Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“We’ll talk about this more later,” he says once she’s gone. “You have no idea how much trouble we’re in.”
“What’s this we thing? I thought you were supposed to find it. Now just… give it back?”
He sighs and shakes his head. His lips brush against my neck. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me.”
He pulls back and his expression is bleak. I don’t think I’ve seen him looking so hard before. I find it weirdly sexy, if I’m being honest with myself, but it also makes me very, very worried.
“There you two are.” Cass comes walking over with another man in tow. I recognize him from earlier in the night. He’s Tigran Sarkissian, second-in-command of the whole Brotherhood. “We were looking for you.”
“Time to cut the cake,” Tigran says, looking between us. He’s not smiling, like he knows something’s going on. “Everything okay?”
“I just needed some alone time with my new wife.” Alexan slips his hand into mine. “We’re all good.”
“You two ran off suddenly. Everyone’s kind of worried.” Cass studies me, clearly trying to figure out if I’m actually okay.
I smile at her, slip away from Alexan, and put my hand through her arm. “We’re all good. Just getting to know each other. Let’s go take care of that cake.”
I tug her away and we put some distance between the two hulking Armenian gangsters.
“You sure you’re good?” she asks, sounding concerned.
I honestly don’t know how to answer that. Alexan has me pretty freaked out, but I still don’t fully understand what’s going on.
All I know is he looked grim back there, like we’re both going to be murdered very slowly and very painfully.
“Don’t worry. Honestly, everything’s fine.”
I do my best to keep it together for the rest of the night. I catch Alexan lurking near me more and more often as the evening wears on. He actually dances once or twice, or at least he stands on the edge of the dance floor and moves in a way that could be construed as “swaying” by normal people, while I get down with everyone else.
He stares at me constantly.
It’s unnerving, but I’m kind of used to it by now.
When the night winds down and guests start leaving, he’s glued to my hip, like he’s my bodyguard or something. And finally, when my dad says he’s heading home, Alexan just tells him that we’ll be staying at his place this evening. Dad frowns at me but only nods his head. “Don’t get in trouble,” he says before stalking off.
Brenden gives me a tight hug. “You’ll be alright,” he says, shakes Alexan’s hand, and follows Dad to the car.
Leaving me alone with my husband.
“I’m guessing this isn’t about consummating our marriage,” I say once we’re waiting for the valet to pull his car around.
“It can be if that’s what you want.” He doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about the idea.
“Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet.”
“Should I get you rose petals for the bed? Put on some mood-setting music? Or would you prefer if I stole something valuable from a very murderous criminal organization?”
“I didn’t know it was there,” I say through my teeth, getting frustrated. “I don’t even understand why this is such a big deal.”
He looks like he wants to explain, but the car arrives. We drive in silence, and I’m left with about a thousand questions and no way to answer them.
But something starts to bother me. It’s the way Brenden reacted when I told him about the watch. It was subtle, but it was clear.
He was afraid of the name Jeremy Fong.
I take out my phone and send him a quick text.
Riley: Do you know anything about a group called the Black Mantis?
He responds right away. And it makes my spine tingle.
Brenden: Don’t ask me about them ever again. Don’t text me back. We’ll talk later.
My mouth runs dry. He’s never acted like that before. My older brother taught me how to steal a car. There’s never been any secrets between us. Nothing’s ever off-limits either. He teaches me what he knows and we trust each other implicitly.
But if he won’t even text about these people?
Alexan parks out front of his house, and I start to think I’m in deep shit.
Once we’re inside, he leads me into the kitchen and sits me down at the counter. He pours two glasses of wine, puts the watch down between us, and stares at me as he drinks his down.
I sip mine, itching to break the silence but too stubborn to talk first.
“If I return this to Iron Head—”
“Who now?”
“That’s his code name,” Alexan says, giving me a stern look. “If I return this to him, he’ll want to know who stole it. If I refuse to say, he’ll torture me until I talk. And believe me, wife of mine, no man in this world can hold out forever when the Mantis decides they want to know something.”