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)
When he slides the ring onto my finger… it feels heavier than it should.
Done.
This isn’t the wedding of my dreams.
And when I look at Rodion, I wonder.
Is it his?
I stare at the ring on my finger, my breathing shallow. I feel like I should say something, but I don’t know what, as the room erupts into cheers and someone starts pouring vodka. I take the shot glass thrust into my hand, even though I haven’t eaten breakfast and morning vodka sounds like a terrible idea. I’m afraid if I decline, I’ll break some type of unwritten rule.
Rodion’s eyes meet mine, anchoring me in place. When he brushes his fingers to my jaw, he leaves a trail of heat across my skin. Leaning in, he kisses me. And I remember why we’re here.
I remember his promise last night. I remember the way he said he loved me, the way he held me. The way he told me he would never let anyone hurt me, not ever again.
I remember how he promised to protect me and devote himself to me.
We may be new to this but hope blossoms in my heart.
Rodion is trying. So will I.
“Done,” he mutters, his hand resting at the small of my back as he steers me away from the officiant.
“We have coffee and breakfast for all in the dining room,” Ekaterina says with a smile. “Let’s celebrate.”
After Rodion and I sit down, Yana approaches with her husband. “Welcome to the family,” she says with a wide grin. “Try not to cause too much trouble. I’ve heard about those books.”
I let out a laugh, the tension in my chest easing a little. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Oh, I don’t,” she replies with a wink. “I’ve…seen the covers.”
Zoya is next. She steps forward with an almost apologetic smile. The poor girl is so timid. “If you need anything at all, please let me know,” she says with a smile and a swift hug. “It can be overwhelming at first. I know Polina had her work cut out for her though…” Her voice trails off. “She had other challenges too.”
Overwhelming is one way to put it.
Semyon is the one who makes a shiver trail down my spine. His eyes are ice, his tone even colder. The mood shifts like a cold wind. He stands apart from the rest, his movements deliberate and measured, as if he’s sizing me up.
“Welcome,” he says without a trace of a smile. The words are polite. The tone isn’t. He lifts a drink to his lips.
I muster a tight smile. “Thank you.”
Rodion’s stiffened posture beside me feels like a quiet warning, but before the tension can thicken, a booming voice breaks through.
“Ah, so this is the woman that think she knows all about us!” Matvei strides over, his grin wide and devilish. “Rodion, you didn’t warn her about the initiation, did you?”
“What initiation?” I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
Matvei’s grin widens. “The one where you have to prove you can survive in a room full of men who think your mafia book heroes are a joke.”
“Matvei,” Rodion says in warning, but his eyes are dancing.
“Oh, don’t forget the part where they’re all billionaires,” someone else chimes in. “Damn it, I missed the sign up.”
“Tell me,” Matvei says, “in these books do the men walk around in suits all day? Even when fighting off entire armies with their bare hands?”
“Bare hands and six packs,” Zoya chimes in, giggling.
I can’t help but laugh even as my cheeks flame. “I don’t write them, I just read them, okay?”
“But you’re the expert!” Matvei says, sitting down across from me with an exaggerated lean forward. He unfastens the top button of his shirt and gives me a wink. “So tell me how accurate they are. I am single…”
“Better start working on that six-pack. I mean, more accurately…nine pack, right?” Yana asks with a snort.
I glance around at them, realizing that for all their dangerous edges and reputations, there’s one thing the books get right: the sense of family loyalty you can’t ignore.
I look over to see Rafail standing next to a man the rest seem to be deferring to. He looks about Rafail’s age, with a tall, muscular build and tanned, golden skin. I watch him chatting with Rafail, their voices rising and falling, even when they maintain decorum.
“Mikhail Romanov,” Rodion whispers in my ear. “This is his home. His sister Polina is married to my brother.”
Oooh, right. I forgot about that. This is why they had to come and prove themselves, something about making a good show of things.
It doesn’t feel like a ceremony. I don’t feel… married.
But Rodion? His hand closes over mine, solid and sure, as he talks to the Romanov family.
I don’t know any of them and won’t be able to remember their names. I’m lucky I remember mine at this point. But there’s a tall, dark, and classically handsome one talking about biometric tracking and drones with Mikhail’s wife, a spitfire of a woman with glasses and a mane of curly hair, alongside a few lethal, menacing-looking Bratva types, as well as one who’s so big he has to turn sideways to walk in the room.