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)
“See?” Niko laughs. “All you bitches can go die! Vaughn is my man and will totally join me to attack the Serpents.”
“No, Niko. It’s not a good idea,” I say. “It’s better we don’t clash with the Chicago mafia, especially after the DC incident. Too many things are still unknown, and the situation is volatile, so it’s best to let things cool down. You don’t want to get in the way of Aunt Rai and Uncle Kyle, do you?”
That makes him grimace before he blows out a breath and finally flops down on the armrest of Gareth’s chair.
“Any updates about that?” Jeremy asks me. “Dad says the general consensus is that an Italian faction from Seattle did it, but is it true?”
“Not sure. Anyone who attacks such a large Bratva gathering is an idiot, but then again, some smaller groups can only survive by going big. All the other branches are looking into it, so something is bound to come out of that.”
“Don’t you get bored keeping up with all of that?” Killian asks.
I lift a shoulder. “It’s what I’m born to do.”
“You can also choose to live your life like Jeremy and Niko,” Kill says. “Your dad is still young, and it’ll be decades before you take over, so might as well enjoy yourself a little.”
“He’s right.” Jeremy nudges my shoulder. “You’ve always been responsible to a fault. It’s okay to take a step back and have fun, especially after the whole thing with Danika.”
“Yeah, the whole thing with Danika,” Gareth says, sounding sympathetic. “I bet you’re still thinking about her.”
“Am not,” I say.
“Oh?” the prick says.
“It’s good you’ve come over outside the initiation.” Jeremy slams me on the shoulder. “It feels like we don’t see you that much.”
“I don’t think he’s here for us, though.” Gareth releases a sigh, and I glare at him.
He just laughs. The asshole.
“Question.” Niko jumps up. “How about we disguise ourselves, and the Serpents don’t know it’s us? Genius, right?”
“There’s no way we can disguise you, Niko,” Jeremy says.
“Listen, motherfucker—” Niko trips and falls near the coffee table, narrowly avoiding hitting his head.
I pull my leg back discreetly as he yells and bitches.
Childish, maybe.
But I don’t like that he beat Yulian up, especially that punch that knocked him down. He had to shake his head to get back on his feet.
Since I have a broad idea of the type of abuse Yulian has endured at his father’s hands, I don’t like anyone hitting him—Nikolai included.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out faster than I’ve ever done anything in my life.
I knew Yulian wouldn’t ghost me. The other times he attempted that, sulking and acting like a drama king, lasted an hour max.
Besides, it’s not really that I don’t want to go to the house. I want to touch him so badly, I’ve been having withdrawals.
But that’s exactly why I want to put some distance between us, train my brain to stop acting on instinct when he’s around and teach him—and myself—some impulse control, because fucking hell, he can be so reckless.
Y
You don’t get here in thirty minutes, I’m fucking him on your bed.
He sends a photo.
The picture shows Kevin on his knees, sucking on Yulian’s thumb. It’s a little blurred, but I’d know that hand anywhere—the veins, the tiny wing inked above the fang at the slope of his thumb, curling into the inside of his wrist. I kissed and held and touched that hand more times than I can count.
And now that fucking hand is on someone else.
My spine jerks upright as I type.
Me
You do that, and it’s over, Yulian.
Fine by me. Better that than playing your push-and-pull games. Goodbye, Vaughn.
Goodbye? You’re not the one saying goodbye, I am. You think you have any control over this relationship?
Apparently not. I can still end it, though.
My jaw tightens. Is he seriously ending it? He thinks he can end it?
Or threaten me?
Or make me do something I don’t want to?
Fuck Yulian Dimitriev. No one dictates my actions.
Twenty minutes later, I nearly slam my car into the wall of the house.
The purchase itself didn’t take long, but finding the right place took work. I practically made the realtor strong-arm a couple into giving up their dream beach house on a hill—secluded, overlooking the sea, far from anyone else. A discreet private gate, a long driveway, and a recent renovation in a clean, neoclassical style.
In short—exactly what I needed.
At first, it was the location that caught my eye. I spotted it on Google Earth, ran drone footage around the property to assess security risks, then dug into a background search to find out exactly who I’d be dealing with. The final step was hiring a realtor to push the sale—I couldn’t risk handling it myself and exposing my anonymity.
The elderly couple resisted, of course. That changed when I offered them a mansion in Kent, close to their children and grandchildren. They’d still have their seaside dream. But this one is mine.