Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
All of my life I've been a burden. My father didn’t love me. Hated the way that I looked. Spent all of his time trying to convince me to change. Brothers who bullied me. And a mother I never knew.
Marrying Victor Abdulov is the only truth I know. But, a past I didn’t know about is going to get me killed. I hated my husband, until I fell in love with him. I never got to tell him, and now it is going to be too late.
Victor
I did not want a wife.
I did not want to fall in love.
I just wanted to be a Brigadier and serve Ivan Volkov. He had given me the chance to make shit right. But, my wife is so much more than I could have imagined, and I was a dick to her. I need to make it right. People are out to take her from me, and I am willing to follow her to the ends of the earth to keep her alive.
I didn’t want her, now I don’t think I can breathe without her. In vows, we always say, until death do we part, because we expect a lifetime together—not a love that ends before we know it
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Freya
“You need to make a run for it.”
I looked toward The Butcher in a sense of panic. There was no way I was making a run for it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” I asked.
“Look, I don’t know how many men are coming through those doors, and as much as it kills me to say this, I’m no match for them. One or two, or damn it, maybe even four, I can take, but all of them all at once, that is not going to work. We’re as good as dead.”
I knew what she was telling me but I just couldn’t accept it. “Come with me.”
The Butcher had always been nice to me. Always, from the start of my marriage to Victor Abdulov. She’d never had a bad word to say, and rather than allow me to dwell in a loveless marriage, against all odds, we’d formed a solid friendship.
We were worlds apart.
She was a trained killer. Merciless. Hardcore. Stunningly beautiful, and yet warm and ... so many other things as well. It was a crazy feeling, but I actually believed she would make one hell of a momma. I know, strange, considering we’re in one of the scariest situations of my life right now, not exactly appropriate to be having kids.
I was the unwanted nobody. The daughter to a man who couldn’t stand me. Freya Harris. Supposed daughter to a billionaire bachelor, who had a couple of sons who grated on his nerves. Then, me. The mousy brown-haired, brown-eyed daughter, who had a penchant for sewing, knitting, and my one saving grace to him was my love of makeup. He thought it would make me want to have plastic surgery, so he could mold me into the daughter he actually wanted.
Nope.
Didn’t want to go under the knife. First, I hate needles, and I also happen to hate pain, even though my face felt like it had exploded. One of my eyes were slowly closing shut from being punched in the face. Not to mention the split lip I know I also had, which sucked.
There were a lot more bruises as well.
Prior to The Butcher coming for me, I had been beaten. Maybe I was over my fear of pain. I tried not to put my hands to my stomach, because I already know from the blood coating the camel pants I wore, that I had lost my and Victor’s baby. I was not going to cry. Now was not the time to cry.
“I can’t,” The Butcher said. “I’ve got to slow them down.” She moved toward me, gripped the back of my neck and pressed her forehead against mine. “Listen to me, you’re the one, the first, the only best friend I have ever had. Our friendship means everything to me. I love you, Freya, as a friend, I love you. But, you’re more precious than I am. Shut the fuck up, and listen to me. This is what I am designed to do. This is what I was created to do. You know my story. I told you. Now, let me do what I am good at.”
The tears started to fall although I did try to stop it.
“Please,” I said. “Pretty please.”
“You need to go.”
“They’re going to kill you,” I said.
“I know.” The Butcher took a step back, and then there was this smile on her face. To anyone that didn’t know her, they would think that smile was everything. It did seem to light up her whole face, almost as if she was excited about the prospect of killing today. Knowing The Butcher, whoever came through that door was going to die. No questions asked, but ... she was not going to make it. The Butcher was going to die today. She knew it. I knew it.