Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“I know. Now ask me if I fucking care.”
Her breathing grew ragged. “We can’t be together.”
“Why? Because of Oleg?”
Shit. Yeah. Oleg. She was more thinking about the fact that she was the Princess of the Bratva while he was a bodyguard for the leader of the Irish gang.
But, yeah, sure. Oleg.
“Yes.”
“Dump him.”
“No.” It was whispered, but the word seemed to echo around the room. Then Colm took a step back and her world started to shatter.
Don’t go.
Don’t leave me.
Stay. Please.
Fight for me. Be the one person who has fought for me.
“Why?”
“B-because I love him.”
“You need to stop lying to me!” It was a roar and she jumped, stumbling back in shock.
Something came over his face. A mask. One of cold indifference.
God.
She hated that. She wanted to do whatever she could to rattle him. To see some emotion on his face.
To reverse all of her answers and throw herself at him.
“I apologize for scaring you. For all of this. I will not bother you again.”
No.
No, no, no.
“Colm,” she whispered.
God, there was so much stark pain in that word that it made her legs shake. But he was already out of the room before she’d spoken.
And even if she wanted to run after him, she couldn’t make her legs work. So, instead, she slid onto the floor, her back against the wall.
Reaching into her pocket, she drew out the napkin with the drawing on it.
What did it mean?
Why did she keep dreaming about that image? Leaning her head back against the wall, she tried to figure this all out.
“What the fuck was Finlayson doing in here?”
Oh shit.
Sofia jumped to her feet, swaying dizzily. Nausea bubbled.
She really needed to get some sleep. She was going to make herself ill at this rate.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? He fucking you? You fuck him behind my back, you slut!”
She glanced at the door, noting it was shut, with a sigh of relief. Although she was starting to wish that Sacha would hear how Oleg spoke to her.
No.
That wouldn’t work out well.
Her mind was just too sluggish at the moment to keep playing the game.
“Of course not. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“You’re fucking stupid bitch. I seen way you look at him, lusting after him . . . you wet thinking about him?”
Sofia glowered at him.
He was such a fucking sick asshole!
“That’s none of your business.”
“I could make it my business, Sofia,” Oleg said in a low voice as he prowled toward her.
She felt her body throb with pain, with the memory of how he’d hurt her for killing Dima two weeks ago. He’d taken her on a pretense of a date, taking her back to his place to ‘punish’ her.
The bruises had healed, but there was no erasing the memory of the pain.
She’d had to be careful not to let Sacha see that she was in pain. To cover them all up.
But she wasn’t going to let Oleg touch her like that again. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything here. Not with other people around.
And the stupid part was that she was grateful that he hadn’t touched her in other ways.
Was she nuts?
Was this her life?
You should take your chances and tell Sacha. Screw what evidence he’s got. Sacha will know what to do.
That voice in her head had been whispering things to her lately. Maybe Oleg could sense that because it seemed like he’d become nastier.
More controlling.
He was here more, watching her.
“What that?” He glanced down at the napkin in her hand.
She screwed it up. “Nothing.”
“Why you draw that?”
“I . . . I don’t know. I had a dream about it. A nightmare, I guess.”
Shit. Why was she telling him that?
Something weird filled his face.
A knock on her door made him still. Sofia schooled her face into something serene as she called out.
Aleksandr walked in, and she breathed out a sigh of relief while trying to keep her face calm.
“Sofia.” He paused as he saw Oleg. “Shouldn’t you be at work? Bea is swamped out there.”
“Of course! I get right out there. Just needed to say good night to my girl. She head home to rest. Don’t want her too tired when I take her out soon.”
Oh God.
She really didn’t want to go anywhere to Oleg.
Maybe she could pretend to be ill.
Aleksandr’s concerned gaze ran over her. He’d already noticed her fatigue, but having Oleg point it out must have roused his protective instincts because he strode toward her.
“I’ll message Arseni. He’ll take you home now.” Aleksandr glanced at Oleg, who smiled slimily as he stepped out of the room. He glared at her behind Sacha’s back.
A clear warning to watch her tongue.
Why did he want her to leave, though?
Maybe it was just a ploy. He was pretending to care about her in front of Sacha.
That was likely it.
He was trying to gain brownie points and keep up this hoax that they were in a relationship.