Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“One question at a time, Rayenka.” Sergei calls me by the nickname he would never use in front of the other men because that would mean he was showing favoritism toward me.
“Tell me.”
“Join me.” He motions his head at Kyle. “You too.”
Anastasia kisses his cheek then tiptoes over and whispers in my ear, “You’ll tell me all about the fun you had last night, okay?”
I push her away teasingly, and she giggles as she heads back up the stairs.
One of the guards opens the dining room door for Sergei, and the three of us go inside.
We’re greeted by a heated argument between the four kings in Russian. Adrian and Vlad are nowhere to be found. It’s not a surprise in the case of Adrian since attending meetings isn’t a habit he maintains, but Vlad’s absence is concerning.
“Where’s Vlad?” I ask Sergei.
“He’s taking care of the police procedures so that nothing falls back on us,” he tells me, speaking low enough so the others don’t hear. “The attack caused quite the commotion.”
“It’s all because of your reckless behavior,” Igor accuses Damien.
“Me?” Damien laughs. “Sure thing, Igor, let’s blame your lack of competence on me, shall we?”
“You fucked up, Orlov.” Kirill throws his own accusation. “You threw us into a war we do not need.”
“Stop being a pussy, Kirill. This is not rainbows and fucking unicorns. This is the Bratva.”
“One of my men died,” Kirill snarls. “Are you going to go to his mother and deliver the news?”
“No, but I will give her his fucking medallion of honor, because he died for his brothers.”
“Two of my men were injured, too,” Mikhail says, sipping from his glass of vodka. In fact, all the men aside from Igor have glasses of liquor in front of them. If they’re drinking alcohol first thing in the morning, then shit is hitting the fan.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, old man.” Damien rolls his eyes. “Your men need retraining.”
“Are you saying my men are incompetent, Orlov?” Mikhail’s face reddens with exertion.
“Exactly. Did dealing with pussy turn you into one?”
“You fucking—” Mikhail stands up, probably to punch Damien, but Sergei’s presence makes them fall silent.
He slowly lowers himself into his seat, his expression neutral.
I attempt to sit beside Damien, but Kyle cuts in before me and snatches the seat so I’m forced to take Igor’s side.
“Blaming each other won’t bring any results,” Sergei says as an indirect reply to the quarrel we witnessed. “We’re brothers and we help our own when they’re in need.”
Grumbles and clearings of throats fill the room as Damien gives the other three a smug look.
“Lazlo and Kai were shot yesterday,” Igor says. “That could bring the Italians and the Japanese closer or throw them apart.”
“We need to test the waters with both,” I say.
Mikhail clicks his tongue. “Shouldn’t you be on a honeymoon or something?”
I smile. “And leave you to screw things up?”
Damien snickers under his breath, and I give him an appreciative glance.
“Test the waters?” Sergei asks.
“Kai thought we were the ones behind it, so if we prove we aren’t, he’ll bring the Japanese’s full arsenal.”
“So will the Italians,” Kirill chips in. “Especially since they know about the Irish threat.”
“We should send highly ranked people to both camps,” Igor repeats my suggestion from earlier.
“I will meet with Kai,” I say. “He seemed open to dialogue yes…terday.”
My voice catches at the end when something moves inside me. The toy—it’s vibrating.
Holy. Hell.
There’s no noise, but the stimulation is definitely there.
My eyes widen, flying to Kyle across the table. He sits with one of his hands clutching a drink while the other is hidden under the table, no doubt causing this.
My panties feel soaked in mere seconds, and any squirming I do only causes the friction to increase.
“Are you okay?” Igor asks with genuine concern, obviously noticing the fidgeting. Please don’t tell me my face is flushed or something.
“I-I’m fine,” I manage to mutter.
I try meeting Kyle’s gaze, but he pretends to be overly interested in Sergei. His sharp features are relaxed, nonchalant even, as he speaks. “Kai appeared convinced. I suggest Kirill makes sure of that since he has better relations with the Yakuza than anyone here.”
“I can check,” Kirill complies.
I try to focus on him and not the humming inside me, but it’s almost impossible with the stimulation. It’s like I’m back in the shower with Kyle’s fingers inside me, and—
No. Get out of my head.
“In the meantime, allow me to visit the Italians,” Kyle tells Sergei. “Since it was my wedding, I can apologize to the Don and get an idea of what they’re thinking.”
“An apology goes a long way with the Italians,” Igor says.
“Exactly.” Kyle grins at his father then his gaze slides to me, slowly, unhurriedly, before his lips pull up in a smirk.
Stop it, I mouth, gripping the edge of the table for balance.