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)
All three of them nod, their faces impassive. They know it’s not an idle threat. They’re on my payroll, have been ever since I received my inheritance a few months after my parents’ deaths. My brothers objected at first, claiming it was their duty to protect me, but I stood my ground. What did it matter to them, I argued, as long as I had proper security detail? So they gave in, however reluctantly, and I’ve been my bodyguards’ official employer ever since, ensuring that they’re loyal to me first and foremost.
Appeased, I lean back against the seat and focus on taking deep breaths to calm the frantic racing of my heart and ease the tension squeezing my temples. I need to figure out what to do, how to fix this mess I’ve created, and I can’t do that if I’m curled up in bed with another debilitating headache. I’ve been doing so much better in recent months, have felt so much stronger, yet here I am, about to unravel again.
No, fuck that. I’m not letting it happen. Clearly, Alexei is my kryptonite, in more ways than one, so there’s only one rational solution.
I have to take myself out of his orbit, get as far away from him as I can. Maybe I can go to Switzerland for a proper ski trip, or join Natasha on her upcoming vacation in Thailand. Then again, what if Alexei follows me there to do whatever it is he’s threatening? It’s not like he doesn’t have a private jet and an army of thugs to do his bidding. If anything, I’d be making it easier for him to steal me or whatever he intends. What I need is to completely fall off his radar for a time, so he’ll forget about what happened tonight and—
I sit up, electrified. Of course! The perfect getaway has been in front of me all along.
Nikolai’s new compound. It’s the closest I can get to disappearing while still remaining on the same planet.
This is it. This is the solution to all my problems.
When Nikolai leaves tomorrow, I will go with him—and Alexei will never find me.
Chapter 23
Present Day, Location Unknown
“You shouldn’t have run,” Alexei says as a gust of wind brings a cool spray of ocean water to the table. Or maybe it’s the beginnings of rain. The waves are intensifying, the yacht rocking harder. A zigzag of lightning bisects the rapidly darkening sky, followed by a bone-rattling boom of thunder. Soon, it’ll be too dangerous to sit here. I, however, am far more afraid of what awaits me below the deck, in the bedroom Alexei intends for us to share. I interlace my hands on the table to steady them as he continues. “We could’ve had this meal in a nice restaurant in Moscow.”
And with a lot less blood spilled. He doesn’t say that, but he doesn’t have to.
“What were you planning to do?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice calm as I pour myself a glass of water from a crystal pitcher on the table. My mouth is dry, and the caviar sandwich I consumed feels like it’s stuck halfway down my throat. “If I’d stayed in Moscow, what would you have done when I didn’t get into your car?”
A twisted smile plucks at his lips. “What do you think?”
I drain half of the water in the glass before setting it down. “I think you’re a monster capable of anything.”
“You know me so well.”
His dry tone makes me wince internally. Because he’s right. I don’t know him. At least not nearly as well as he knows me. All of my stalking of him was surface level, designed to keep me apprised of his whereabouts, whereas he’s delved into every area of my life, no matter how private. I regret that now, not getting to know him better before, when the stakes were much lower. Now he’s my captor, and I have no idea what his weaknesses are, how I can manipulate him into granting me freedom.
The dark, powerful man sitting in front of me is a mystery, a puzzle. All I know is that he wants me and has gone to incredible—and terrible—lengths to claim me. And all because… what? I’m beautiful as decreed by some arbitrary societal standard?
“Is it a status thing for you?” I ask, cocking my head. Maybe it’s not too late for me to try to get to know him, to understand what drives him.
His eyebrows furrow. “Is what a status thing?”
“Me. The betrothal. This whole obsession of yours.” I steady the pitcher as it begins to slide toward the edge of the table, aided by a puddle of condensation and a tall wave tilting the yacht. “You said it’s because of my looks, but Moscow is full of gorgeous women. So is it because I’m a Molotov? Do you want me because I’m both decorative and rich?”