Ghost Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #3)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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He pulls out of me and zips himself back up before readjusting my chemise. His come drips down my thigh and he stands me up, wrapping something around me. A silk robe, I realize.

He takes my hand in his, warm and strong and solid.

“Come with me.”

And I do.

I have never been to this part of the house.

The basement.

It is cold and vacant. Stone walls and a simple cement floor. Alexei’s oxfords echo off the cavernous walls while my bare feet absorb the cold of every step beside him.

His arm is wrapped around me in a protective manner. Warming me and keeping me close by his side. We stop at another steel door. He taps on it and turns to me.

I cock my head to the side and examine him. He looks odd. A strange mixture of excitement, pride, and nerves on his face.

“I don’t want you to be afraid, Solnyshko,” he tells me. “Remember, I am here. And I will destroy anyone who ever tries to hurt you. That means in your past as well.”

His words make me nervous, and I cling to his hand. But he still doesn’t move. His other hand comes up and untangles my hair, opening my face to him.

“I want you to know the level of my devotion to you,” he states. “I don’t ever want you to question it. The things I have and will continue to do to protect you. To avenge you. They are dark things. But that darkness is my burden to carry, and it always will be.”

His voice is so impassioned. So filled with strength that there is no question in my mind he means what he says.

“Show me,” I tell him.

He reaches for the door, his grip on me firm. Anchoring me to his body as he leads me inside. Until I freeze at the sight before me.

I’m in shock, I think.

But even after I blink several times, the image in my eyes does not change.

It is Dmitri.

Bound, gagged, and naked on a wooden sawhorse. There is a man behind him. A big man. Huge. His shirt is off, and all he wears is a pair of leather pants. But the room reeks of sex and sweat, and it is obvious what has taken place in here already.

“Talia,” Alexei’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “This is Boris. He will be seeing to Dmitri during his stay here.”

His words from the corridor outside make sense to me with shocking clarity. He is avenging me. He is going to make Dmitri suffer for what he did to me.

I wait for my mind to tell me that this is wrong. Or sick. Or that I shouldn’t feel any enjoyment when I look at Dmitri, knowing what awaits him.

But none of those things happen.

I do feel enjoyment. I feel some sense of justice. The scales finally being tipped back in my favor if only a little.

He is the reason I have no trust. No hope. He is the reason I am dirty and ashamed. Touched by men who had no right to. The reason I struggle to look in the mirror most days. He handed me to Arman on a silver platter and made me wish I was dead every day.

So it should not surprise me when my lips tilt into a smile, but it does surprise Alexei. And relieves him.

“Go,” he tells me. “Say whatever you would like to say to him. This is the last time you will ever see his face, Solnyshko.”

I move to step away, and Alexei hesitates to let me go. And it is only then that I realize he is struggling with this too, in his own way. Knowing that Dmitri has had me before. There is a possessive gleam in his eyes as they move over my body. My body that is filled with his come and his child inside of me, which he does not yet know. My skin, that smells of him. And my face, which no doubt does little to hide my swollen lips from his kisses or tangled hair from our romp.

He has marked me as his own. As though to rub it in Dmitri’s face.

As if he would ever care.

He sold me.

Ruined me.

And Alexei is putting me back together. Piece by piece.

I stretch up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. And then I give him the thing that he needs.

“Come with me,” I tell him. “I need you with me.”

My words set his worries free, and he takes charge, leading me in front of Dmitri so that I can meet his eyes. His cold, lifeless eyes.

They were never that way before. That is how he tricked me. He was so good at making me believe.

But not now. The horror of his experience is only just beginning, and it is written on his face for me to see. I savor that. I soak it all in, and I smile right at him.


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