Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
We ran all the way to the main hotel: I wanted to be somewhere public, with cameras, somewhere no one would dare touch us. In any other hotel, the bar would have been long closed but there was a group of women still knocking back cocktails and tearfully hugging each other, even at 5 am. Thank God for bachelorette parties.
I walked right up to the bar, where everyone could see us, and only then did I let myself stop and think. Who tried to kill us? Someone who’d wanted us to die scared, and in agony. Not just a rival, then. This was personal.
My stomach dropped. Spartak. He had connections with one of the Mexican cartels.
I reached for my phone, then remembered it was back in the room. I waved over the bartender and asked to use the landline and then, since we were in a bar and my hands were still shaking, I asked for a vodka.
“Make it two, please,” Bronwyn added, surprising me. She was still shaking too, and I pulled her close and stroked her hair while the bartender fixed our drinks. Then we both knocked them back...and I called Gennadiy.
He answered on the third ring, despite it being the middle of the night. “I’m pretty sure Spartak just tried to kill us,” I told him.
I heard him rubbing at his face. “He’d never break the ceasefire. The Eight would order him cut off.” Being cut off is the thing every Bratva family fears. If The Eight decide a family can’t be trusted, they can make them pariahs: no one is allowed to help them or even talk to them. No family can stand on its own, so being cut off is a death sentence: your enemies wipe you out within days.
“Well, something’s happened,” I said. “Find out what.” And I gave him the hotel number to call us back on. Then I slipped my arm around Bronwyn’s waist and pulled her close. She’d been amazing, back there. Calm, strong, and she’d saved my life twice. I hated that she was in danger because of me. “I never meant for you to be part of this,” I muttered.
She pressed herself to my side. She’d stopped shaking but she was still pale and drawn. Considering what she’d just been through, she was holding together amazingly well.
Just a few minutes later, the hotel phone rang, and I snatched it up. I could hear Gennadiy breathing at the other end, but he didn’t speak. “What is it?” I growled, and held the phone so that Bronwyn could listen, too.
He took a deep breath. “The Eight have thrown us under the bus, brother. They’re denying they told us to kill Spartak’s brother. They’re saying we broke the truce, all on our own. They told Spartak last night that the ceasefire is over and that it’s open season on us.” Gennadiy swallowed. “They’ve cut us off, Radimir. We’re dead!”
49
BRONWYN
I’d always thought of Radimir as unbreakable. But he just slumped, all his power and confidence gone. It was terrifying. He was the one who protected me from people like Spartak. If he was beaten…
But then I forced the fear down inside. The Pakhan needed his wife.
I gently put a hand on his back. He turned, but his eyes were distant, and it took him a few seconds to focus on me.
“It’ll be okay,” I told him. “You’ll figure it out. You’ll find a way. You always do.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath...and then he straightened up a little and nodded gratefully. His eyes locked with mine and a little of his strength seemed to creep back. His hands reached for his waistcoat and then he realized he wasn’t wearing one. But he tugged his polo shirt straight instead. “Let’s get back to Chicago,” he said.
A few hours later, we were on a plane. I had a blanket wrapped around me, but I couldn’t get warm: a cold fear was sinking into my bones. We’d escaped...but we weren’t flying to safety. We were heading back to Chicago, right into the lion’s den. I looked across at Radimir. I’d almost lost him tonight.
And that’s when I realized something. If I couldn’t drag him away from the Bratva, there was only one option left. It scared the hell out of me, but it was the only way I could at least have some input, and maybe help keep him alive.
I had to become one of them. Part of the Bratva. A mafia wife.
50
BRONWYN
We were met at the airport by two of Radimir’s men, who escorted us back to the penthouse so that we could freshen up and change. Radimir looked much more like himself, back in his normal three-piece suit. But he still looked grimly serious. I remembered the early days, when I’d wondered if I’d ever see him smile. Now I wondered if I’d ever see him smile again. He told me he had to meet with his brothers, and I nodded. “I’d like to come too,” I said nervously. “If that’s okay.”