The Gatekeeper (Chicago Bratva #9) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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I drop into the seat and wait for him to say something, but he just studies me, so I speak. “I want to help you catch Stepanov.”

“Oh, I won’t be catching him,” Ravil says. “I’ll be killing him.”

I ignore the goosebumps racing across my arms. Making the hairs at the back of my neck stand.

I don’t condone murder. That’s why I couldn’t shoot at Stepanov when I had the chance. But I don’t feel particularly judgmental over his desire to end the man who tried to kill him and blow up his building.

If they hadn’t had advance warning, every occupant of this building might be dead right now.

“I can call him and ask for help. If they’re not watching the building, they may not know which side I’m on.”

“Why would you do this thing?” Ravil asks. There’s nothing friendly about his visage. His expression is stony, his gaze cold.

I clasp my trembling hands together. “Because it’s my fault they got in. I caused this problem for you, and I want to fix it.”

“You are working with the real FBI now, perhaps?”

Of course, he mistrusts me. What reason have I given for them to take my word?

I shake my head. “No. I’m…I’m with you. I mean–” Gospodi, what do I mean? I swallow and try to swallow the lump in my throat. “My loyalties are here with–”

“With whom?”

“With Maykl.” My eyes fill with tears. “Where is he? Did you… is he safe?”

Ravil appears satisfied. “He is safe,” he assures me.

He tips his head at Maxim. “Bring him in.”

I stand from my chair, my breath caught up in my throat. A moment later, Maxim returns with Maykl. I run to him as if our one night apart had been a million years.

It felt even longer. I now know what it would be like to live without him, and I know I never want that.

I don’t want to go back to Russia. I don’t want to return to my old, hollow life. I don’t care about any of it.

All I know is that Maykl somehow repaired the things in me that were broken. And yes, he was responsible for one of those wounds, but I know he’d do anything he could to make it up to me. And, ultimately, as much as I love my dad, he caused his own demise. And he sold Anya.

I fly into Maykl, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight.

“Moya malen'kaya Valkiriya,” he murmurs.

“Fix things with her,” Ravil says to Maykl. “Then we move on Stepanov. Go.”

Maykl

I can’t believe it. Kira is here. In my arms.

She still wants me.

I bustle her out of the penthouse, in a hurry to get her somewhere private. I opt for the stairs to the roof, since she’s wearing her red coat. Taking her hand, I lead her up to the roof’s edge where I cradle her face in my hands.

“I’m sorry, Kira. I’m sorry I was the one. I wish it was different. I wish I knew how to make it up to you.”

She holds my wrists. “I’m okay. I…I can’t even say I’m sorry it happened. Because if you hadn’t been the one, you never would’ve been in the bratva, and then…someone else would’ve been guarding that door the night arrived.”

My eyes burn.

“Sweet Valkiriya. We would have met. If not here, there. Somehow. We were destined for each other.”

“Yes.” Her laugh is watery. “Yes, we would have met.”

“So…” I don’t know how to ask this. “Are you…Will you stay? I want you, Kira. I don’t want to let you go home. Or leave this building. Or my life. Please… tell me you’ll stay.”

She nods. “I’m staying. I have nothing to go back to. Mika is here in the States. My job was bogus. My boss is a criminal. My life was empty before I met you. That’s a fact.”

I kiss her, claiming her soft lips. She moves them against mine with a whimper. I catch the back of her head to hold her in place, deepen the kiss. We slow dance as we kiss, rocking from foot to foot, slowly circling each other as we come apart and go back in, each time a different tempo. Soft and meaningful, then intense with passion, then a slow savoring.

“I love you.” She says it first, and it feels like my life both ends and begins at once. Like if I dived from this building, I could fly.

“I love you, little warrior.”

She lifts those ice-blue eyes, and they crinkle at the corners.

“How was your nephew?”

She smiles and nods. “He’s good. All grown up. He seems happy with Vlad and Alessia. Really happy. It’s a much better life than Anya could have given him. I can’t forgive her for abandoning him, but maybe it worked out for the best.”

“Like us,” I say softly.



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