Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Viktor,” Luca murmurs, worry lacing the word.
My eyes snap to Juan-Paul. “Who’s bright idea was this?”
“M-mine,” he stutters.
I reach behind my back for one of my Heckler & Kochs as I nod. “You had me fly out all the way here for this piece of shit?”
“I’m sorry, Sir. Just give me a couple of minutes to fix it.”
My fingers flex around the handle of my weapon as I bring it up between Juan-Paul and me. I nod at the Heckler & Koch. “Are you trying to sell me shit?”
“No, Mr. Vetrov. The men should’ve made sure it worked,” he throws the blame at the two men cowering behind him.
I turn the barrel of my gun on them, and they instinctively step backward. “Which one fucked up?”
“Viktor,” Luca mutters, sounding tired from keeping me out of trouble the past week.
Ignoring my best friend, I grit the words out between clenched teeth, “Who. Fucked. Up?”
Both men point at each other, and I let out a burst of laughter. When Juan-Paul start to laugh, I aim the gun at his right foot and pull the trigger.
With a shout of pain, he drops to the ground. I crouch down in front of him and press the barrel to his head. Locking eyes with the fucker, I say, “You promised me a modified Glock and didn’t deliver. Next time you make me fly out for nothing, I’ll end you.”
“Y-yes, Mr. Vetrov,” he stammers, relief filling his eyes.
I rise to my feet and mutter, “I expect a discount.”
“Of course,” he agrees. Not that he has a fucking choice.
When I turn my attention to Luca, he just shakes his head.
We leave the sweltering warehouse, and I say, “What a waste of fucking time.”
Luca lets out a sigh. “Like you had anything better to do.”
I did. There’s a fuck-ton of pain in my chest I have to somehow process.
“We had a deal,” I say as I hold my hand out to Luca. “Give me my phone.”
The fucker took it so I wouldn’t drunk-call Rosalie and beg her to come back.
He pulls the device out of his pocket and shoves it into my hand. I glance at the dead phone, then give Luca an unimpressed look. “You couldn’t charge it?”
He smirks at me. “Figured it would give Rosalie another nine hours before you start hounding her ass.”
“Fucker,” I grumble as we climb into the Jeep.
The flight back to LA is fucking long, and sleep evades me just to torture me.
Now that I’m sober, clear images of Rosalie fill my mind, each one a dagger to my heart.
By the time I get home and plug my phone into my charger, I’m grumpy as fuck and regretting not killing Juan-Paul.
I switch on my laptop and start typing furiously. The monitors light up with the information I’ve been dying to see.
One shows me that Rosalie is in Sicilian territory, and when I zoom in via a CCTV camera, I notice there’s a restaurant.
She’s probably having dinner.
On her bank records, I see hotel expenses and a deposit for an apartment has gone off.
I start digging but can’t find out where she’s living.
The monitor, with a view of the restaurant, draws my attention, and I lose my ability to breathe when I see Rosalie coming around the side of the building.
Jesus.
She’s wearing a sexy as fuck black cocktail dress that ends mid-thigh and heels. The heart-shaped bodice shows off her cleavage, which I’m not fucking happy with.
Grabbing my phone, I switch it on. I ignore all the missed calls and messages and dial her number.
When it starts to ring, I watch as she digs her phone out of her handbag. Shock registers on her face, then it’s quickly followed by relief.
“Hi,” her voice comes breathless over the line.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I snap.
A frown forms on her forehead. “Excuse me?”
“The dress. You better get your ass back to your apartment and change out of it, or I swear I’ll fly out and rip it off your body.”
I watch as anger tightens her features. “You don’t reply to my text and call me out of the blue to boss me around?” Her chest heaves, making her cleavage more prominent. My cock hardens at the sight. “In case it hasn’t sunk in, I’m no longer your captive, Viktor. I will wear whatever I want.”
She fucking hangs up on me then glances around until she spots the CCTV camera. The woman glares at me before she continues to walk down the street.
I lean back in my chair, a smile forming on my face as I watch her sexy ass sway beneath the fabric.
Christ, I miss you, moya Malen'kaya Roza.
Like a starving man, I drink in the sight of her toned legs and the silky brown strands hanging down her back until she disappears out of the view of the camera.