Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He takes my hand again, holding it like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. And for the first time, I let myself lean into it, letting him anchor me in this new, terrifying, thrilling reality.
I can’t shake the feeling that this is all just a fairy tale. Just a made-up dream of made-up people, and when I open my eyes and wake, I’ll remember who I am and why I’m here.
I can’t lie. A part of me can’t help but imagine a future together. But that can’t be.
I might fangirl over a masked man with tats and Bratva ties, but in real life… is this really what I want?
For now, I’m going to enjoy this.
For now, I’m going to… pretend this is real.
Chapter 18
RODION
If that motherfucker shows his face, he’s a dead man walking. A fucking dead man.
I don’t even know what the fuck he did to her when she was younger, but I don’t need all the details. Any enemy of Ember’s is an enemy of mine.
I make a quick call to Rafail. When he answers, I hear the baby’s wail in the background and his wife Polina’s voice, trying to hush the baby.
“Rodion.” I can hear the underlying concern in his voice with one word. My brother’s a hard-ass, and sometimes I wonder if he’s fully human, but this is the man who gave up his entire life to raise our family.
He’d do anything for us.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, so far. Can you rearrange the flight details so we can fly out tonight?”
Without hesitation, he answers. “Of course. How soon?”
“The sooner the better.”
“Give me a minute. You need to pack?”
“Yeah, we are doing that now.”
“We,” he repeats but doesn’t pry. “Call me in thirty.”
I hang up the phone to see Ember staring at me. “You can just… call for an airplane. Like I’d call for an Uber.” I love when she bites her lip and twirls her hair, those bright green eyes watching me as if to see what will happen next.
I shrug. “Might not be a plane.” I feel I need to clarify so she doesn’t get the wrong idea. “Might be a jet or helicopter or something.”
The subtle shift of her brows heavenward means that didn’t really help.
“So you have to get somewhere and pow. Here’s a plane. Dude, do you know what we call that in the book world?”
“Did you just call me dude?” I wrinkle my nose at her, but she doesn’t respond. She steps closer to me and places both of her hands on my shoulders, standing up on her tiptoes.
“Competency porn,” she breathes out.
Not gonna lie; my voice is a little husky, and I kinda feel like a lovesick teen right now. “Did you say porn?”
Leaning in, she traces my lips with her index finger.
Well, fuck. Who knew that was hot?
I swallow, my hands framing her hips as our lips meet. The world falls away, just for a second, when we kiss. I wish I could deepen this, bend her over and kiss her until she’s panting and begging for me until she’s wet and needy, but I can’t.
We have to go.
“Competency porn,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what the fuck that means, but if it makes you happy, I’ll do it again. Now go. Pack your bags. And don’t forget your camera. They’ll be counting on it.”
“Which one?” she moans, then under her breath, “Why do people always think I have one camera?”
“Ember,” I warn. When she starts tossing things into a bag and clearing out the shelf in her bathroom, I give the place another look around. “You need help?”
“Nope!” she says with a look of triumph. “I’m packed. Let’s go. Your place next?”
“I wish.”
I’ve been trying to get her there since the day I met her. Back to a place where we can linger in a king-sized bed, shower in a place that doesn’t look like the floor is going to cave in, and sleep where I know I’ve got top-notch security. She deserves better, and I aim to give it to her.
But today isn’t the day. I don’t have time.
“I’m fine. I’ll have what I need in New York. I live there.”
Our ride waits, idling at the curb. Rafail pulled through. I’ll be driving this one though.
I reach for her bags. All she needs is a head shake and a grunt before she lets me take them.
As I load her bags into the SUV’s trunk, I feel her gaze on me like a brand. I glance over my shoulder, and there she is, arms crossed, those sharp green eyes tracking my every move. She’s doing that thing again—biting her lip like she’s about to say something snarky, but she hasn’t decided if it’s worth the trouble.
“What?” I snap, slamming the trunk shut.
She raises an eyebrow, all mock innocence. “Nothing. Just marveling at how a guy like you goes from mafia muscle to luggage handler in under five minutes.”