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)
Part of me wants this because I’m not immune, but a part of me still balks at his arrogant claims.
Also… All. They’ll all see that.
All who?
My stomach flips. I tell myself it’s nerves. It has to be. But there’s something raw in his gaze that makes me feel stripped bare, and for once, I don’t know what to say.
Instead, I look down at the book in my lap—my favorite kind of escape.
“Gonna read?” he asks, with that signature smirk. “Want me to read it to you?”
“Uh, no. I don’t need you to point out the inaccuracies or poke fun at the dialogue or mock the sex scenes. I love it, and you can go watch YouTube or… analyze a spreadsheet or something.”
Looking at the title, he shakes his head. “Oh god.”
That does make me giggle.
When he gets up to go check in with the flight crew, I use the reprieve to pull out my phone. I open the app, the comforting, familiar routine settling my nerves. I am so overdue for a post, and this is the perfect opportunity.
“Plane reads,” I murmur to myself, holding up The Bratva’s Own—a title that hits me a bit too close to home—and hit record. The video is simple—just me showing the cover, my voice light and teasing. “Jetting off with my current obsession. Could you say no to this?” I glance at the camera and give a playful wink before ending the recording.
Satisfied, I tuck my phone back into my bag.
Rodion returns just as the pilot announces our descent, his presence immediately commanding the space. His hand brushes the small of my back as I stand, sending a rush of warmth through me. “Nervous?” he asks, his lips close to my ear.
I swallow hard, nodding despite myself.
"Millions listen to you because you’ve got something real to say. You dive headfirst into this fantasy crap because you show women they can own what they want in fiction and in real life." He brushes his lips over my cheek, his voice a low rasp. "Don’t back down from that, beautiful. Own it." And for a moment, with his heat against me and his words grounding me, I almost believe him.
I take in every detail as we get into the back of a car that’s supposed to take us to his family.
“Okay, alright,” I say as if psyching myself up, as I rub my hands down the length of my jeans because the palms are damp. “I can do this. We can do this, right?” Just before I start a shoot or a video, there’s a moment of nervous energy, like this time, I’m going to forget how to do this. This time, they’ll all know I’m just a fraud—and when I push past it, I hit my groove. The nerves melt away, and I’m just… me.
I have to do the same now.
A soft kiss at my temple makes me draw in a ragged breath. “Yeah, little queen. We can.”
“So what’s the plan?” His fingers lace with mine as we drive through the city. “When’s the gala?”
“Tomorrow.” Leaning in, he nuzzles my neck. “So I have you all to myself tonight. We get to sleep in. In the morning, we meet my family.”
My stomach drops out from under me.
Already?
The car ride is smooth, the kind of luxurious glide that makes me hyperaware of everything. The leather under my fingers, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his hand rests possessively on my thigh. I can’t stop fidgeting, my palms damp despite the chilly air-conditioning.
“Relax,” Rodion says, his lips brushing against my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Breathe. You’re with me.”
“With you,” I echo, forcing a tight smile. “That’s what I’m worried about,” I quip.
His laugh is low and rich, wrapping around me. “You’re going to make it through tomorrow night just fine. My family doesn’t bite—but I might.”
I shoot him a glare. “Not helping.”
We pull up to a towering hotel, all sleek glass and stone, and my nerves are back to full throttle.
It feels all a bit surreal—armed guards and uniformed assistants, every detail dripping with luxury and discretion. As we step into the private elevator, I let out a shaky breath. The space is pristine, with mirrored walls reflecting Rodion’s sharp gaze and my wide, uneasy eyes. I stare at the buttons, watching his hand move to select the floor, but instead of pressing it, he hesitates.
Uh-oh.
I know that look by now. I know the way his eyes grow heated and dangerous, and maybe it’s my romance-cultivated imagination, but I swear this is when he transforms from human into beast.
“Rodion.” I put my hand out in a futile effort to stop whatever he’s going to do. “What are you—”
Before I can finish, he slams the emergency stop button. The elevator jolts to a halt between the floors. The sudden stillness is deafening, save the rapid beating of my heart.