Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Oh. That makes sense. Except… it’s a large family, so…”
“Rafail figured that a lot of people were often not home.” As his brothers have gotten older and married, started families of their own, and his sister Yana relocated to South Africa with her husband, the number of people at the Kopolov compound at any given moment was smaller than it used to be.
She looks up at me, her eyes luminous, her gaze just enough unfocused to make me look away. I have to protect her right now.
“What happens next, Vadka?” she asks quietly.
I swallow and hold my head up high. “Next, I keep you and my boy safe.”
Chapter 7
RUTHIE
“I literally feel like I’m on a TV show. This is fucking awesome,” I tell him.
He gives me a mock serious look, but even mocking, Vadka all stern makes my heart beat faster. “It is not awesome. We are on the run from people who want to kill you.”
“Wait, I thought they wanted to kill you? Why do they give two shits about me?”
“They know that killing you is the best way to get to me, so that’s their plan.”
I give him a sidelong look and don’t reply because I need a minute. He just freely admitted that it would hurt him to lose me. Of course it would—because I’m like his sister, right?
But I’m not his sister. And he’s not my brother.
We had a relationship that was different when my sister was here. But she isn’t anymore.
No. I can’t think like that.
“You’re going to have to lock your phone in a safe box.” And then he turns to look at me, as serious as I’ve ever seen him.
I stand up straighter.
“What?” I kind of snap, trying to protect myself. It doesn’t work.
“You have to follow the rules here. No fucking around. If Rafail tells you to hide, you hide. If he tells you to run, you run. If he tells you to put on a clown wig and go into Central Square and pretend you’re entertaining a group of kids at a birthday party, you do it. Got it?”
“Or what?” I ask. “Put on a clown wig? Really? Remember that I’m not in the Bratva. Remember that I’m not your wife, Vadka.” My voice wobbles. “Remember that I’m not obedient to Rafail.”
I’m not someone who hands over my autonomy so easily. Hell, I gave up my virginity easier than that.
He takes a step closer. Our toes touch. He anchors his hands on his hips and does something that makes my brain short-circuit—he reaches for my chin and holds my gaze with his.
I can’t look away, not now, not for anything. I’m mesmerized, engulfed in his gaze, unable to do anything but stare back.
“I lost my wife,” he says, and I don’t know how he keeps his voice steady because I don’t even trust myself to speak right now. He pauses, then says softly, “Do you really need to let your stubbornness threaten us losing each other now?”
I expected him to lecture. I expected him to get all stern and bossy, which is how he normally is—but this plea undoes me in a way that sternness wouldn’t.
I shake my head, and when I blink, hot, fat tears roll down my cheeks.
“No, of course not.”
“Do it for Luka,” he says quietly, and I nod. But I’m not sure what I’m doing for Luka or what I’m agreeing to.
“So I need to know, Ruthie… Are you going to behave, or are we going to have a problem here?”
My heart. Goddammit, I think I might be ovulating because I am suddenly, instantly turned on.
I scoff. “Whatever. I’m not a good girl, Vadka. Not like Mariah was.” She played by the rules.
He’s leaning in too close. He smells too good. His eyes flash with something I don’t understand, and the corner of his lips quirks.
“Don’t I know it.”
Something hangs in the air between us—something neither of us wants to name.
And then he pulls away, and I turn my head.
The worst possible solution to losing my sister is flirting with a man who doesn’t want me, who I can’t have.
What’s left of my broken heart would be shattered.
I can’t allow that to happen.
“Be a good girl, Ruthie, just this once,” he says softly and hooks his pinky finger with mine.
I don’t know if this is supposed to feel big-brotherly, but it absolutely doesn’t.
“You say that to all the girls, don’t you,” I whisper, not trusting my voice.
Oh my god.
I squirm uncomfortably and nod.
“Tell me, Ruthie,” he says, in that same tone he uses when Luka refuses to go to bed, the tone that brooks no argument. “Tell me you’ll be a good girl this time.”
I nod and swallow hard.
“Fine. I’ll behave.” But I tack on at the end, “For now. If I give Rafail shit, will it reflect poorly on you? Are they going to expect you to… keep me in line, or whatever?”