Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“I doubt that’s going to happen. Not while you’re here.”
“Alex—“
“Besides, I went to see Adriano earlier. I could’ve broken them when I was running around.”
I stare at him in surprise. “You did what?”
“We had a nice, productive chat, actually.” He takes the towel and holds it against his leg as he shuffles over to his phone and shoots off a text. “Doctor should be over in a little while to patch me back up.”
“Hold on a second. What happened with Adriano?”
He tells me the story, how he ambushed him outside of the club, and how they made their deal at the bar. The terms of their agreement hang in the air between us and I let them sink into my skin like burning hot coals.
“Lev won’t do it,” I say quietly and start pulling on clothes. “You know he’ll never agree.”
“He’ll do it.”
“Why would he? After what we did? It’s insanely unfair.”
“That’s true.”
“So why would he agree to marry a stranger when I refused to do it twice and managed to get out of it both times?”
He sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Lev believes in the family. I think it’s all he believes in, actually.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Losing Step nearly killed him. Then when you and I eloped, he felt like he was losing what was left of his family, and I think it pushed him off the deep end a little bit. He loves you, Natalya, you and your father and the whole fucking organization, maybe more than anyone else does. It gives him purpose. It defines him and helps keep some of his darkness at bay.”
I nearly laugh. Lev? Darkness? He’s the most lighthearted guy I’ve ever met.
But the more I think about it, the more I can see what Alex means. Lev’s always had to edge to him, but he’d very good at hiding that edge behind his charming laugh. He pretends to be this easygoing guy, and that might only be the mask he wears around other people. When we were kids, I remember catching moments when he wasn’t hiding himself, and it was terrifying. The coldness, the frosty chill beneath his warm exterior.
“It’s just not fair,” I say quietly.
Alex lays next to me on the bed, still holding the towel to his wound. “I know it isn’t.”
“We fucked up. We slept together in Paris and I got pregnant. Then we ditched my wedding and eloped. We did that, and now Lev has to pay the price for it?”
“You’re right, it’s not fair,” he says quietly and puts a hand on my thigh. I lace my fingers into his, and it feels strangely right, holding him like that. “But did anyone ask what you wanted? Either time?”
“No, of course not. But it’s not like I did it.”
“You don’t care about the family the way Lev does. You don’t get anything in return from the organization the way he does. Lev’s powerful and wealthy because of this family.”
“I was comfortable too,” I say very softly.
“Yes, you were comfortable, but you were never free to do what you want.”
I breathe in through my nose and blow it out. “It just feels wrong.”
“I know, baby, but we don’t have any other choice right now.”
“And if he won’t do it? What then?”
“We’ll figure something else out.”
I nod to myself and lean into him. There’s a quiet voice in the back of my mind that is extremely aware of how satisfied I’ve been sine marrying Alex, and not just sexually. The deep, horrible loneliness has slowly faded away, until now I feel like it was never there to begin with, like it’s only a bad memory.
“I trust you,” I say and I think I mean something else, but I’m not ready to give voice to that just yet.
He squeezes my hand, and I think that means he trusts me too.
Chapter 33
Natalya
Lev parks his BMW outside of a massive block-sized mansion right in the heart of Philadelphia. He kills the engine and I give him a hard look. I tried to talk him out of driving—his wound was only just stitched back together yesterday—but he insists that he’s fine.
“It’s almost not fair,” I muse as we get out and heard toward the house. “I mean, how expensive is this place?”
“Tens of millions,” he says casually. “But that’s how it is these days.”
The Zeitsev mansion is a gorgeous old Victorian-style building. Everything was renovated and updated, and even the gate makes no noise when I push it open.
“I thought there’d be more security,” I comment as we approach the front door.
“Look across the street.”
I glance over my shoulder and nearly stumble over a step. A man’s perched on the roof and he gives me a casual wave. A sniper rifle’s cradled in his arms.
An older woman answers the door. She must be Nikkita, the mansion’s housekeeper. I don’t know much about Valentin and I haven’t been here before, but I’ve heard my father talk endlessly about this place. He hates Nikkita for whatever reason—maybe because she doesn’t bow and scrape at his feet the way he likes.