Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
He sat and waited. Years of experience had taught him that silence and calm seemed to be the deadliest weapon he possessed.
He watched.
Waited.
And then, he struck.
He grabbed the pliers, and then as Michael attempted to fight him, he pulled out the man’s tongue. Then, grabbing one of the blades that had been carefully placed beside Michael, in a quick easy swoop, he removed the man’s tongue and allowed it to drop to the floor. Blood poured down his mouth, onto his front. Roman held the piece of tongue within the pliers and wrinkled his nose. As a piece of flesh, it wasn’t his favorite, not in any form. The best place for it was on the floor.
“Let’s see you squeal with no tongue.”
There was no way he could allow Michael to leave the factory alive. That wasn’t his fault, but on Michael.
No one threatened the Zaitsev Bratva.
Next, he removed the man’s fingers, and after that, his teeth. He waited as long as he could, and then he ended Michael Anderson’s life. Once he was finished, he placed a call to the cleaning crew as he wiped the dirt from his fingers. His cell phone went off. It was one of his guards.
Answering his cell, he stepped out of the factory, into the night. The job had taken a few hours extra than he would have liked.
“Talk to me,” he said.
“She’s trying to get onto the dance floor,” his guard said.
“Then allow her to dance, but if another man is near her, I will hold you personally responsible.”
“I won’t allow her to leave.”
Roman smiled. Chloe was proving to be a handful. Anticipation filled him.
He had no choice but to wait until the cleaning crew had finished. Once he had paid them, he climbed into his car and took off, heading toward the nightclub.
There was a line, easily a mile long, waiting to get in. Roman owned the nightclub, so the moment he parked, his man on the door let him inside. Several people booed and complained, and he could understand why since it was cold outside.
Stepping into the main nightclub, the music was incredibly loud, banging off the walls. The dance floor was busy, but he wasn’t interested in anyone else. The only person he wanted was in the VIP section.
He saw his two men standing with their backs to his woman, and the moment they saw him, they all looked a little relieved.
Chloe was a lady, a sweetheart, and as he stepped behind the men, he saw why. Someone had allowed his woman to have a drink. She was a little drunk and kneeling on the table. The dress she wore had ridden up to mid-thigh, but even that was showing too much flesh for his liking.
“Look who finally decides to show up. My fake husband.”
“There is nothing fake about me. I am your husband.”
“Yeah, because you lied about who you were and what you’re associated with.” She picked up her drink and took another sip. “You’re … shh, I’m not allowed to say anything, am I? Saying what you are will get me killed.”
She stepped off the table. He didn’t even know how she’d been able to climb up there, but she got off and stepped toward him. In the heels she wore, it did look incredibly dangerous for her to be moving. Roman ignored the desire to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her up. He had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that, at least not yet. He’d wait until she desperately needed him.
“Don’t you want to kill me, Roman?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest.
“No.”
She tilted her head to the side. “But wouldn’t that be so much easier?” She closed the distance between them. “I’m pretty sure you can have any woman your heart desires. You don’t have to have me. I’m nothing compared to others.”
He didn’t want anyone else but her.
“You’re drunk.”
“Just a little bit. Tell me, Roman, if you don’t want to kill me, what do you want to do with me?” she asked.
He grabbed her wrist, and without waiting for a response, he pulled her onto the dance floor. “I want to dance.”
Chloe expected him to be a monster, but while she was intoxicated, he wouldn’t touch her. He’d always wait for her to consent.
****
The moment Chloe opened her eyes, she felt a wave of pain jolt right through her body, taking her by surprise. She groaned and pressed her hands to her head, attempting to stop the pain. What the hell had happened?
“Take these,” Roman said, drawing attention to the fact he was there.
She lowered her hands, and sure enough, he was sitting beside her bed. He held his hand open for her to take the two white tablets, as well as some juice.
“What are they?”
“Ecstasy.” He shook his head. “Painkillers. Standard packets are purchased in most supermarkets, liquor stores, and even pharmacies. And this, just juice, from a carton, I don’t press my own.”