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)
I laughed. I had learned enough to know that where the Brigadiers were loyal to Ivan and loved him in their own way, my brother meddled. He liked to cause trouble, or at least play devil’s advocate.
“You’d put up with that for me?” I asked.
“Yeah, I think I owe you a lot, don’t I? This is before we even start talking about kids.”
This made me take a deep breath. “You want kids?” I asked.
“Yeah, I do. What about you?”
“I do.”
“How many?” he asked.
“I want a big family, so I’d be happy with say, five or six,” I said.
I think I expected him to freak out, but instead he smiled.
“Five or six it is.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a problem,” I said. “I don’t like sex.”
Victor sighed and I was pretty sure his face went bright red. “That’s my fault. Sex is not like that. Forgive me?”
“Forgive you?”
“Yeah, I didn’t prepare you. I just ... I was so angry, and that is no excuse, because you hate it. Give me a chance to prove that I can make this work. That I can make your toes curl and wipe out all memory of our past.”
“Okay,” I said. “But you’ve got to give me time. You’ve got to give us time.”
“That, I can do.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
In that moment, I knew I was the happiest I had been in a very long time. I didn’t want to step off this cloud nine. Victor was more than I could have imagined.
Were we going to have a good life? I honestly didn’t know, because The Grid was still after me. My fake father was still alive. For all I knew, my fake brothers were still alive. There was no guarantee of the future but laying in the sand with my husband between my thighs, and my lips tingling, I did feel somewhat hopeful for the future we might have together.
Some may think this wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t looking for perfect. I’d never had perfect, and finding out I’m related to Ivan Volkov and my whole life had been a lie, I thought I was handling it rather well.
Chapter Twelve
Ivan
I don’t like surprises. Finding out I had a half-sister was a big fucking surprise. I wasn’t pissed off knowing about Freya. What I didn’t like was the fact I wasn’t even aware. Even though now that I knew the truth, there were similarities between the two of us.
Freya had grown up at the mercy of a man I didn’t like. Harris was a piece of work, and I had watched his empire grow, and slowly gathered the information I needed to align my world with his.
Taking his daughter had been easy. He must have been laughing his fucking ass off knowing she was related to me. No wonder the son of a bitch was trying to manipulate the circumstances. For a short time, he tried to have me marry my sister. Sick bastard. Harris had known.
Running a hand down my face, I looked around the small house that once had Freya inside. He’d kept her trapped in his world, tormenting her. Attempting to ruin her, piece by piece. I’m not sure what his end game had been.
His sons were already dead. They had failed to be of any use to me, and had unfortunately taken too many drugs. They were found in a burnt-out car. The media spent less than a minute on the report, and moved on.
“Are you okay?” The Butcher asked, coming to stand with me.
I hadn’t invited her.
There were many occasions she had arrived without my invite.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Came to see where Freya grew up.” She looked around the house, reaching out to touch a piece of furniture, looking around at the shelves. “You noticed there are not many photographs?”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
The Butcher had always been unpredictable, but while we were on the hunt for The Grid, she had been even more so.
“You like Freya, don’t you?” I asked.
From my dealings with The Butcher, she doesn’t like to talk. She doesn’t like to say anything. She is quite happy to remain as quiet as a mouse, only this woman is no mouse at all. She is deadly. Trained to be so.
“She’s a good person. Anyone who can withstand that level of torment and stay nice, I think shows a great deal of character, don’t you?” The Butcher asked. “They can’t stay on that island forever. There’s going to come a point where they’ll run out of supplies, and I won’t be able to fly anything in for them.”
My island was great, but it did have certain limitations. Running fingers through my hair, I nodded in agreement. I wasn’t going to argue.
The Grid had gone to ground. I had people out. Slavik had heard talk in his territory of The Grid not being happy with Harris. I didn’t believe it. There was something not quite right about Harris, The Grid, and not being able to find him. I wasn’t used to doing the chasing. I loved to hunt, to torment, and then when my opponent couldn’t take it anymore, I struck.