Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Niamh let out a scream, and quickly put her hand on top of his. “Don’t.”
“Having fun?” I asked.
They both turned to look at me.
“Yeah, Dad, we’re having fun making popcorn to watch a movie full of blood and guts. You want to join?” Ivan asked.
“Can you and I have a word?” I asked, not entertained at all.
The smile on Niamh’s face dropped. “Here, I can take this.”
Ivan sighed. “It looks like I’ve got to go and get my ass kicked.”
Niamh chuckled and I walked with Ivan away from the kitchen, going into the dining room. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I was making popcorn. What was hard to see about that?” Ivan asked.
“No, what are you doing with my wife?”
Ivan stared at me for several seconds. “In case you didn’t know, I was making friends with your wife. I’m helping you out, seeing as I might have also caused you a little trouble?”
“What?”
He rubbed at his temple and came toward me. “Who sent you to Pickle Quest?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Exactly. Who told you what to do?”
“Damn it, Ivan, what is your point?”
“My point is this. I told you what to do because you may not see it now, but you and Niamh could be good together. That is up to you to do with as you will, but let me warn you of this.” Ivan stopped and I hated fucking waiting. There was no rush with Ivan. “When all of this is over, I’ve told her she has a choice. She can either stay married to you, join the Volkov, or she can leave. Be free of you, and live her life without any consequences.”
“What the ever-loving fuck?” I asked.
“I don’t need the Byrne riches, Peter, or the wealth. I don’t fucking want it. This was never about getting property or money. I’ve got all I need, I’m not fucking greedy. That is what removes people from power. I’m not a fucking idiot and none of this shit has gone to my head.”
“Then if that is not what you want, why go for Niamh? Why go for Byrne?”
“Because I don’t like him. I don’t like what he represents, and I owed Niamh a debt. Making sure she can live her life, free, and away from all this shit is the least I can do.”
And with that, Ivan turned on his heel and left.
He’d given my wife an out. I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do with that.
I heard Niamh’s giggles from the kitchen, but I wasn’t in the mood to keep hearing them.
Chapter Seventeen
Niamh
When Ivan arrived at lunchtime, I never for a second thought I was going to have the best day of my life. Yet, hanging out with Ivan, making popcorn with him, watching a couple of movies, ordering pizza, had been so much fun.
Peter had stuck around until the popcorn, and then he’d left. It was nearly nine at night and he still hadn’t returned. I was getting tired, and I’d already moved some of my stuff into Peter’s room so Ivan could take the spare bedroom.
I said good night to Ivan and made my way into Peter’s room. The moment I stepped inside, I could smell him. Even though the room didn’t have any personal touches, I knew Peter’s smell. It had become a comfort to me in Pickle Quest.
I was afraid to touch anything, so I grabbed my pajamas and made my way into the bathroom. I was tired, but I needed to take a shower.
I removed the clip from my hair, and brushed my teeth before stripping out of my clothes and stepping beneath the hot spray of water. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live my own life, free of worry. Free of the fear of my father. Even as I got older, I never lost that fear of him arriving unannounced. Even now, I couldn’t help but feel that small smidge of fear that threatened to curl up inside me and spill right back out. What if my father beats Ivan?
I knew how cunning and manipulative my father was. Did Ivan know what he was doing? I had no doubt he did, but I was so used to my father being at the top of the food chain, it was hard to imagine anyone else.
After the shower, I stepped out, wrapped myself in a towel, and quickly dried off. The bruises had started to fade from the beating my father had given me. Ivan had wanted them to be gone from my face for the wedding, which they had been.
Once my body was dry, I changed, ran a brush through my hair, and then grabbed the towel to dry it again so it wouldn’t dampen my pillow.
Even though Peter wasn’t home, I was nervous about going into that bedroom. This was Peter’s bed. I’d shared his bed with him plenty of times. More than a few. I’d pretty much lived with him in Pickle Quest, and now I didn’t know what to do. I had an out. When all of this was over, I could leave for good.