Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
God, I love my brothers, but you can absolutely hate and love somebody at the same time.
I clench my teeth. "Don’t talk to me that way."
He throws his hands up in the air. "I'm going to secure the border. I'm going to make sure that we're safe. Talk some damn sense into her," he snaps at my mother before he storms away.
Harper stares at me, her eyes wide. "What will Soloto do if he gets you?" she says in a small voice. She was married to my brother in an arranged marriage, sight unseen. And that worked out… well. Eventually. Maybe this man…
"We won't talk about that," Aleksandr says quietly. "He has no interest in marrying her, Harper.” His voice lowers. “He has no interest in doing anything that we would ever allow anybody to do to her."
The chilling sound of his voice sobers me. I have to escape, whether I want to or not. Today is not the day I will break free from my brothers' domineering ways.
"Mikhail told me to get you ready," my mother says quietly as she lays a hand on my arm. "I already had a bag packed in case something like this happened." She knew. My mother knew. "On the floor of my closet is an ivory bag. There's a silver luggage tag on it. That's yours.” She draws in a breath. “The one next to it is mine. Go get both of them.”
"You are going with me?" I ask, my heart pounding. "Yes," she says softly. "But I have some phone calls I need to make. Go, Polina. Get the bags. We're going to Moscow."
Chapter 3
RAFAIL
"Is she alone?"
"Of course she isn't," Semyon says with an eye roll and icy glare. "She's got an old lady with her and two guards.”
"Old lady?" It’s illogical, frankly, unless she’s employing the classic tactic of hiding in plain sight, exactly where she’s least expected. Right in the heart of Moscow, within walking distance of Zalivka.
"Are you sure this is the right person?" I finger the cufflinks in my pocket, my good luck charms. I don’t go anywhere without them.
Semyon's eyes narrow at me as he slowly pushes his glasses further up his nose. He never makes mistakes. His precision is perfect in damn near everything he does. My right-hand man, Semyon is calm and pragmatic, a master of calculated methods and, when he executes, foolproof. We're identical when it comes to brute force and fear as an effective tactic, but Semyon is the strategist, always seeing several moves ahead.
“Of course I’m right. Do I make mistakes?”
Arrogant, yeah, but he knows his shit. I give him a sharp look as he scrolls through footage and notes on his phone.
Tall and muscular with sharp, angular features, Semyon’s demeanor is cold but composed. He's protective of our younger siblings, prone to showing his care through actions and not words. The cool technician behind our empire's most successful operations. I know what he's put on the line for our family. I know what I have. I know that both of us prioritize our family's stability above all else, and even though I am the eldest and was technically guardian of the rest, he's always pulled his own weight.
"Remember why we're here," Semyon reminds me, always the foil to my intensity. He checks his watch, a force of habit, before he glances at the specs of our location on his phone. "And remember who’s watching. Tempting as it may be, you can't punish her on the streets of Moscow, Rafail, no matter how badly you want to." His voice drops, and his eyes grow ice-cold. "No matter how much she deserves it. Save that for when you get her back to your house."
I breathe in through my nose, and I know he's right. I didn't get to where I am by being hardheaded and impulsive. That would be Rodion, who is standing behind me now, casually flipping a switchblade open and closed.
"Put that away," I snap. “Jesus.” Always the reckless one, though he’d call it courageous, and always the one to land on his two fucking feet like a cat. But thankfully, he has some respect for me.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Rodion.” He blows out a breath and, with great reluctance, tucks his knife away. He loves his fucking weapons. Some assholes jerk off to pinups or porn, but I swear to fuck, Rodion would stroke one off with his handgun if he could.
"What's your plan?" he says, not bothering to hide a note of jealousy in his tone. "Take her back. Tie her up.” He wriggles his brows. “Punish her before you do dirty things to her?"
My vision blurs as rage thrums through my veins. "She fucked over our family," I say with cold deliberation. "I will bring her back. I will tie her up. And I will punish her."