Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
And every time Alek had raised a hand to Alina and hurt her, it had taken a piece of that girl’s soul. I hated him for that, but my hatred didn’t erase the truth.
I was fucked.
That was clear and simple.
If the Bratva found out I was helping Alina, they would brand me a traitor.
They would ask no questions. They wouldn’t have any need to. They wouldn’t care why she’d left or why I’d agreed to help her. Nor would they care that I’d always been loyal to them, and they wouldn’t think twice about the blood I’d spilt in the name of family.
To them, helping her would be an act of betrayal.
And that was the one sin that earned no forgiveness.
Besides, they were looking for an excuse to end me.
They’d been looking since the day I packed up my mother and brothers and moved to Little Rock. They would make an example out of me, and I knew what that meant. I’d seen men on their knees with a knife at their throats while they begged for mercy. And I’d seen the aftermath. There were no clean deaths for traitors. Only slow, painful endings.
I’d placed a target on my back the second I agreed to help Alina, and it only grew larger the closer I got to her. Yet, that didn’t stop me from wanting to protect her from him, because when I looked at the bruises on Alina’s face, I didn’t just see her. I saw my mother. I saw every wound my father carved into my childhood.
I knew I would burn for helping her. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But I would burn. I didn’t fucking care. I would walk straight into the flames if it meant protecting her, and that surprised the hell out of me.
What was even more surprising was the fact that this wasn’t the first time I’d felt compelled to protect her. There had been multiple times.
One stood out more than the rest.
A Christmas party at the house.
It was a yearly event, and everyone came. And it was something else. Every corner of the house was decorated. There were lights everywhere, ice sculptures, Christmas trees, and the food was endless. Men would dress in their most expensive suits, and the women wore their finest designer gowns and expensive jewelry.
I was sitting in the corner with a couple of so-called friends and a stolen bottle of bourbon when Viktor and Nikolai walked in with Alina. Her hair was up, and she was wearing a short, red, sequin dress and heels. She was sixteen or seventeen at the time, but she looked much older. And she looked good. Damn good.
I was watching her walk across the room when Mickel leaned in and teased, “Damn, Alina’s putting on quite a show. I think it’s time I got a piece of that—”
I hadn’t even let him finish his thought before my hand was on his throat. I pulled him within inches of my face and snarled, “Watch your fucking mouth!”
“Easy, man. I didn’t mean anything.”
“I know exactly what you meant.” I tightened my grip as I warned, “You even breathe her name again, and I’ll make sure it’s your last.”
He gave me a nod, and I could tell by the fear in his eyes, he believed me. They all had. No one dared to even look at her after that. It had been a lifetime since that night, but that same instinct to protect still burned through me.
There was something about this woman that had gotten under my skin.
And no one got under my skin.
Like always, the morning came too damn early. The sun was barely up and the city was still quiet, but I was wide-eyed and ready to face the day. After a long, hot shower, I got dressed and headed into the kitchen for some coffee. As I waited for it to brew, I wondered if Alina was awake. Part of me hoped she wasn’t.
I knew the second her eyes met mine again, I’d have to face all the things I’d rather not face, like the fact that I still hadn’t called Viktor to let him know she was here. The weight of that decision weighed heavily on my chest. She was his friend. He would know how to handle her and make sure she stayed put.
But for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain, I didn’t want him to know she was here. I didn’t want to hand her off or even ask for his input. I wanted him to steer fucking clear and let me handle this thing on my own. So, I did the only thing I knew to do.
I started making breakfast.
I wasn’t the type to make breakfast for anyone. Hell, I barely made it for myself. And yet, there I was, cracking egg after egg into a mixing bowl. I’d just started scrambling them when the sound of soft footsteps drew my attention to the hallway.