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)
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I thought of that.”
We crept out of the mansion through the scullery. Gennadiy had men patrolling the grounds but they were looking outward, not inward, and we stuck to the shadows and managed to make it to the perimeter wall. Radimir lifted me up and I clambered over it, none too gracefully, and dropped down on the other side. Radimir dropped down next to me. “Now what?” he asked.
I pointed at Jen’s ancient station wagon, parked across the street. Even from here, we could see how it drooped despondently on its wheels.
Radimir stared at the butterfly stickers and peeling paintwork. “That?!”
“No one’s going to think you’re a Bratva boss,” I pointed out, and we hurried across the street. My legs were starting to throb already. I’d thought about bringing my crutches, but they’d make me stand out a mile, plus they aren’t made for sneaking. For as long as this crazy plan took, I’d just have to manage.
Jen had left the car keys under the wheel arch—it wasn’t like we had to worry about anyone trying to steal it. We climbed in and I got the engine started on the third try.
Radimir squeezed my hand. “Alright. Let’s go and find Konstantin.”
A little over an hour later, we were cruising at 30,000 feet, heading east towards New York. With the setting sun behind us, the clouds glowed red and amber and everyone was snapping pictures through the windows. But I barely glanced up: I was on my phone, reading every scrap of information I could find on Konstantin, determined to know everything I could about him. Two things were obvious: firstly, the man was freakin’ gorgeous. He had the face of a king, like he should be sculpted in bronze in some art gallery somewhere, with elegant cheekbones and a strong jaw, and eyes that were just barely blue, as if he’d allowed the color to creep in. My heart belonged to Radimir but if I’d been anyone else…
Secondly, he wasn’t shy. He was all over the press and social media, shaking hands with politicians, opening children’s hospitals and sipping champagne at society parties. A pretty brunette was always by his side, his arm around her waist as if they were inseparable. “His girlfriend?” I whispered to Radimir.
Radimir nodded and then, despite all the stress, the corners of his mouth tweaked into a half smile. He leaned closer, brushed my hair back from my ear and whispered. “I heard a story. A good one. I don’t know if it’s true.”
I did my best pleading face. It worked maybe too well because his gray eyes flared and melted, and he grabbed my hand as if he was about to march me off to the bathroom. Then he managed to get himself under control and he whispered, “I heard Konstantin had a girlfriend. A woman as evil as he was. When the two were apart for a few months, the FBI caught her and gave one of their female agents plastic surgery to make her look just like the girlfriend. The agent learned to walk like her, talk like her, everything. Then they sent this agent back to Konstantin...and he believed she was his girlfriend and welcomed her in. Except instead of spying on him like she was supposed to…”—he paused for effect—“she fell in love with him. And he fell in love with her.”
I sat there staring. “Is that true?”
Radimir shrugged. “It’s Konstantin. Who knows what’s true?”
My mind was spinning. “Do you think you’d know if I was an imposter?”
Radimir leaned close again. “Bronwyn,” he whispered, his rough-smooth accent caressing my brain, “I know the feel of every…single…inch of you.” His lips almost brushed my ear. “Inside and out.” I flushed down to my roots. “And besides, no imposter would hum like you do, when you make your sandwiches.”
I stared at him. “I don’t hum!”
“Yes, you do. When you’re buttering the bread. Always the same tune.” He smiled. “I call it your sandwich song.”
All those weeks in the penthouse, he was watching, listening...
I threw myself at him and kissed him hard, and he wrapped me up in his arms and kissed me back even harder. For a moment, I forgot everything else.
But then the tannoy bonged and we were told we were starting our descent into New York. We reluctantly unwound and exchanged worried looks. This is it. Either my crazy plan would work...or the whole Aristov empire was about to fall.
A few hours later, Radimir pulled our rental car over to the curb and turned off the engine. “That’s it,” he told me, nodding at a house across the street. “Konstantin’s in there.”
We were on a quiet residential street full of beautiful old townhouses that probably cost ten million each. Something was going on at the house Radimir had pointed at: two couples were climbing the stairs and, as I watched, a limo dropped off another three people. “A party?”