Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Fuck, has the little firecracker snuck away?
26
LEV
I make my excuses and leave my uncle and cousin to their drinks and go in search of Brooke.
I’m still irritated by Vadim showing his face. Even more so now that I have to look for Brooke.
So when I finally find her and see she is talking to Vlad, a wannabe gangster and low-life drug dealer, my irritation peaks and almost blows my head off my shoulders. Vlad has her cornered, has invaded her personal space, and is looking at her like he’s already undressed her with his eyes and is ready to feast on her beautiful body.
A flash of possessiveness burns through me.
Brooke looks uncomfortable but isn’t making any attempt to move.
Vlad brushes his fingers down her bare arm, and I see red.
Hell. Fucking. No.
Venom pours into my veins as I cross the room.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl at Vlad.
Vlad swings around, and Brooke steps away from him.
Vlad gives me a smug smile. “Lev, how lovely to see you. Have you met Brooke?”
The way he looks at her makes me want to pull his eyes out with a pitchfork.
“You know she came here with me,” I say through gritted teeth.
“She did? I didn’t realize.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “My mistake.”
I lean in. “And your last mistake. You get that close to her again, and I’ll chop your goddamn hands off and feed them to my dogs, do you fucking understand?”
Vlad is not smart enough to realize he should be afraid of me. It’s just one of the many reasons why he’ll never live a long life. He thinks he is better than he is. Too self-assured because of his ego, not his brains.
“Like I said, my mistake,” he says in a low, dangerous voice, his thin lips twitching with barely contained resentment. People are watching, and this is humiliating for him. I can see the hatred in his eyes.
“You don’t belong here,” I seethe. “Now get the fuck out.”
It gets quieter around us as more eyes and ears tune into what’s happening.
His jaw ticks. “I was invited.”
I doubt it.
“Well, I’m uninviting you. Mudaks like you aren’t welcome around me and my family.”
He says nothing. Just burns with hatred as people look on. But I burn brighter and hotter, and I can out-stare this motherfucker until the fucking cows come home.
Flashing his teeth, he finally concedes he’s worn out his welcome. He gives me a look that tells me I will regret this. I already do because I just lost the last five minutes of my life dealing with him.
I take Brooke by the arm and lead her toward the opposite exit to him.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she protests.
“Getting you away from him so I don’t have to shoot him in the middle of my uncle’s goddamn birthday party for disrespecting me and putting his paws all over you.”
“Stop manhandling me, you brute,” she cries, trying to yank her arm away from me. But my grip is too tight, and she has no choice but to keep walking. “Why are you angry at me?”
“Vlad is a wannabe, Brooke. The kind of man who sits at the feet of important men, waiting for scraps of attention and recognition. But he will never get it because he lacks finesse and power and honor. Hell, the mudak wouldn’t know honor if it hit him in the face. He’s a joke. A try hard. A pizda. And that in there wasn’t an innocent conversation, that was a deliberate attempt to get a reaction out of me.”
“Which clearly worked,” she snaps.
I guide us outside and hustle her toward the car where Igor is waiting. “Get in.”
But she folds her arms and fixes me with a set of blazing eyes that tell me she isn’t doing anything until she says what she wants to say. “Not until you tell me why you are so angry at me.”
Fine. She wants an argument; I’ll fucking give her one.
“You came here with me as my date. And you’re in there letting that mudak put his hands all over you.”
“He had me cornered. I was trying to get away.”
“Not hard enough.”
“You’re being a jerk, do you know that?”
Yeah, I know that. But seeing her with Vlad has broken something inside me.
“Add that to the list of names you already have for me. Asshole. Monster. At least you’re learning.”
“You forgot kidnapper.”
“You’re walking on thin ice,” I warn her.
“Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you. Now get in the goddamn car.”
She gets into the car, and it’s a frosty ride home. But as soon as we step inside the mansion, the argument roars to life again.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” she yells, storming up the stairs.
I follow her, bounding up the staircase with thunderous agitation.
“No, I’m the fucking pakhan, and no one disrespects me, do you understand?”