Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Eww, Ally, you can’t wear that,” Vika hisses, dragging her finger up and down Alyona’s body. “And you need to do something with that hair.”
Alyona’s blonde locks are pulled up into a lopsided pile on top of her head with strands falling free around her face. She looks hot as fuck even ill and not trying. It’s annoying because I don’t want to want her but it’s all I fucking want.
Ignoring Vika, Alyona goes to collect more of Roza’s belongings, while Z and I move the sleeping henchmen to the front lawn.
He’s a heavy cunt and I drop him as soon as we hit the grass.
“Do you think it’s wise to leave him breathing?” I ask, checking our surroundings for any runners who might find it odd that there’s a giant asshole out cold on Alyona’s lawn.
“I think another body showing up will cast doubt on Adam murdering the nun and will also confirm Adam’s suspicions about Alyona,” Z reasons with a frown. “Let’s deal with the Yuri spy problem first and then deal with Adam.”
“Adam was already supposed to be dealt with,” I grumble, wiping sweat off of my brow.
It’s too fucking hot here to be dragging bodies around while dressed in Armani suits. We were supposed to be enjoying renovating our club and instead we’re chasing shadows and fighting people so beneath us it’s making my skin itch.
Eyeing me skeptically, the side of Z’s mouth kicks up as he says, “We both know men with fragile egos don’t like going down without a fight.”
Rolling the sleeves of my shirt, I crack my neck and smirk.
Then a fight he’ll have because that’s what we do best.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alyona
As we pull up a small driveway, we arrive at a large wooden gate. Z lowers his window and inputs a number he reads from a folder into the keypad. The gate starts to open, revealing a spacious house with warm cream bricks, dark wooden accents, and a terracotta sloped roof. It’s stunning.
“What is this place?” I ask. Maybe it’s a private hotel or something.
“It’s our new house,” Z says, “and next is a new car. This one is a box of crap.” He holds up a knob that fell off a vent when he tried to move it and shakes his head at Rodion.
“Seriously? Again?” Rodion teases, a playful smirk spreading across his face as he takes in Z’s irritation. The sight makes my heart stammer.
They decided going for their rental was better than us bringing my car here in case the person tailing Vika took down my plate when he was watching the house, or worse, put a tracking device on it.
“Your new house as in, you own it?” I ask in disbelief.
It’s enormous, two or three times the size of Jeremiah’s house and they’ve only been in the states for five damn minutes.
“Yes,” they say in eerie unison.
“It has a water fountain,” I exclaim, staring out the window at the circular fountain with a fancy sprout at the center, sitting in the middle of the driveway.
“And a pool so Rodion can stop complaining about the heat.” Z chuckles, playfully knocking his fist into Rodion’s shoulder.
“I don’t like to sweat,” Rodion deadpans, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Not while wearing clothes anyway.” He shoots Z a wink, and the implication sends flutters in my lower stomach. An influx of memories invading my mind.
Shaking my head to clear it, I whisper to Roza who's peering up at me from her carseat, “They have a pool.”
Frowning at me in the rearview mirror, Z asks, “You remember we’re rich, right?” There’s a playful glint in his eye that warms parts of me that have been long frozen.
I know they’re rich, but to put down roots like this must mean they plan on making a real life here.
“We needed a home here and now we have one. We have one, Alyona.” He holds my stare until I nod my head in understanding. I’m part of the “we.”
But for how long? And is it just because of Roza or… I don’t dare let hope trickle in.
Getting out of the car, Rodion rushes to Roza’s door and unbuckles her. He’s been adamant that I shouldn’t lift her until my stomach has healed a little. Earlier, when I changed her diaper, I found that Rodion had changed her into a one that was back to front. If I told anyone who knows the madmen that they made a bottle and did a diaper change, they’d be calling me the mad one.
“Thanks,” I say to Z as he opens my door and extends his hand. As I climb out of the car, I remove the sweater and toss it onto the seat. It belonged to Jeremiah, and I don’t want to take anything of his into their house.
A wide porch stretches across the front of the house, decorated with potted plants that, unless they hire a gardener, won’t live long because none of us know how to take care of plants. I can keep a human alive, but not a plant.