Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
It’s freaking sad, and I can’t help but shed tears on her behalf.
When they’re saying their goodbyes, I move to the bed and slump down on the mattress.
Damn, things really suck right now.
A moment later, Aurora opens the bedroom door.
“My God,” I sniffle. “That was so romantic and sad. It makes Romeo and Juliet’s story look like a walk in the park.”
“Yeah.” Aurora slumps down beside me. “Do you think my dad–”
“He’ll kill both of you.” I shake my head hard because there’s no way her father will allow her to be with Misha. “He hates the bratva.”
She lets out a hopeless sigh. “You’re right.”
“I need comfort food after today. It’s been rough.” Standing up, I look at Aurora. “Let’s order something and go to the waterfall.”
We haven’t had much time together, but whenever we could, we explored St. Monarch’s gardens. We found a beautiful waterfall at the back of the property I plan on painting once I’m no longer in a world of pain from all the exercise.
“I just want to change into something warmer.” Aurora quickly grabs a jacket, then says, “Let’s go.”
When she opens the front door, she asks, “What are you in the mood for?”
I step into the hallway and catch myself in time from bumping into Nikolai.
His eyes snap to my face, and the next second I’m grabbed by the shoulder while concern tightens his features.
Oh, this is new.
His voice cuts through the air as he demands, “Why did you cry?”
I stare at him for a couple of seconds as the realization hits that the great Nikolai Vetrov is actually worried about me. Not able to stop myself from smiling, I answer, “I watched a sad story.” There’s a moment’s pause before I add, “Nice to know you care.”
As if touching me burns him, Nikolai rips his hand away from my shoulder, and with a shake of his head, he stalks toward his suite.
Grinning from ear to ear, I look at Aurora. “Am I wrong? He cares, right?”
She shuts the door to her suite and lets out a sigh. “One sad story at a time. There’s no way your father will let you date Nikolai.”
True. But my father doesn’t have to know.
Yeah, keep dreaming. Your father will kill you himself before he allows you to be in a relationship with a Vetrov.
Besides, just because Nikolai showed a glimmer of concern doesn’t mean shit.
“Ugh,” I huff as we walk toward the stairs. “For that man’s abs, I’ll leave my family.”
Aurora gives me a shocked look. “Really?”
I chuckle at her reaction. “Not really, but let me have my fantasy.”
Yeah, that’s all it will ever be. Just a far-fetched fantasy.
Refusing to let my problems get me down, I focus on the glorious weekend of rest and zero training I get to enjoy for the next two days.
Chapter 7
Nikolai
After flying to my family’s island off the coast of Finland, I walk toward my parents’ house to greet them.
The island is protected with state-of-the-art security, and the four houses are surrounded by woods. Besides my parents and grandparents, Inna, her husband, and their children also live here. My house is right on the edge of the woods and the farthest from the main house.
Whoever tries to attack the island is on a suicide mission. The perimeters have never been breached.
I only make it to the steps before I hear Grandma yell, “Winter, Nikolai is home!”
A smile spreads over my face, and stepping through the front door, it’s to see my mother come flying down the stairs.
Happiness shines from her as she captures me in a hug. “Ahh, my baby. I’ve missed you.”
I press a kiss to her flaming red hair. “I missed you too.”
Christ, I’ve traveled the world, but there’s no place like home. It’s the only place I can let my guard down.
“Is Nikolai here?” my father calls from upstairs.
“Yes, get your ass down here,” Mom shouts. Her eyes flit over every inch of my body before she smiles up at me. “Are you only here for the weekend?”
I nod and glance at the stairs as my father comes down them. Even though my mother is Irish with fair skin, red hair, and green eyes, I’m the spitting image of my father. Inna got Mom’s eyes.
I take my father’s hand, and as we shake, I give him a hug. “St. Monarch’s will drive me insane. I needed some time with my family,” I say before Grandma comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
I hug the woman who helped raise me, then ask, “Where’s Grandpa?”
“He’s doing his rounds with the guards,” Grandma answers.
I let out a chuckle. “He’ll never stop working.”
“You’re in time for dinner,” Mom says as she hooks her arm through mine.
Even though my parents are ruthless criminals, I’ve never known a day where my sister and I weren’t unconditionally loved.