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)
I suddenly understood why mafia wives dressed like this. This stuff was armor.
Rachel ran through more dresses with me, as well as skirts, blouses and tops. Everything fitted perfectly: it was like being in a store stocked only for me. I was in a slate-gray suit and white blouse when Radimir walked in behind me. “What is all this?” he asked, his accent leaving the words wonderfully rough.
I turned around and marched over to him, managing to only totter a little in my heels. “New wardrobe,” I said proudly.
“I’ve found out where we can meet our friend,” he told me in a low voice. He ran his eyes over me slowly, as if he was savoring every tiny part of me. “You look…”
“...good?” I asked hopefully.
He moved closer. “You looked good before,” he chided. “I was going to say you look ready for battle.”
He put his hand on my back and pulled me to him, then brought his lips down on mine, teasing me open and then devouring me, probably ruining all the carefully applied lipstick but I didn’t care. As soon as he let me up for air, Rachel shooed him away. “Make sure you get some lingerie,” he told me as he backed out of the door. “Something really sexy.”
Rachel shut the door, and we turned to each other. “Um. Do you have any lingerie?” I asked, feeling my cheeks go hot.
“Darling!” She sounded almost hurt. She nodded to Alfredo, and he wheeled in a whole rack of lingerie, from simple bras and briefs to things that weren’t much more than a collection of leather straps.
When Rachel and Alfredo left, I had six full outfits, a selection of shoes and purses, an entire make-up kit and an armful of lingerie. I also had a bill for...my stomach dropped as I saw the figure. I knew Radimir wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow but...am I ever going to get used to this?
I packed a bag with a selection of clothes and went to look for Radimir. The mansion was huge, but I finally found him in the kitchen. “I’ve booked us flights,” he told me. “If we leave now, we can—”
We both turned, startled, as Gennadiy stalked in. He looked back and forth between us, suspicious. “What’s going on?”
53
BRONWYN
Radimir and I were silent, caught utterly off guard. All I could think about was my bag, packed for the trip. It was right behind me on the floor. Did my legs hide it enough for Gennadiy to miss it? “I was just about to make a sandwich.” I said, shocked at how easily I lied, now.
Gennadiy blinked at me. Then his face cracked into a rare smile. “He’s told me about your sandwiches.”
I glanced at Radimir, amazed. He talks about me?
Gennadiy’s smile faded. “I came to tell you that Spartak’s men shot at two of our guys as they were walking through the old neighborhood. Both of them are going to be okay, but…” He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair. “Spartak’s men weren’t too careful where they sprayed bullets,” he said bitterly. “Some of them went through the wall of a house. A four-year-old was killed.”
I looked across at Radimir and saw him grip the edge of the kitchen island, his knuckles white. He didn’t rage, didn’t shout. I knew all of the anger was being directed inward, that he’d blame himself for this. It isn’t your fault!
“I’ll make sure the family is taken care of,” said Gennadiy. “Whatever they need.”
Radimir nodded stiffly. Then he glanced across at me and I could see the pain and desperation in his eyes. We had to stop this war. Now.
“I’ll leave you to your sandwich making,” Gennadiy told us. I saw him glance between us and for just a second, I thought I saw something like longing in his eyes. Then he turned away and marched towards the door. “There’s turkey, ham and cheese in the refrigerator, bread in the bread bin,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m not sure where the chef keeps the mustard but it’s in here somewhere.”
Radimir suddenly ran after Gennadiy, spun him around and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Thank you for everything you do, brother,” he told Gennadiy. “I always know our family is in safe hands.”
He’s saying goodbye, I realized, and my chest went tight. He thinks he might never see him again.
Gennadiy seemed surprised, but then he returned the hug just as fiercely. He stepped back, his eyes full of emotion, then nodded to Radimir and headed off down the hallway.
Radimir and I let out a long sigh of relief, but it was tempered: Gennadiy had reminded us just how bad things were, out there. And we were going out there without backup.
“We can’t take my car to the airport,” Radimir told me. “Spartak will have people watching for it.”