Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I’m going to find them,” he repeats anyway. “We both know this was your uncle, and I’m going to make sure I hunt down all the men responsible, and I am going to kill them nice and slowly. I promise you that, malishka. They will suffer.”
“Valentin—”
“This isn’t only about you,” he says, a sharp anger bleeding into his voice. “This is about sending a message. The Brotherhood killed two of my men. They burned your mother’s house to the ground and nearly killed her too. That’s unacceptable. There has to be a response.”
“I feel like I got a second chance with you.” I lean back for a moment and study his face. His hard, masculine jaw and full lips. His light eyes and sharp chin. He’s so damn handsome, it kills me.
“This is important.” He touches my cheek softly. His knuckles brush down to my mouth and I kiss them. “I have to take care of my business.”
“I know you do. I know, I just—” I let out a long, shuddering breath. “I’m just afraid.”
He hugs me close against his chest. I feel bad, dumping my emotions on him—Valentin doesn’t need my stress on top of all his other responsibilities—but I can’t help myself. He’s the only person in the world that might understand what I’m going through, and I’m desperate to make sense of it all.
Until recently, I didn’t even know I had an uncle.
Now I find out he’s the head of a vicious Armenian crime family, and it turns out they’re trying to shake down my mother for the money she borrowed from them.
Oh, and my husband wants to slaughter them all.
This isn’t the world I grew up in. My father was a kind, quiet man, and my mother was a strong and independent woman. We were normal people.
And now, we’re in the middle of a war.
There’s a knock and the door opens.
I stare as my older brother, Luka, enters the room.
In all the excitement, I forgot about him. I should have called or texted, but it just didn’t occur to me, and now—
“Karine?” he asks, frowning from me to Valentin.
I hurriedly get out of Valentin’s lap. I can tell he doesn’t like that. “Luka, shit, I meant to call.”
“What’s going on?” He looks over to Mama and his face pales. “It’s seriously true? Mr. Papazian called to say there was a fire at home, and I had to ask a few people I know working at the hospitals if they knew anything, and now—” He drifts to Mama’s bed. “How bad?”
I tell him everything I know as he flips through Mama’s chart. Luka’s taller than me and looks exactly like Papa. He’s got dark hair and bushy eyebrows, and it’s like he’s never able to shave enough. He’s skinnier than I remember and he looks exhausted, and I’m guessing medical school hasn’t been easy.
“I’ll talk with her doctor,” he says when I’m finished. “Maybe they’ll tell me more if there’s anything else to say. But god, this is crazy, I can’t believe—” He stops himself, swallowing hard, and looks at Valentin. “Sorry, who are you?”
Valentin pushes himself to his feet. I walk to his side, heart racing, not sure what to say. Clearly, Luka doesn’t know about my relationship.
My brother and I aren’t close. We never were, not even when we were younger. Luka got everything, all the new clothes, the praise, the love, the opportunity, and everything I have was a hand-me-down at best. I grew up in boy’s clothes, in shoes that were falling apart, and made do with half-meant compliments and just enough attention to keep from falling apart.
Luka’s the golden boy. He’s the future doctor, the star of our little nuclear family. It doesn’t matter that he was barely around when Papa was dying; he was too busy in college and Mama would never, ever burden poor Luka. It doesn’t matter that he wasn’t saddled with debt. Why ruin his life when he has such a promising future?
Of course, the same logic was never applied to me.
I know that isn’t his fault. Maybe he accepted the differences between us too readily and he never pushed back against our parents, but I don’t totally blame him for that. I’m bitter toward him, and our relationship suffers because of it, but I don’t hate him. I never have.
I’m just reminded of everything I was never given when he’s around.
I touch Valentin’s chest. “Luka, this is my husband. Valentin, this is my brother.”
Neither man moves. Valentin puts an arm around me and pulls me close against him, almost like he’s being protective. Which is absurd.
After a shocked silence, Luka puts out a hand. “I didn’t know Karine got married, but, uh, it’s nice to meet you.”
Valentin hesitates. I elbow him, and he finally shakes. “You as well,” he says.