Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
She giggles, covering her mouth. “You were making little bombs with machetes and stuff stolen from the kitchen.”
“That means you provide the best inspiration.”
She laughs, then stops, probably remembering how severely I was punished for my creations or when I dismantled some device to see inside it.
Then she tactfully changes the subject, talking about her preparations and our half-brothers. Alina hates them on principle, not because they’re mean to her or anything, but because they antagonize me and are vying for my place.
She can’t stand them for entirely unselfish reasons. Because she’s always been in my corner, but I haven’t always been there for her. I failed her once, and I’ll never let that happen again.
By the time she hangs up, I feel a sense of loss.
No, it’s probably that pesky crushing guilt again.
I spend an hour punching the bag with Dad’s face on it, letting out the hostility that seeps into my muscles.
Still can’t freaking punch him to smithereens, though.
What a fucking pity.
As I’m about to lift weights, my phone pings on the bench, and I rush to it and pick it up, sweat dripping on the screen.
My shoulders fall when I find a text from one of the girls I fuck asking me to wear matching clothes to the party.
I remind her that we’re not dating. I probably won’t fuck her tomorrow, because I need to get this aggression out and she’s not one to enjoy that. Which means I need to fuck a guy—or two. The more the merrier.
It’s ridiculous that my ragey habits have been mounting because the asshole whom I’ve been anticipating completely ignored me when I texted him after Zveroushka’s death.
Though it wasn’t one text. I kind of texted him on the regular for three days straight.
So you kind of never answered my question? The “are you flirting with me?” one, I mean.
It’s okay if you are. I respect all sexual orientations.
Not that I’m saying you have a different one.
Unless you do?
No pressure, just an innocent question.
Maybe not so innocent, but you get what I mean.
I see that you’re reading my texts, you know. Care to spare me some words?
Not necessary, though. I will continue to fill up your inbox until you do.
By the way, heard you broke up with your girlfriend. Oh no, am I the reason?
That was a rhetorical question. I know I am. Should’ve broken up with her when I asked nicely. Honestly, you should thank me for outing her. The girl is as much of a pro as I am at sleeping around.
She kind of implied you don’t satisfy her. Bet she didn’t satisfy you, either, right?
Too soon? Anyway, I’m still asking nicely, so come to the island, or I’ll have to do something about it.
Don’t call my bluff. You know I’m unhinged.
With that text—sent late last night—I attached a video of me fighting Nikolai in the underground ring. Neither of us won, but we were both bloodied shitless.
I actually sent Vaughn a few of those videos of me fighting Nikolai, Jeremy, and Killian, just so he’d see me pummeling his dear friends that he refused to join.
You know, grand plan things.
And because he keeps ignoring me, I type again.
Just held a funeral for Zver. She died too young because of you. Shouldn’t you offer your condolences?
Fine, I know you won’t. Worth a try.
Anyway, I’m throwing a party tomorrow. You should come. Last warning.
If you don’t, I’ll invite Nikolai over and have a fuck fest, then send you footage.
Just kidding.
While Nikolai is bi, like me, he’s not my type. I prefer feminine boys, and he’s so far outside of that scope, it’s a complete turn-off. Besides, he only fucks, and I don’t get fucked. Period.
He’s also too unhinged, too chaotic, and has far from the princeling, well-put-together looks of a certain pain in my neck.
A text appears on the screen, and I sit up taller, my breath stuttering.
Fuck me.
Vaughn actually replied.
Mishka
You’re not Nikolai’s type.
Me
Are you sure?
Yes.
100%?
1000%
What do I get if I try and succeed?
My gun in your face.
Sounds hot. Might give it a try just for that.
Stay away from Nikolai.
Or what? You’ll make me? You’ll have to be here for that, you know.
Do you want me to come and kill you, is that it?
I have other things in mind, but coming here would be a fantastic start, yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get ready to woo Nikolai tomorrow.
Stop it.
Make me.
He reads it but doesn’t reply.
Great, back to the ghosting stage. What an amazing place to be in.
Yet a smile tugs at my lips because something has changed—I got under his skin, even temporarily.
Now, I need to delve deeper into that skin and stay there.
Like scar tissue, almost impossible to get rid of.
Guess I need to find a way to provoke him into coming here.
Even if I have to seduce the bull Nikolai for it.