Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
One peek at my face, and she stumbles back.
“Don’t touch me.” I tower over her, forcing her back another step while keeping a foot of space between us. “Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking talk to me unless it’s important. And just to be clear, your opinions about our sexiness aren’t important.”
A sound draws my eyes to the bar. Monty and Leo have their backs to me, but given how their shoulders shake, they find my speech amusing.
Sirena, on the other hand, sucks in a breath as a flush rises from her low-cut shirt and blotches her heavy chest.
“Fuck you.” Her words spit like venom.
Turning on her heel, she struts out the door amid more whistles and cat calls.
“Damn, bro.” Leo tips an eyebrow at me. “Fucking harsh.”
Before I can respond, the owner appears, a man in his late forties with a stout build and a face weathered by years of hard work.
“Mr. Novak, it’s a pleasure to have you in my establishment.” He extends a hand.
“Pilip.” Monty shakes it, sliding him a polite smile.
“What brings you in tonight?” Pilip turns to Leo and me, recognition dawning in his eyes. “Oh! You’re the brother and nephew I saw all over the news.”
I press my lips together, my gaze hard.
“We’d like a tour of the distillery.” Monty pockets his phone.
“Of course, of course. Right this way.”
Would the man be so eager if he knew Monty was interested in buying it?
Monty makes formal introductions, giving him our names. Then we follow him into the back and through a network of gleaming stainless-steel stills, polished pipes, and rows of filtration tanks.
The scents of sweet corn, earthy wheat, and the faintest hint of rye envelop me in a sensory experience that transports me back to the cellar in Hoss.
Pilip talks animatedly, explaining the process and the history of the place, but my thoughts are elsewhere.
I see the future so clearly. A vision of transformation. I would keep the state-of-the-art equipment. But everything else would go.
My vision comes together in my mind. With passion and hard work—and Monty’s capital investment—my ideas can become a reality.
As we finish the tour, Pilip looks at us expectantly. “Do you have any questions?”
Monty glances at me, giving me the floor.
I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision. “We’d like to discuss a potential purchase.”
“Oh…uh…” Pilip smiles. “It’s not for sale.”
Monty throws out a number that sends the man into a choking fit.
If I hadn’t seen Monty’s car collection, I would’ve been choking, too.
“Let’s sit down and go over the details.” Monty gestures toward the private room in the back.
Leo catches my gaze, wordlessly asking if I’m sure about this.
Monty hasn’t given me his offer as my investor. Right now, this is just a conversation. A potential purchase. Nothing is set in stone. I won’t sign or agree to anything until I discuss it with Leo and Frankie.
Nodding, I let Leo see the hunger in my eyes. The hunger for a dream I never thought was possible.
As Monty follows Pilip toward the back, Leo steps into my space and wraps his arms around me.
“I’m happy for you.” He shifts, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m going to leave you to it and go see our girl.”
“Good.” I straighten. “I won’t make any decisions without you.”
“This is your dream, fuckwit.” He lightly slaps my cheek. “You already have my support.”
With a feral grin, he turns and stalks away.
Pulse racing, I find Monty and Pilip sitting at a table in a nearby room.
Within minutes, Monty dives into negotiations and financials, his expertise shining through. I focus on my vision, ensuring that every detail aligns with the story I want to tell.
I still don’t trust that Monty has my best interests in mind. But there’s one thing I know for sure.
With or without him, this is happening. Nothing will stand in my way.
25
Leonid
—
The cool night air kisses my skin as I stroll through the seaport, the stars emerging one by one, illuminating the dark Alaskan sky.
It’s been a day of ups and downs, a rollercoaster of power struggles and transitions—clashing with Monty, operating a yacht, driving a car, fending off women, touring a distillery, and watching Kody pursue his dream.
But at the end of the day, it all circles back to Frankie. She’s our binding force. The spark that freed us from Hoss. The reason we strive to be more than our scars.
I pick up my pace.
Monty’s yacht looms ahead, bigger and grander than all the others in the quiet harbor. Its sleek lines and multiple decks glisten in the moonlight, guarded by two burly men in dark suits.
Their eyes track my approach. I give them a nod as I board, adjusting to the sway beneath my feet.
I find her on the bridge deck, sitting in the shadow of the overhang with a tall, attractive man.