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)
The Italian is looking for shit to rain down on his head. Once Viktor, the head of the bratva, and Luca, the head of the mafia, hear of this, all hell will break loose.
The mafia is tied to the bratva through marriage, and from what I’ve heard, it’s a happy marriage. There’s also the fact that Viktor and Luca are close friends.
With Prodi taking us, he’s basically declaring war on the mafia and bratva.
I’d laugh my ass off if it weren’t for the shitty position I find myself in.
And then there’s the girl. She’s been quiet since I agreed to keep her secret. I’m actually impressed she came up with the lie that we’re dating. It won’t keep her alive for long, but she bought herself a day or two.
My eyes drift to where she’s pressed her body into the corner. Panic and fear still tighten her features. My gaze stops on her trembling hands.
She has pretty hands.
Every time I look at her, I’m struck by her beauty. Beautiful is the last thing you want to be when you’re kidnapped. There’s a good chance they might rape her before killing her.
I feel sorry for her, but there’s not much I can do.
“Did you see my brother?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
I keep staring at her until she finally turns her head and meets my eyes. She looks broken, and they haven’t even started with the torture.
Then again, she’s not from my world.
Suddenly I wish I could tell her she’ll be okay, but I can’t bring myself to lie to her.
“What’s your brother’s name?” she asks, her voice soft as if all her energy has been drained from her.
“Vincent.”
“And your last name is Aslanhov?” When I nod, she explains, “They gave me your full name.” She seems to think about something before she says, “We should get our story straight in case they ask about our relationship.” When I don’t say anything, she continues, “My last name is Adams. I’m from Ohio.” Her face threatens to crumble before she says, “My parents died a year ago.” She loses the battle, and a sob bursts from her. “There’s no one who will notice I’m missing.”
I’m hit by an intense wave of pity for the girl who seems to have the worst luck in the world.
“I have people already searching for us,” I say to make her feel a little better.
Whether they’ll get here in time is a whole different story.
Silence falls between us for a long while before Everleigh whispers, “Please tell me this is just a nightmare, and I’ll wake up soon.”
My gaze swings to her, and I shake my head. “I might be a criminal, but I never lie.”
A hollow-sounding sigh escapes her. Minutes later, she looks at me. “Why are you a criminal?”
I shrug, and figuring I have nothing better to do, I decide to answer her question. “I was born into the bratva. It wasn’t a choice.”
“If you had a choice, would you do something else?”
I shrug again but don’t answer because I never thought about it. Why waste your time thinking about something that can never be?
After a while, she asks, “Don’t you want to know anything about me?”
My eyes lock with hers, then I murmur, “You’re an eighteen-year-old American from Ohio who lost her parents and is alone in this world. You’ve grown up in a protected household and have no idea how to handle the shitty situation we find ourselves in. You’re a positive person because, against all odds, you still have hope to get out of this alive.” I pause for a moment before I add, “And you’re either a kind person or a weak one for agreeing to change clothes with a girl you don’t know.” My eyes flick to the door. “I know everything worth knowing about you.”
I can feel Everleigh’s eyes burning on me. “You don’t have to be a jerk.”
She might be beautiful, and under different circumstances, I would’ve taken my chance with her, but this is not the time or place to get to know someone. Growing attached to her will make me vulnerable.
Hours pass where nothing happens. It’s impossible to tell what the time is because there are no windows in the room.
I’m thirsty, and my stomach keeps rumbling.
Everleigh keeps squirming in the corner, giving me the impression she needs to go to the restroom.
My bladder is full, but I can hold out for another few hours.
I’m more worried about Vincent than anything else. He’s the eldest Aslanhov son, so they will torture him before they get to me.
They’re probably torturing him at this very moment.
I keep my face expressionless. Like I’ve been taught to do.
Papa used to beat the shit out of us until we learned to show no emotion. Now I understand why he did it.
My father isn’t a good man, and honestly, he’s not much of a father. I’ve been raised by one of the bosses of the bratva, and the only love I get is from Mama, Vincent, Misha, and Tiana.