Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
The flush assaults my face again, and my inner muscles clench on a sweet, sharp ache. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. It’s his fault I’m so fucking inexperienced that his innuendos make me blush. His fault I’ve never even truly flirted with a guy, instead putting up a cool, untouchable façade at all the parties and social events. Ice Princess, they’ve started calling me in recent years, and I wish I could be that. I wish I could turn off the sexual part of me, the part only he has ever been able to ignite.
“Fuck you,” is the bright response I manage, and he lets out a low, rough laugh.
“Soon,” he promises, reaching for a caviar sandwich of his own. “Right after this meal, in fact. It’s time we finished what we started last winter… long past time, don’t you think?”
Chapter 20
9 Months Earlier, Moscow
I hate December in Russia. I used to love it, with all the New Year’s decorations on the streets and the festive atmosphere in all the shops and restaurants, but ever since the winter my parents died, I’ve despised this month. Normally, I go away somewhere, like Greece or Turkey or the Cayman Islands, but for some reason, Nikolai demanded that our entire family gather today at his loft, forcing me to cut my Switzerland ski trip short.
I especially don’t want to be in Moscow because I know he will be here.
Alexei.
I haven’t seen him in person since Risha’s New York premiere, but I know he tracks my every move. His men are always there in the background, watching, waiting. For what, I don’t know, but I’ve grown so used to their silent, hidden presence that it’s as if they were my own bodyguards. What amazes me is that my bodyguards don’t seem to be aware of them. Well, for the most part. A couple of times, Vankov did raise an alarm after spotting someone following me, but he’s never been able to catch anyone.
Alexei’s men are good.
After my last encounter with him, I was so sure he was going to push for more that I decided to finally talk to my brothers and seek their help. I kept procrastinating on it, though, and as weeks stretched into months, I realized that my fears were groundless. Alexei isn’t done playing this strange, remote cat-and-mouse game with me. He hasn’t left me alone—if anything, I’ve been spotting more of his men around me—but he has stayed away, letting me go about my life without interference.
It’s helped that I’ve done my best to avoid being where he is. After getting blindsided by his appearance in New York, I’ve been discreetly keeping tabs on his movements. While my brothers inherited the bulk of our parents’ wealth, I have plenty of my own money, and I used a portion of it to hire a PI firm that my brothers know nothing about. The firm’s job is to keep me informed about all things Alexei Leonov, which is how I know that for the past year and a half, he’s been traveling all over Central Asia and the Middle East, building out the Leonov empire. And this is also how I know that last week, he returned from Tajikistan to attend the funeral of his younger sister, Ksenia, who was killed in a car crash, leaving behind a young son.
It’s an awful tragedy for the Leonov family, and as much as I despise Alexei, I can’t help but sympathize with the pain he must be feeling. I can’t imagine losing any of my brothers. All week long, I’ve been battling a bizarre urge to reach out to him and… do something. Express my condolences, maybe? Say I’m sorry for his loss?
No, that can’t be right. I know better than anyone how pointless such platitudes are, how more often than not, they add salt to a raw, gaping wound. So I don’t know what it is that I want to do, but the urge is like an itch under my skin, invading my thoughts at random moments during the day and keeping me awake at night. The last thing I need is to be in the same city with Alexei, lest I give in to this urge in a moment of weakness.
Fortunately, I’m not in danger of doing anything stupid tonight because I have to hurry to Nikolai’s place. Whatever he wants must be serious because while my middle brother has taken on the role of the de facto head of the family, he’s never mandated a family meeting before.
Everybody is already gathered in the living room by the time I walk into Nikolai’s luxurious, modern loft. I like it more than the penthouse I’ve inherited from our parents, but I’d never tell Nikolai that. For the past few years, he’s been pressuring me to move in with him or one of my other brothers, but I refuse to live my life under their watchful eyes. It’s bad enough that Pavel and Lyudmila, who still reside with me, report to my brothers on everything I feel and do. Living with Nikolai would be an especially bad idea, as we haven’t gotten along since that night.