Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
My heart beats in my ears when I spot the cause of the commotion. Ghost is having a heated conversation with my new husband. My husband has him gripped by the scruff of his dress shirt, but that doesn’t mean he is the clear winner. Ghost’s snarl is enough to shake the scariest man’s boots.
“You will do as I ask,” my husband shouts when Ghost breaks out of his hold. “Or you know what the consequences will be.”
I pray for a sinkhole when his threat forces Ghost’s eyes to me. He looks at me as if he hates me. I want to say it is mutual, but for the time being, he still appears to be my only lifeboat.
“Come, Pаб.”
The snapped command is so demanding my feet leap into action before I can recall it isn’t my husband barking orders. It is Ghost.
Not speaking a word, he walks me out of the reception room, across a gravel road, then into a mansion that seems too light and airy, considering how many armed men surround it. There are men stationed at every door and window.
When we enter a room on the second level, my breathing halts halfway to my lungs. It is brimming with men wearing white coats and holding scary instruments. They look more invasive than the instrument Ghost used on me last week.
Either sensing my unease or having his own set of bad memories, Ghost shouts, “Out!”
“We—”
“I said get the fuck out!” Ghost’s roar already has them on the back foot, not to mention his reminder about what happened to the last doctor he crossed paths with.
News of Grigori’s death clearly made it all the way to Russia.
Once we’re alone, Ghost releases me from his hold before moving to a stainless-steel tray in the far-left corner. “Lay down, маленький ягненок.”
Recalling the pledge I made only hours ago I move to the bed in the middle of the room and lay down.
I am doing this for Hailey and only Hailey.
The food I scarfed down for breakfast this morning creeps toward the back of my throat when Ghost spins around. He has a vial in his hand. It is filled with a cloudy white substance.
After pulling off the cap and cursing when it spills because he is holding it upside down, he requests I lower my panties.
“Now, маленький ягненок!” When the sheer material bands around my knees, he murmurs, “That is far enough.”
I can’t control the shake of my legs when the mattress dips under the strain of his weight. He sits next to my knee and pries it open before he lowers the vial so it presses at the opening of my vagina.
“What are you doing?” I murmur a second before he spreads me with his fingers, pushes the vial in, then squirts warm liquid inside me.
I’m confused as to why Ghost is doing what he’s doing when it’s obvious it makes him mad. Not even a second after the gooey substance is emptied inside me, he removes the vial and pegs it across the room before his hands shoot up to his hair. “Fuck!”
He tugs the blond strands until they stand on their ends before he leaves the room without so much as a backward glance.
Several hours later, I detect I’m being watched while leaving the attached bathroom. This room is far more spacious than the one I shared on the ship, but it is sterile and bland. The walls are white. The carpet is white. Even the tiles in the bathroom are a glossy white.
The door is also white and locked.
I tested it multiple times over the last four or so hours.
Ghost’s face looks as red as mine when I finally lock eyes with him. I doubt his is from a torrent of tears from grieving his family. He probably doesn’t even know a hurt like the one I’m experiencing.
How could he when he doesn’t have a heart?
“I am here to escort you to dinner.” With his accent thicker from the grogginess of his voice, I find it a little hard to understand him. “You are to gush about your new husband and tell everyone how perfect he is while ensuring you maintain your modesty.” He walks to a wardrobe with glossed doors and pulls open the first door. “You are to always wear white and act pure.” I feel ashamed when he murmurs, “You should never display signs that you are aware of ecstasy, lust, or wantonness. If you do—”
“You’ll kill me like you did my family?”
My grief has arrived full force.
I am in the depths of utter despair and uncaring about who I take down with me.
“I did not kill your family.” My hope lasts for all of five seconds. “I spared your sister.”
My nails don’t get the chance to add to the scars on his face—he grabs me and pins me to the glossy closet door before they get within an inch of his face. “Would you rather they all be dead, маленький ягненок? Would you prefer that than having her life hanging over your head for eternity?” He grips my cheeks so firmly his nails dig in deep before he forces me to look at him. “She’s alive so you’ll obey. That’s how it works.”