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)
Snatching up the phone, Rodion barks down the line at him. “She already told you she doesn’t know anything else. If you call this number again, I will report you for harassment.” Ending the call, he places my phone back down and frowns at it. “Amelia has sent you six text messages.” His lip curls up as though it disgusts him to have to say Vika’s fake name.
Blowing out a breath, I get to rinsing the coffee mugs and loading them into the dishwasher. “He’s coming on a bit strong. Do you think he suspects something?”
“I think he suspects you’re not Ally Dior.” Rodion snorts. “But he won’t find proof otherwise, so just stay clear of him.”
Great. Someone else to hide from. I’ll put him on the damn list that’s growing larger by the day.
“Why is Vika insistently texting you?” he demands, glowering down at my phone.
Throwing my hands up, I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “She’s pestering me about the wedding. I need to go try on the maid-of-honor dress she’s picked out.” No doubt it will be fucking hideous so I don’t outshine her.
“You’re going through with being her maid-of-honor?” Rodion asks with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
Roza begins fussing, and Z jumps into action, retrieving her from her highchair and bringing her to the kitchen with us. She clings to him, grabbing a tiny fistful of his sweater, and I cringe, knowing her hands are dirty and that the fabric was probably made using spider-spun gold and weaved by angels. Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but it looks expensive, and it's cream. She’s already ruined numerous outfits of theirs this week.
“I know she’s, well, Vika,” I state, scrunching my nose, and then I startle when I turn around and Rodion is a hairbreadth away from me.
I’ve become accustomed to both their presence, thoroughly dissecting me with every look, but it still makes my limbs turn to jelly every time it’s up close like this.
“She’s a viper, Alyona, and would sell you out to save her own ass at the first opportunity,” Rodion snaps. “You can’t trust her.”
“But she never has,” I say, moving out of his space, and begin wiping down the counter to keep my hands busy and not fist them in his shirt, begging him to tell me my confession meant something to him. That he feels this too, that the time apart hasn’t changed the way he thinks about me. Swallowing past the lump forming in my throat for no fucking reason, I walk around the counter and take Roza from Zahkar. “Come on, baby girl, you need a wash and to get dressed.”
“Just don’t forget who she really is, Alyona,” Rodion warns, spreading his hands out on the marble counter, the light from the flickering bulb above casting shadows across his face.
“Doesn’t she deserve a second chance?” I ask, my voice raw with emotion. The question hangs between us, charged and heavy, pressing down on our shoulders like an impending storm cloud, waiting to burst and give way to something new.
They both edge closer, as if an invisible magnet is drawing them to it, and my heart pounds loudly in my chest, each beat echoing my rising anxiety. Rodion steps into my personal space, his eyes softening, they glimmer like fresh leaves doused in raindrops after a storm.
“Some people do,” he says softly, his voice a gentle murmur that sends a shiver down my spine. He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against my cheek, the touch so tender that it almost makes my knees buckle beneath me, leaving me breathless and longing for more. I lean into it and Roza reaches her arms out to him climbing from my arms to his.
“Viktor found him.” Z's strained voice slices through the tense atmosphere like a sharp-edged blade, his eyes dark with urgency.
“What?” Rodion and I ask simultaneously, my heart racing at the implications of his words.
Z holds up his phone, the screen showing a text from Viktor. With a look of pure malice that seems to chill the air around us, he says, “He found the uncle. We need to go, and we need to go now.”
They move into action, Rodion handing Roza back to me, his palm cradling her head as he drops a kiss to her cheek. “Stay with Mommy, solnyshko.” Sunshine.
Z retrieves a leather black duffle bag from a locked closet in the hallway, where he had the security company add a large safe. He glances at the bag with a determined look, and Rodion can’t help but break into a wide, excited grin.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he exclaims, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“Set the alarm behind us, Alyona, and make sure you don’t leave this house for any reason,” Z instructs firmly, leaving no room for argument.