Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I refuse to treat her like everyone else does. How could I when Nat admitted she fell for me because I did the opposite?
Polina Kotova in love. Fuck. What are the odds she’d fall in love at all, let alone with a man as underserving as me?
I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep her. I’ll even let her smile sweetly at her fiancé. It isn’t a hard feat when the quickest scrub of my jaw reprimes my veins with the endorphins that surged through them when she slipped my hand between her legs while her fiancé was only steps away from us.
I’d never been so hard when one swipe of my thumb over the crest of her pussy had her panties dampening from my meekest touch. My boxers were drenched with pre-cum when I slipped my finger inside her, and I’m hard again now, recalling how quickly I made her unravel.
My focus shifts back to the voice that hasn’t stopped jabbering in my ear the past four hours when he shouts, “I’m in, and fuck me, the crap on here is extensive.”
“Anything useful?” The curiosity in my tone can’t be missed.
Kliment clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I won’t know for a couple of hours, but you’ve got a prime spot in his search history.”
During a quick bathroom break before joining the festivities in the main hall, I plugged the device Kliment mentioned earlier this week into a computer in Leon’s office. Since Kliment’s service is shitty, it would take hours to download all the files, so he suggested I join the party before returning later to remove the device.
Now is later.
I nudge my head to Micah, my plus one, silently commanding that he watch Polina until I get back. When he gives me the all clear to leave, I head for the bathroom located across from Leon’s office while querying Kliment’s comment. “Me or Feo?”
Lord Duckface hasn’t worked out that I’m not my brother yet, so you can picture my surprise when Kliment replies, “You.” My brisk pace slows a smidge when he mutters, “I didn’t know you were Mexican.”
“I’m not. My father is.” After nodding a greeting to a man standing guard at the end of the hallway, I pretend to enter the bathroom before spinning back around and bolting for the partially cracked-open door. I make it inside with barely a second to spare. He doesn’t spin back around until the waft of my race hits his fat neck. “He fled back to Mexico when he discovered he had knocked up my mother. That’s the last time anyone saw him.”
“Ah…” Kliment mutters, his tone groggy. “That’s not what I’m seeing.”
When I reach the computer on a big, bulky desk, Kliment brings up a birth certificate. It matches the date and time I was born, but the country is muddled up. It states that I was born in Mexico.
“It wasn’t your father who fled, Yev. It was your mother.” I couldn’t deny his accusation even if I wanted to. The video footage he slots in front of the birth certificate in my name leaves no doubts to his claim. My mother barely aged between the day she smuggled me over a Russian border and the day she dumped me at a boys’ home.
“You were a cute kid,” Kliment mutters when he zooms in on me tucked under my mother’s winter jacket. I’d be only a couple weeks old, if that. “What happened?”
Although confused as fuck, I have far more pressing matters to deal with than my mother’s constant lies. “Have you found anything on Polina’s dad?”
“Still a fucking mystery,” Kliment answers as the files on the screen disappear for a government agency login box.
I’m impressed with how fast he hacks into their server, but that’s as far as my awe goes when not a single search locates a Brecken Fleming.
“What about the dates Polina forwarded you earlier this week? Could you scan the footage and compare faces with the photograph she gave you?”
“The photo is dated, but it could work.” He punishes his keyboard for a couple of minutes before bringing up the first lot of footage. It shows Polina, Hannah, and her newborn daughter in the visitors’ area of the local airport, waiting for Brecken.
“Hold up, go back,” I request when the footage glitches for a second. “Do you see that?”
“I thought it was my dish searching for a new satellite.” Kliment plays the reel over and over again until there’s no doubt in either of our minds that the glitch occurs at the same section of footage each time. “The timeline is different.”
A cuss word spills from my lips when he jumps between screens. Only a couple of seconds are missing, but it could be imperative to our case. “Can you get that footage back?”