Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Oh.” My shoulders drop. “Oh, God.”
“Hmm.” He glares at me as if he’s mad I made him share that. “Are you going to judge me for taking out that trash bag?”
“What about the others? How many have you killed?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Ten or so. Some were in gunfights, and it was them or me. Some were twisted motherfuckers who had no place drawing breath. But I’ve worked hard to make us different from everyone else. Information, Lia, it means we don’t have to scramble in the muck. We can avoid the usual bleakness that comes with this type of work.”
“Except for the ten people you’ve killed and the blackmail and the collateral damage, you mean.”
He leans forward, jaw pulsing. “I know it’s hard, but you need to hear something. If I had to do it over, I wouldn’t take back a single goddamn bullet. It weighs heavily on me, but it had to be done. If I wasn’t in charge, there would be someone worse. I keep things civilized.”
“I wonder if Daniel Mercer would agree with you.”
“Conrad Vale is going to pay,” he growls.
“You’re going to kill him too?”
“I haven’t worked it out yet, but he’ll pay. And when he does, everyone will know who the king of this town really is.”
“It’s about ego, then.”
“It’s about a life I was born into,” he snaps. “It’s about making things better, however I can, better than my father, who was a goddamn tyrant. It’s about understanding you can only change things from the inside. You don’t want to hear it, but if I left tomorrow, things would be worse.”
“Nikolai said you turn over the really bad stuff to the authorities,” I murmur. “If you catch a politician or a businessman…” I swallow. “Crossing the line. Is that true, or do you kill them too?”
“I wish I could kill them,” he snaps. “And I wish the authorities always did the right thing. But these people bring heat. When I can’t get rid of them or get them arrested, I make them resign, then I scare them more than they’ve ever been scared. I make it clear I’ll end their lives if they ever cross certain lines again. It’s complicated, messy work.”
I take a sip of my coffee, closing my eyes so I can think for a moment.
“This is so not my life,” I say.
“I know,” he replies huskily.
“I never planned on being involved with a criminal.”
“I know, Lia.”
I open my eyes. “You know, okay, that’s great. But what does it change?”
“Nothing,” he admits, and I admire him for that. “Except we both understand there’s something special here. We both understand—”
“Don’t tell me what I understand,” I say. “I should’ve cut this off the moment you admitted to spying on me.”
“Maybe,” he replies. “But you didn’t. And that’s because you feel this too.”
“We’ve got some chemistry, sure. Big deal.”
“You can be apathetic, sarcastic, or any damn thing you want, but you and I know something real is happening here.”
I theatrically put the back of my hand on my forehead like a character in some melodrama. “Are you declaring your undying love for me, sir?”
He breathes out through gritted teeth before speaking. “Don’t mock this,” he snarls. “What we shared last night was real.”
He stares at me, looking hard for a moment. Then, suddenly hurt. A pang of guilt runs through me, which isn’t fair. I’m not in the wrong here. But it’s not like I can just flip a switch and stop myself from caring.
“I want to go home,” I say.
“I can have someone—”
“Not to the townhouse. Home.”
I stand and move toward the hallway. But he’s quicker. He steps into my path, glaring down at me. How is it possible for a man to look protective and furious at the same time?
“Until this is over,” he says, voice husky, fierce, “you’re staying at the townhouse. We were seen in public. Anybody could’ve seen how much I care for you. You’re a target. Hate me if you want, but you’ll never stop me from protecting you.”
I place my hand on his chest, meaning to push him away. But then he does something that should outrage me. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a kiss.
And I let him.
Somehow, miraculously, it’s like we weren’t just arguing. It’s like he didn’t just admit to killing ten men. And ordering the deaths of many more.
He grabs my hips and pulls me right up against him. I gasp in shock, but then something else takes over. It’s like kissing him erases everything else for a few insane moments.
“You make such a beautiful, breathy noise when we kiss,” he whispers against my lips. “Like every time, it surprises you. Like you don’t know how it can feel so good. I feel the same.”
“I need to go,” I say.