Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I gasp. “What? After last night?”
“Ah, but Lia, remember…”
The cogs in my head turn. “Nikolai doesn’t know you caught his guy. As far as he knows, you think somebody’s out to get you because of the attack, but you don’t know it’s him.”
“Exactly,” he says, sounding proud, which makes my smile feel like it glows.
“Won’t he get suspicious when his…” It sounds so surreal to say stuff like this. “… his undercover agent stops answering his calls?”
“Maybe. That’s his problem. I’m curious to see how he plays this. What are you doing?”
“Painting… and speaking with Mila.”
“Ah, Mila,” Dimitri says, his tone making it clear he sees her as a problem and not much else.
“Yeah…”
“You know I don’t want her. I only want you.”
Warm shivers dance over me, teasing and captivating me. “It’s not about that. It’s about her brother.”
“I’m not happy about any of this,” Dimitri says, his voice dark. “But let’s say I called up ten of my best soldiers to kidnap the kid. What then? Do you think Nikolai will accept that? Let’s say he sends everything he has. Will we win? Maybe. I want to think so, but when bullets start flying, nothing is certain.” His voice gets angrier. I know part of it is wishing he could do more. “If we lose, Vegas is fucked.”
“Would it be worse than it already is?”
His grim laugh tells me everything I need to know, but he hammers the point home anyway. “It would be ten times worse. There are scumbags in this city who only stay on their best behavior because of us. Nikolai would let them loose.”
“Maybe there’s a way to do both,” I say, “but…”
“Go on,” he says. “A Bratva queen should speak her mind.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” I reply, twirling the phone’s cord around my finger. I was born too late to play with a phone cord like this during any other phone call. “That’s not funny. I’m not a queen.”
“Yes, you are.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling like a fool. “I guess we’ll agree to disagree.”
“I’m interested to hear your opinion,” he says.
“Well, it’s just evil both ways. Either Nikolai continues to bully his son, or you go against him, start a war, and more people get hurt.”
“That’s the life,” Dimitri says. “That’s why it’s easier to be a cruel, sadistic person. It makes choices far easier.”
“But you’re not like the other Bratva. No tattoos… no cruelty.”
“I can be cruel when necessary,” he says fiercely.
“To the right people—the people who deserve it.”
“And for the right reasons. Sure. That’s how I sleep at night.”
“I think you slept quite well, actually,” I retort.
I can hear the smirk in his voice, that confident cut to his firm jawline. “Until you woke me up…”
“What? You woke me up.” After a pause, guilt hits me. We shouldn’t be joking around and making light right now. “Mila is going nuts. I know neither of us really knows each other or her…” Another pause as I think about how odd that statement is. It’s not like Dimitri and I have been speaking for a long time. “But she doesn’t deserve this. Her brother doesn’t deserve it.”
“Most people don’t deserve the terrible things that happen to them,” Dimitri says. “All I can do is try to limit the damage.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if you can do more?” I raise my voice, not even meaning to. I have this impulse to help Dimitri be the best he can possibly be. “What if you can beat Nikolai?”
“A war—”
“It doesn’t have to be a war. It can be a trap. Let him see us together. Let him—”
“Enough,” he says fiercely. “You just admitted it could make things worse. Now you want to put yourself at risk.”
“If I’m going to be a part of this life, I want to make a positive change.”
“You are a part of this life,” he says, a warm note of disbelief in his voice, which sends shivers dancing over my body. “I never thought somebody could change me so much so quickly, but that doesn’t mean you understand it.”
He hangs up. I pull my hand back, ready to slam the phone into the receiver. Considering it probably costs more than most houses, that’s not a good idea. I storm out of the room and back to the library.
Mila leaps to her feet when she sees me. “Whoa! What’s up? What happened?”
“I just…” Suddenly, the library feels like it’s closing in around me. “Look at all this!” I kick up a bunch of newspapers, then go to the easel and throw it to the floor. “Look at me. I should be able to handle myself, and now I have to beg to make something happen. I’m supposed to…”
I sit down, shuddering, wondering if I’m about to have a panic attack. I’ve only had a few in my life, but it’s like the old me has just collapsed into the new me. Not that long ago, I was stubbornly alone, listening to podcasts to help me become even more independently capable. Now, it’s like I want to be in this cage.