Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
He humps me like a dog in heat, sucking my earlobe into his mouth before biting down on the fleshy skin.
The pain associated with his bite announces he’s drawn blood, not to mention the distinct scent in the air.
“Get the fuck off me.”
I ram my elbow into his ribs a second before my wrist is grabbed, and I’m yanked away from him.
My rescuer isn’t who I’m anticipating.
Matvei is still in the booth, shooting daggers at Tyler, who shouts at one of his regulars, “What the fuck, Clive? What have I told you about harassing my customers!” I hiss when he inspects my ear. I realize I didn’t imagine the sting of his bite when Tyler’s eyes shoot back to Clive and he asks, “Did you fucking bite her?”
The crowd is already shocked into silence, but they quieten more when Matvei leaves the booth and heads our way. His walk is as arrogant as ever, and it shows who the alpha of the room is.
It isn’t Tyler or the man who thinks assaulting women on a Friday night is fun.
The title solely belongs to Matvei.
Matvei’s eyes shoot down to the section of my arm that Tyler grabbed to pull me away from my attacker. Then it dawns on me why Tyler’s inspection of my injury only occurred with one hand.
His hand is still circling my arm.
As my throat works through a dry swallow, I pull myself out of Tyler’s hold and take a step away from him.
After surveying the scene like he didn’t have a front-row seat to the festivities, Matvei mutters sternly, “Take her home.”
Jax looks at Tyler, then back to Matvei, before he fans his hand across his rapidly rising chest. “Me? You want me to take her home?”
Matvei answers his question by tossing a set of keys into his chest, his focus unmoving from Tyler.
Mindful Tyler doesn’t deserve the penalty of his foolish patron, I fold my arms over my chest before shaking my head. “No.” Jax exhales sharply when I disclose, “Jax isn’t taking me home.” Tyler appears more understanding than disappointed when I reject his earlier request. “And no, I can’t give you my number.” Matvei’s superiority is still suffocating when I return my focus to him, but his fury is nowhere near as notable. “If you want me to leave, you’ll have to take me home yourself.”
“Nat—”
I cut him off. “Did anything I say sound like a negotiation?”
His lips twitch, but he’s the only one game to smile. Several patrons are too scared to breathe for the fear they’ll miss something magical. That’s how captivating the tension is.
“What will it be, Matvei?” I realize his name isn’t common knowledge when the crowd hisses upon hearing it. It doubles their hushed murmurs and has them looking at him as more of a myth than a person. “Revenge or me?”
The tension is so white-hot a bead of sweat rolls down my back while waiting for Matvei’s reply.
Mercifully, the chemistry is potent enough to see me come out on top.
"Let’s go.”
After nudging his head to the door, Matvei spins on his heels and leaves, fully expecting me to follow.
I do, but only after warning Tyler to go into hiding.
“What?” His tone is as surprised as his facial expression when I offered myself to Matvei in remittance for his revenge.
“If you want to live, hide.”
“I’ll get him up to speed,” Jax promises, cozying up to Tyler’s side. “Just go before he comes back here and ends us all. I’ve heard stories about Maksim’s younger brother, but this is the first time I’ve believed they were true.”
The fret in his tone slackens my pace, but it’s two seconds too late. I’m already outside and face-to-face with a fuming mad Russian gangster.
12
NATALYA
“Get in the car, Natalya,” Matvei demands, stealing my focus from Maksim Ivanov. He is one of Russia’s most well-known gangsters, even though his voice only has part of the accent required for the title.
Family or not, Matvei looks prepared to bury Maksim in a shallow ditch when he stops me from leaving by seizing my elbow. His hold isn’t firm, but it revives my faith in his reputation. He doesn’t need to grip a woman for dear life to secure her interest. He merely needs to toss her an ounce of attention.
He is as attractive as his brother, but I wouldn’t say he trumps him in looks.
“How were you hiding under my nose all this time?” Maksim asks, smiling when something whizzes past his head fast enough to whip up a dark curl usually tucked behind his ear.
It dawns on me that it was a bullet when Matvei snarls, “The next one will have me sending our mother a condolence card.”
“You’ve always been hotheaded, Brother.” Maksim lets go of my arm before he shifts on his feet to face Matvei. “But this is the first time I’ve seen you so riled up over a woman.” After smiling an identical smirk to the one Matvei does when stirring, he says, “I hope she’s worth it.”