Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
In that document, it was mentioned that Adrian was the target of many assassination attempts. Because of his position, he knows more than he should and uses it for the brotherhood’s benefits. Whether it’s to seize power, to order a hit, or to steal deals. His control over critical information has made him a target for numerous crime organizations and cartels—including the Bratva’s classic allies.
Ogla mentioned once that he works from home for his own safety, and that the Pakhan prefers it because it keeps the brotherhood’s most valuable asset, Adrian, from danger.
“Let me go,” Yan groans.
I shake my head against his shoulder. I’m straddling his lap, both of my hands pressing on his wound. “They’ll kill you.”
He raises a brow. “If they don’t, the boss will.”
I scowl. “This is not the time to think about Adrian’s stupid possessiveness.”
“He’ll really murder me for touching you.”
“You’re not touching. I am.” I stare behind me at the silent men. “Who are they?”
Yan shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it means he doesn’t know or that I shouldn’t talk about them when they can hear us. Probably both.
All I know is that these men are dangerous—professional, even. They managed to slip under the heavy security at tonight’s party and even leave unnoticed. The car does have tinted windows, which helped, but still. Yan and I were completely taken off guard.
“Why are you so calm?” Adrian’s guard asks me, sweat trickling down his temples.
I stare at my steady hands. Even my breathing is calm. I didn’t panic, not even when Yan was shot. My immediate thought was to get him safe and sound from that predicament. It still is.
But ever since I got that text, I’ve had a premonition that something bad would happen. That’s why I practically begged Adrian to take us home.
“Panic won’t do us any good, Yan.”
“You’re so different.” He grabs my hand with his non-injured one and tries to pry me off him.
I swat it away as gently as possible. “Stop worrying about Adrian’s reaction when you’re about to bleed to death.”
“Not possible. We exist for him.”
“Jesus. That’s some warped sense of loyalty.”
“He’s so blinded, though…” he trails off, his voice weakening. “He’s lost sight of what’s important…”
I press harder on his wound and he grunts, pursing his lips to stifle a moan of pain. I can feel my strength waning and Yan still won’t stop bleeding.
It doesn’t take him long to lose consciousness. He tries to fight it, I’ll give him that. He keeps attempting to open his lids when I call his name, but then he’s out cold.
“Yan! Don’t faint. Think of your stupid boss and Kolya and Jeremy.” My voice is urgent, hysterical almost. He’s the only semblance of a friend I’ve had ever since I stepped into Lia’s shoes.
His dry lips twitch, but he doesn’t attempt to open his eyes.
“Yan!”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Rifle Man turns around and hits me across the face with the tip of his rifle. Pain explodes over my temple and I taste metal from my lips.
Tears fill my eyes from the stinging pain, but I don’t let them out. I don’t release Yan’s inert, cold body either.
The car comes to a halt and I shrink further into Yan. If they throw him in the middle of nowhere, he won’t be able to survive.
“It’s time you deal with this bitch.” Rifle Man retrieves a cigarette. “I’m so tired of her annoying voice—”
His cigarette falls from his fingers when the driver shoots him between the eyes. His head lolls to the side, face contorted in surprise.
I gasp, my whole body going rigid. He just shot his partner.
The driver tips his head down, and the black hat hides his expression. His hand, covered by a black leather glove, rests on the steering wheel, and his other one that’s holding the gun is on his lap. His posture is relaxed, nonchalant.
“Noisy fucker,” he mutters casually.
My lips part as the realization slams into me. It’s the same voice from my nightmare.
The same tone.
The same tenor.
You have one mission. Pull the fucking trigger.
The shadow. The shadow is here.
“Long time no see, Duchess,” he says without turning around. “Miss me?”
I try to wiggle sideways to see him, but the hat and the mask still camouflage his face.
“Who are you?” My voice is calm but cautious.
“Who am I is an interesting way of putting it. Who are you, Duchess? What’s your mission?”
“I have no mission.”
“Yes, you do.” He twirls the gun in his hand, his forefinger pressing on the trigger. “You know it. I know it. If you don’t make it happen, you’ll pay the price.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” my lips tremble as the words leave them.
“Finding openings to talk to you is tedious as fuck, Duchess. Stop wasting my time and make it happen. I’ll check on you soon.” He gets out of the car, and before I can release a breath, he yanks my door open and wrenches me out.