Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
The man nods before contacting Ms. Nikolova via a two-way radio.
Petkov glances between Raya and me, then the corner of his mouth lifts. “So that settles it. Going forward, we’re working together.”
“It’s better than the alternative,” I reply, returning his smile.
He seems to relax even more as he asks, “How was the trip from New York?”
“Good.” Wanting him to know I’m sincere about this alliance, I give him personal information by saying, “Raya and I were born in Bulgaria but have never had the opportunity to visit. Are there any sights you suggest we visit while we’re here?”
Surprise flashes over his face. “You’re of Bulgarian descent? Last name?”
“Markov. Right after our family moved to the States, there was a fire in our apartment building. Only Raya and I survived, but we were lucky to be adopted soon after.”
Ms. Nikolova comes in and sets down a tray on the table before leaving. Raya leans forward and helps herself to a glass of sparkling water that has a wedge of lime in it.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Petkov murmurs. His dark gaze flicks to Raya as she takes a couple of sips, then a smile lifts the corner of his mouth before he looks at me again. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you won’t agree to an arranged marriage to solidify ties between our organizations.”
Water flies from Raya as she chokes, and I quickly pat her back. She climbs to her feet, and looking rattled, she croaks, “Bathroom?”
“Stani will show you where to go,” Petkov says, giving the guard by the door a nod.
I lock eyes with Santino, silently ordering him to go with Raya as she hurries out of the office.
When we’re alone, I turn my attention back to Petkov. “You assume right. It’s nothing personal. I’ll never agree to an arranged marriage between my sister and any man. She’s not a bargaining chip, but my second-in-command and the most important person to me.”
He stares at me while a look of respect settles on his face. “I understand.” Still, it doesn’t stop him from asking, “And if I take the traditional route and court your sister?”
Fuck.
I can’t be a dick. He’s showing me respect by asking my permission.
While I consider his request, Raya returns, and as she sits down beside me again, she shoots me a questioning look.
“Mr. Petkov asked whether I’d allow him to date you.”
Her lips part for a second, but she processes the shock quickly. She swallows before she meets Petkov’s eyes. “I’m flattered, but I have to decline. I’m focused on business right now and will only consider dating in a year or so.”
She’s taking me into consideration, knowing I need time to adjust to the promotion I just gave her, never mind her dating a mafia boss.
Christ, if things work out between them, I would have to leave her behind in Bulgaria.
Panic ripples through me.
Raya picks up on it and gives my hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.
Luckily, Petkov doesn’t push the subject but concedes with a nod.
Thank fuck. It feels like I just dodged a bullet.
Chapter 4
Nina
I resist the urge to touch the earpiece I’m forced to wear. Worried it’s visible, I once again make sure my hair covers my ear as I walk through the lobby of the five-star hotel. I’m wearing a dark burgundy silk cocktail dress that’s too short, along with five-inch heels, and my hair is up with a few curls framing my face, which is covered in makeup exactly the way Boris likes it. The lipstick is bold, matching the dress.
My skin is already crawling as if I’m covered in filth.
The gold floral brooch pinned to my chest contains a camera so Boris can see everything.
One slip up and he’ll punish Simi.
Even though I’ve done this before, it doesn’t make it any easier. Nerves spin wildly in my stomach, and I’m nauseated.
You’re doing this for Simi.
I can feel men’s eyes follow me as I walk, and when I take the carpeted steps down to the bar area, a group sitting at a nearby table notices me. They proceed to stare, and one of the men whispers, “Fuck, look at that body.” My skin crawls at his remark. “Dressed like that, it’s clear she’s here for dick. I’m going to shoot my shot.”
Doing my best to ignore them, I continue moving toward the bar. More men notice me, and soon, there are a few blatantly ogling me.
My stomach churns, and I clutch my purse tighter.
I suppress every instinct in me that wants to turn around and leave before this goes any further. The noise of the bar is overwhelming, a mix of low voices, glasses clinking, music humming in the background.
Apprehension crawls beneath my skin, and my pulse starts to speed up, sharp and fast.
I concentrate on keeping my breaths even and do my best to hide the fact that I’m seconds away from unraveling.