Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Mila!” he yells, throwing his arms around me. He doesn’t even react when he accidentally drops his console, which hits the floor.
I kneel down and cling to him tightly, trying to fight the tears at first, but then I just let them come. I throw myself into them. I let them take me over completely. Holding my brother tightly, I don’t think about what Nikolai did or is still doing. I don’t let myself dwell on how messed up this is, the man of my dreams killing my father to save me. The world isn’t fair. I need to get over that fact and start being realistic.
Suddenly, it all becomes clear. Right now, it’s like I’m a programmer who gets to decide just what function my future will have. I can choose to continue being miserable, resenting the fact I was born a Petrov, or I can do my best to make the future as bright as possible.
“I missed you, sis!” Drake says, clutching me with so much love.
“I missed you too.”
CHAPTER 22
MIKHAIL
As the life fades from Nikolai’s eyes, I twist the blade, taking no pleasure in it. I’m not sure why I thought I’d get any sense of relief from this. I’ve never enjoyed violence. I’ve never hated it either, but it’s never excited me. Even when I was torturing that prick, it felt right but not good. This is the same, only on a larger scale.
“Even Mila doesn’t know the full extent of your crimes,” I tell him. “All the women you’ve abused. All the children. Oleg told me, Nikolai, and it was all with my father’s blessing. Not anymore.”
He croaks, collapsing against the wall and sliding down it.
Moving away from him, I look down at the mess of his body, then toss the knife to the floor. There’s nothing good here. Only the stench of blood. Only ugliness.
I need to look toward the future and think about how I can help my woman heal instead of using hurt as a weapon, which won’t make anything better.
Taking out my phone, I shoot a text to Denis. It’s done. Send cleanup.
Then I take off my shirt and go to the corner of the room. As I requested, there’s a change of clothes for me and some cleaning wipes. I wipe myself down, clean the blood, and then change into a hoodie and jeans. Denis and a few other men walk toward me with grim expressions as I leave the room.
I don’t say anything. None of them will meet my gaze. At first, I think I must’ve done a shitty job at cleaning the blood. Then, I catch sight of myself in one of the hallway mirrors. I’m clean as far as I can tell, but there’s something in my expression—something terrifying.
As I walk down the hallway, I try to fix it. I don’t want Mila or her kid brother to be afraid of me. Oleg is waiting for me outside the room, his hands crossed over his middle.
“What was that crap in there?” I ask him. “Why did you tell Dimitri you’d give him three weeks to marry Mila? You know he’s not the one who’s going to marry her.”
“She needs to wed a Sokolov,” Oleg says matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t matter which one.”
I walk right up to him. At first, I think he’ll stand toe-to-toe, but he must be able to sense the darkness in me. He cringes away from me, seeming to become physically smaller.
“I’ll marry my woman,” I tell him, “when we’re ready. Got it?”
The truth is, I’m ready right now. I was ready the moment I saw her, but what if she’s not? What if she needs more than three weeks?
“I did not give that timeframe for amusement,” he says. “Three weeks is my best guess for how long I can keep control without an alliance. It might even be less.”
“You can leave now,” I tell him.
“What about the Pakhan?” he says, meaning ten-year-old Drake.
“I’m taking care of my woman and her brother,” I snap. “So either step aside, or we’ll settle it like men.”
After a moment, Oleg swallows and steps aside.
“And Oleg,” I say before he leaves. “If Mila, Drake, and I decide to take a trip to escape all this madness, don’t follow us.”
Then he sighs and walks down the hallway, shaking his head. I knock on the door. Mila calls, “Yes?”
I smile, taking a moment to savor the sound of her voice. She’s been so stressed and tense ever since this started, but there’s something different in her tone now.
“It’s me,” I say.
“Come in. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”
I take another moment to compose myself. I don’t want to scare the kid. I try to remember the man I was before this all started, and I laid eyes on my woman, but it’s impossible. It’s like the world didn’t exist before her.