Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
What would Alek do?
He’d give them attitude.
Climbing to my feet, I suck in a deep breath of air and walk to the door. My insides begin to tremble with fear, but knowing I won’t last long if Alek gets sick and dies, I slam my left hand against the door. “Hey! Open the door.”
When I hear footsteps, I quickly step back and pray to God I’m not making a huge mistake.
Dario shoves the door open. “What the fuck do you want?”
It takes more strength than I have to say, “A first aid kit so I can take care of my boyfriend.” While I’m being brave, I add, “And some food. We haven’t eaten in a day.”
His eyebrow lifts, then he sneers, “Anything else, principessa.”
Nervously, I gulp. “No.”
The door is yanked shut and locked again. Feeling a hollow sense of hopelessness, I walk back to Alek and sit down beside him. I’m wearing a leather jacket and a silk blouse. Neither can be used to clean Alek’s wounds.
I eye his shirt for a moment and almost jump out of my skin when the door suddenly swings open. A toiletry bag is thrown at me before the door is locked again.
I scramble closer and unzipping the bag, a smile spreads over my face when I see the antiseptic lotion and bandages.
At least it’s something.
Not wanting to waste the meager supplies we have, I can’t clean Alek’s wounds and instead just smear the antiseptic lotion over the drying blood before I bandage his forearm and right hand as best I can.
Alek begins to stir, and as I tuck the corner of the bandage in so it will stay in place, his eyes open and focus on me.
He stares at me for a few seconds, then asks, “What are you doing?”
When he starts to push his body into a sitting position, I grab hold of his right arm and help him. His eyes flick to the bandages before settling on me.
“I didn’t want you to get an infection,” I explain.
His gaze drops to my right hand. “What about your pinky?”
“The bandages are too big.”
For the first time, an expression tightens his features. Anger?
Alek grabs the bag, and opening it, he takes the antiseptic lotion out and tosses it in my lap. “Put some on.”
While I dab a blob onto my pinky finger, I try not to show how much it hurts because Alek must be in a hell of a lot more pain than me.
Just as I’m putting the lotion back into the bag, Alek grips his nose, and a cracking sound vibrates through me.
“God,” I shriek, looking a the man as if he has lost his mind.
“What?” he grumbles while blood trickles from his nose. Unbothered, he uses the neck of his shirt to wipe the blood away. “I’m not going to let it heal crooked.”
I shake my head, and half in awe and half horrified, I ask, “How do you do it?”
“What?”
“How do you not care? They just beat the crap out of you and stabbed a knife through your hand, and you’re still calm.”
Alek stares at me for a moment, then says, “It’s how I was raised. I’ve been preparing for something like this since I was born.”
But how?
Incredulous, I shake my head.
“How do you prepare for a nightmare like this?”
He shrugs, then answers, “The same way you prepare for a normal life. Every day I was taught how to be a bratva soldier.”
I lean closer to him, not even realizing it. “So, while I was being taught ‘normal’ stuff, what did you learn?”
Alek shifts backward so he can lean against the wall, and bringing his knees up, he rests his wrists on them.
“I learned how to fight and shoot.” His eyes roam over my face. “And how to torture someone. Next year I’ll go to a place where I’ll learn everything I need to know to be an asset to the bratva.”
“And the bratva is like the mafia? Mob bosses, drugs, arms? All the bad stuff?”
He nods. “Yep, all the bad stuff.”
Wow. It feels like I’ve been dumped into a world where everything is the opposite of what I’ve known all my life.
“And you’re okay with it?” I swallow hard, my throat dry from the lack of water. “Don’t you want to be anything else besides a criminal?”
Alek thinks for a moment, then says, “I don’t see it as being a criminal. I belong to the bratva family, where we kill for each other.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and seeing the smile on his attractive face makes my heart skip a beat.
“The head of the bratva, Viktor Vetrov, is a good man. I hope I can become half the man he is.” Alek’s eyes flick to mine again. “And there’s Alexei Koslov, Viktor’s godfather. The man is a legend and my hero.” A serious expression darkens his brown irises. “It would be an honor to die for them.” Tilting his head, he asks, “What do you have that’s worth dying for?”