Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Ayla’s mouth fell open, and she squinted at Alessio, almost glaring at her husband. “Only for my wife, though,” he continued, now smirking. Bastard. He was toying with her. Ayla squirmed from where she was sitting before leveling him with a hard look.
She cruelly poked his chest, right over his fresh wound. Alessio choked back a scream, his face tightening. He brought his hand over his heart, and he clutched his chest, his shoulders caving in. “Shit. What the fuck? I was only joking, Angel.”
He was chuckling, though.
I shook my head at both of them. Ayla ignored Alessio as she faced me once again. “How is Valerie?”
“Sleeping. She is…okay. I guess?” I wanted her to be okay. I needed her to be okay. And I willed myself to believe my words.
Ayla stared at me for a second. She looked thoughtful before asking, “Do you want to tell us what happened? We’d think after everything, you two would be happy to be back home. But instead, you only look broken. I’m thinking not everything went as you planned.”
My heart lurched painfully and my stomach caved in, my ribcage folding over my lungs. It became hard to breathe, and suddenly the room felt too hot. I rubbed my aching chest, feeling it almost throb. The words spilled out, and I told them the truth. Guilt ate my insides, suffocating me.
I told her about my plan…I told them about Yegor, Irina…and Erik.
Why Valerie looked so…broken. I told them everything.
Reliving the past was harder than I thought. Each inhale left an invisible scar. Each exhale left a burning sensation in my chest. When I was done, both Ayla and Alessio were silent. My knees felt weak, and the inside of me seem to quiver. My heart was a frail organ, I realized. It made me a weaker man. So fucking weak.
Ayla eventually nodded, her eyes filled with nothing but understanding. “Give her time. As long as you are together, all wounds will eventually heal. Yours and hers.”
“I think so too.”
“But you’re scared,” Ayla finished for me. I couldn’t look at her face anymore. That soft understanding expression on her. As if she could read me like a fucking book.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I scratched my stubbled jaw. I couldn’t bring myself to confirm her words. “It’s okay to be scared, Viktor. Things happened. You’re not God. You can’t protect everything and everyone. You can only do so much when you’re trying to handle it all alone. I’m sure Valerie understands that. Right now, she’s hurting. It’s hard losing someone you loved and cared for. So give her time to settle.”
I closed my eyes as a wave of pain sliced through me, but I nodded anyway.
“My turn,” Alessio said, his voice holding a command that could even make the walls tremble and want to kneel.
Ayla only huffed, though, and I opened my eyes once again to see her crossing her arms over her chest.
Alessio stared at me blankly, his hand unconsciously rubbing the bandages covering his wide chest. I knew my bullet hit him good, right where I needed it. It had been close to his heart…so fucking close. But not enough to kill him in an instant. It was a gamble with the King’s life and death.
“Why did you bring me to Russia when your plan was already kicking into action? You didn’t need me there. Fuck…you didn’t even need to shoot me if you were already planning to poison Valentin and blow his fucking estate up.”
Ah. The big question. He wasn’t beating around the bush, it appeared. “It’s all part of the game, Alessio.”
His eyes narrowed on me, his face vicious. “Fuck…you. I have a hole in my chest, asshole.”
“Like me. Matching scars. Soulmates, I tell you. Soulmates.”
Alessio growled, his chest rumbling. But Ayla interrupted, and she cut through our daily pissing each other off contest. “Explain. Now.”
“Three reasons why I needed you there,” I started. “First, it made Valentin feel like he accomplished his greatest desire. He was flying high, Alessio. You should have seen him. He thought he’d won. That look on his face. It was worth it, to look at him and then watch him crumble to the floor. Isn’t that the best part of torture? Make them feel like they won something? Give them what they wanted most? And then take it away in a split second. It hurts like a motherfucker. Think of it as giving a prisoner their last request before their execution. And that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to get a taste of what it felt like to win. I wanted him to taste victory. I wanted him to taste the throne, the crown…what it feels like to be Pakhan. A King. For a minute. And then I took it away. I only wished you had seen his face. It was worth everything I put on the line.”