Devious Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #3) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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He was quick to toss out that Ana was my soon-to-be sister-in-law.

Only six months ago, he would have referred to her as his best friend.

They’ve always been close, but now it appears as if he thinks everyone is his enemy.

With my exchange with Yev still in the forefront of my mind, I ask, “How did you go with my request?”

The annoyance on Natalya’s face is exchanged for relief. “Good. Tyler was more than happy to put away any foreign caps he finds.”

Aware nothing comes without a penalty, I ask, “What will it cost me?”

Nat arches a manicured brow. “You, nothing. Me…” She leaves her question open for me to interpret how I see fit.

It adds to the guilt I can’t let go of, no matter how many times my heart assures me I wasn’t in the wrong. I had no clue the bottle caps I tossed out with the rubbish were from Feo’s private collection. He had been importing beers from across the globe for the twelve months prior to his death, and the ones spread across the coffee table were only a handful of caps away from being resined on top of the chunky piece of wood he carved into a tabletop during a woodwork class at his university.

The keys I hung on the rack near the door could be returned to the kitchen cabinet, and his shoes stuffed back under his bed, but the bottle caps became needles in a haystack the instant the garbage was collected that fateful morning one week ago.

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do to help me fix my mistake. I’ll start importing beer. I’m not a fan of malty drinks, but I don’t have to drink it to collect the caps.”

Nat shuts up my ramblings by placing her hand on mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Believe me, it isn’t an injustice. Have you seen the guy running Tappers?” She physically drools, spit bubbles and all.

I try to downplay the relief her offer fills me with. “You’re disturbing.”

She flutters her lashes at me, her smile mammoth. “Don’t be jealous.” Once the last returned garment has been placed back onto the sales floor, she says, “Tyler said he’ll have a good collection for you to pick up tonight.”

“Already?” When she nods, I twist my lips. “Should I wait until I have them all or give them to Yev in dribs and drabs?”

Her brow gets lost in her hairline. “Do you wait for the entire collection of designer babies to be finalized before you start showcasing the latest piece? Or do you jump the gun before everyone else?”

“You jump the gun. Fashion waits for no one.”

Her girly laugh rumbles through me. “Exactly. So why don’t we go grab them before Tyler loses them?” When I agree to her suggestion with a nod, she fetches her purse from the break room behind the changing room, then meets me by the door. “Can I ask one teeny tiny little favor?”

I hate being asked favors. The odds rarely swing in my favor.

This one, however, seems to tilt the needle toward the positive. “Will you hold off telling Vasily what you’re doing to ease Yev’s guilt until after you’ve done it?”

A sigh whistles through my teeth. “I’m collecting beer caps for a friend. I’m not sleeping with him.”

My heartbeats surge from a slow trudge to a gallop when she murmurs, “So you told Vas about that moment of weakness when you kissed Yev before you attempted to give him a handy over his pants?”

I clamp my hand over her mouth before straying my eyes up and down the street. It is empty, but my panic remains high. Vasily knows everything about everyone. You’d swear he has eyes on every Kronstadt local.

Once I’m confident we’re alone, I let Nat become a mouth breather again. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Because you know Vas would overreact?” When I nod, finally picking the honest route, she smiles a ghost-like grin. “Then please take my advice and leave this off the table for now. Once Vas realizes you’re not a hussy who throws her pussy at every deliriously delicious half-Mexican in the vicinity, he might warm to the idea of you two being friends.” I realize I’m not the best at hiding my feelings from people I care about when she rubs my arm while muttering, “We both know you could use more of them.”

I roll my eyes to ensure no wetness pricks in them, then deflect her attention with a maturity unbecoming of a woman nearing her thirties. “Yev’s heritage isn’t known.”

“Um… yeah, it is. You’ve felt his dick, much less drooled about its outline when he showed up here in fitted gray sweatpants. That imprint was the reason you locked me in the storage room before taking his measurements with your tongue.”


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