Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“That was an asshole thing to do,” she mutters.
“I’m sorry, Grace.”
She nods before staring at the view around us.
My phone starts to ring, disturbing the silence, and I pull the device out of my pocket.
Not recognizing the number, a frown forms on my forehead as I accept the call.
“Varga speaking.”
“Where are you?” a man with a thick Russian accent snaps angrily.
Climbing to my feet, every muscle in my body tenses as I growl, “Who is this?”
Grace’s eyes widen, and her relaxed demeanor vanishes.
“Pavlov,” he grits his name out.
I let out a dark chuckle, and murder coats my words, “You have guts calling me.”
“Want to know what else I have?” he growls.
“Sure,” I mutter, sounding bored. “Let’s play this game.”
“Devlin’s dead body lying by my feet. I killed your business partner, Varga. He begged me to give him a chance to find you.” Pavlov lets out a burst of laughter. “He was willing to betray you.”
“I want to see proof,” I demand as my eyes flick to Grace, who’s watching me like a hawk.
I hear another burst of laughter, and a second later, my phone vibrates. I check the incoming message, and it shows a photo of Ian lying in a pool of blood, his throat cut open.
Jebat! If I hadn’t insisted on marrying Grace and leaving this morning, she would’ve been at the mansion during the attack.
Bringing the device back to my ear, I make sure there’s zero emotion in my voice as I say, “You did me a favor. Now I own one hundred percent of the market.”
“Only until I slit your throat open,” he threatens me.
“Not if I kill you first,” I chuckle darkly.
“I’ll find you, Varga,” he says, and I hear him moving around. “Devlin said you married his daughter.”
I fist my hand, the need to rip the fucker through the phone so I can beat him to death flooding my chest.
“The blond or the redhead?” he asks. “They both look fuckable.”
“How about you wait at Devlin’s place, and I’ll come to tell you in person,” I growl.
His annoying as fuck chuckle comes over the line again. “Nah, the place is a mess, and the cops will be here soon. Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends, and I take a moment to breathe through the anger burning in my chest before I look at Grace.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes filled with caution.
Knowing I must look fucking dangerous right now, I crouch beside her chair so I’ll seem less threatening to her.
“I have news,” I say, my eyes searching hers for any sign of a panic attack.
“What?” she whispers.
“The Russians killed your father.”
Shock tightens her features, and a weird mixture of emotions plays out over her face.
Unable to tell how she feels, I ask, “Are you okay?”
Slowly, she nods while her eyebrows draw together. Seconds pass then sadness fills her gaze.
Rising to my feet, I take hold of her shoulders and pull her up. I wrap my arms around her and vow, “I’ll kill Pavlov.”
“Is he the same man that kidnapped me?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She pulls back and shakes her head. “All for a couple of missiles?”
“Which they want to use against me so they can take over the arms market,” I explain.
“This is insane,” she mutters, then I watch as the blow of her father’s death hits. “Oh my God. Dad’s dead?”
“Yes.” I rub her shoulder.
She pulls away from me and walks closer to the clear banister around the veranda from where she stares at the nature below.
“Ciara will be safe now. He won’t search for her so he can force her into an arranged marriage that will line his pockets,” I hear her say. “Shit, I have to tell Ciara.” She pats over her pockets and glances at the sliding doors. “Where did I leave my phone?” Her frown deepens. “Dad’s dead.”
I close the distance between us and yank her to my chest. Wrapping my arms tightly around her, I say, “I’m sorry for your loss, Grace.”
Jebat, Pavlov really did me a favor. Had I been the one to kill Ian, I’m not sure where that would have left Grace and me.
I didn’t think she cared about her father, but from her strong reaction, it’s clear I was wrong.
“He wasn’t always a crap father,” she whispers with a trembling voice. “Before our mother died, he loved us.” She pulls back, and I watch as her features harden. “But then he traded me twice, and that destroyed everything good there was between us.”
Not liking her words, I say, “You weren’t traded to me, Grace.”
“I was part of a deal you had with him,” she snaps.
“No, Ciara was.” I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the side of her neck. “I took you. Ian had no choice in the matter.”
She stares at me until I let go of her.