Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I’m known to go from smiling to stabbing faster than most men can light a cigarette.
Except for some reason, this girl itches at me. It’s like I want to make sure she’s happy, and if I can’t make that happen, at least I can make her comfortable.
“This is your home now,” I tell her with total sincerity, which is very rare for me. “Do what you want with it.”
That seems to stun her. For a second, her mouth hangs open, before she finally nods. Her voice breaks slightly. “Thank you.”
“I don’t care how much money you need. Rearrange this place however you want. Furniture, paintings, color the walls, it doesn’t matter. This is your space.”
“My dad never really let me change anything,” she says, staring down at the floor. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I recommend starting with a broom.” I grin slightly at the embarrassed look she throws at me. “But you’ll figure it out. Now, I need something from you.”
She gathers herself. The touched, vulnerable girl dissipates, leaving the straight-backed prim Lady Asshole in her place. There are three sides to this girl, and she uses each one with precision. “Here I was thinking you were being altruistic.”
I was, but she can think whatever she wants.
“Nothing’s free,” I tell her and move closer. “There’s a meeting of the Brotherhood leaders. You have to come with me.”
Her eyes widen. Just a little hint of fear. “I can’t do that.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“But I only just got here. I don’t know anything about Baltimore. I barely have any clothes. I just can’t.”
I walk toward her. She backs away, chin up but with simmering panic in her eyes. She bumps into the wall, and I stop inches in front of her, looming over her like a beast. Let her see the mobster. Let her think I’m a demon and a brutal savage. What does it even matter? Everyone else looks at me and they know what I am.
Bloodthirsty fucking killer.
In my world, the line between sinner and saint is a blurry mess.
Dasha might as well get used to it.
“This is not optional,” I say, my tone dripping with malice. “After the meeting, if you want to hole up and hide away again, that’s your business. But I have to show you off. Let the other heads of the family know you’re just a girl and not some scary Russian viper. Do you understand?”
She nods meekly. Fuck, I want her to fight. Where’s that goddamn passion? I wish she’d try to knee me in the crotch or scratch out my eyes. I know that’s in her—but whenever I nudge just the slightest bit, she crumbles.
“I understand,” she whispers.
“And you’re not going to do anything about it?” I say between my teeth, almost desperate for her to push back.
She only shakes her head and stares at the floor.
Fuck. I want to grab her hair and pull. Make her meet my eye.
I want that defiance again.
But maybe it’s better this way. Most men in my position want a quiet, meek little wife to suck their dick and do their bidding, right?
That sounds miserable to me.
I’ll just have to be patient until one day she’s ready, and I’ll be fucking waiting, hungry for whatever she has to throw at me.
“And there’s one more thing,” I say gently, still standing over her. “You saw the door at the end of this hall?”
She nods, surprised, and looks up. “I didn’t know where it went,” she admits. “It’s locked right now.”
“That door connects to my rooms.”
She licks her lips and glances to the side. “Seriously?”
“You don’t have the key, but I do.”
“That means… our rooms share a wall?”
“The head of your bed is right up against the head of mine.”
Her cheeks turn pink again. “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“Feel comforted that there’s a wall separating us.” I linger for a beat longer, tempted to reach out and touch her.
Instead, I tear myself away.
“When’s the meeting?” she blurts out.
“A few days. Get this place straightened up. I’ll send clothes for you to wear.”
“You’re dressing me now?”
“Might as well since you act like such an obedient little doll.”
I look back over my shoulder, grinning viciously, and her jaw is locked in a rage glare. Hell, yes, that pissed her off. She steps forward, hands balled into fists.
Now, finally, that’s the spicy little spitfire I want.
Come on, baby, let me have it.
Tell me what a bastard I am.
Tell me all the ugly truths we’ve both been thinking.
I’m a monster. I’m disgusting.
“Get out of my room,” she says, her voice shaking.
I wait, and there’s nothing else.
How much harder do I have to push before she explodes?
“Don’t forget about the deal,” I say as I head to her door. “The sooner we start trying to make that baby, the sooner you can get pregnant and get out of here.”