Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
We process all this in silence. I shake my head. “But there’s more. Eli’s in deeper than I expected. His debt wasn’t random, Semyon, but part of their plan. He owes money to Irish-connected interests, and in exchange, he’s been feeding them intel. Remember, he had firsthand access to the bakery.”
Shit.
I do not want to tell Anya any of this.
“He betrayed his own family?”
Matvei sighs. “Yeah. He probably thought he was just buying time, that he could outsmart them. But the Irish don’t play games. They used him.”
“And you have proof of all this?”
“Almost.” Matvei frowns, tension tightening his features. “I’m still cracking through the last firewall, but this is bad. They’ve orchestrated everything to fracture us from within.”
Cold silence settles between us. The Irish have played a long game.
“I’ll keep digging. But be ready. When all this comes to a head… it’s gonna get bloody.”
"Well, gents," Vadka says, pushing to his feet. “On that happy note, I promised my wife that I would do bedtime tonight, so I need to go.”
He pays his tab and leaves.
This is why I never wanted to get involved with a woman, have a family, fall in love. All I can think about is Anya’s safety. I’m distracted, my loyalty divided.
"That's an interesting development," I mutter. Rafail grunts. Rodion cracks his knuckles. Matvei stares at a tablet as if trying to decide his next move in a game.
My phone buzzes with a text. I immediately hide it so no one else can see.
I smile down at a picture of my beautiful wife wearing a blue gown that hugs her curves in all the right ways. When she turns around in the second pic, her back is completely bare. God. She can’t wear that in public.
I tap out a text and send it:
You can wear that in the bedroom, but I'll spank your ass if you wear that in public.
She sends back a blushing emoji, and I shake my head.
Then comes another picture, this one even worse than the first two. There’s a strip of red fabric across her breasts, the curve of her lower breasts exposed, and sheer fabric covers the rest. The dress comes all the way up her thighs.
“Somebody’s distracted,” Rodion says in that same teasing voice. “Your wife sending you nudes?”
“Say that again, and I’ll throw you across this bar,” I snap.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m just joking. Relax.”
“He’s not gonna relax if you keep talking about his wife being nude,” Rafail says, smacking Rodion on the side of his head. “Just like you wouldn’t if someone was talking about your wife the same way.”
Rodion shrugs. “It’s all in your expression. How else do you explain the way you’re looking right now? One second, you’re happy, practically grinning at the phone; the next, you look like you wanna whip it across the room.”
“Maybe she showed me pictures of dresses she wants to wear to the gala,” I snap at him. “So shut the fuck up.”
“Wow, she has melted the Ice King,” Rodion mutters. I growl at him, which makes Rafail’s lip twitch and Rodion blanch. He’s been on the receiving end of more than one good beating from me and knows he’s damn close.
“Open your mouth again,” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. “You fucking—”
“Boys, boys,” Rafail says. “Break it up. Rodion, apologize.” Rodion’s nostrils flare. He doesn’t like being made a spectacle of in front of everyone.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
“Semyon,” Rafail continues to chide us like we’re fucking high schoolers again, “you apologize for taking things too seriously.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. He was talking about my wife disrespectfully. Like I’d let him get away with that. I’d fucking knock his teeth in.”
Matvei whistles low. “Wow. You’re right, Rodion. Semyon really has changed, huh?”
“What? What the fuck are you guys talking about?”
“You have feelings for her,” Matvei says, looking at me with wide eyes, his jaw dropping. “You—Semyon, the original Ice King, incapable of feelings for anybody. We thought you were a psychopath.”
“Who says I’m not?” I shrug.
“It doesn’t matter,” Rafail says, looking back at me with curiosity in his features. “You should love your wife. It will strengthen your bond. It’s good for you,” he adds. “I love Polina.”
I sit up straighter, looking around the room.
Love is good for me? Do I love her?
“Oh god. I love her.”
The words feel strange but right. “What does it mean to love someone?” I ask, looking between them. “I wanna know. You guys tell me. What does it mean to love someone?”
“How can someone who’s so fucking brilliant not know this?” Rodion asks. “I actually know something he doesn’t. Dude, when you love someone, you’d do anything for them. You’d lay down your life for them, protect them. When you’re away from them, they take up every thought in your mind. You don’t feel like yourself again until you’re with them. And then when you are, you become your whole self again.”