Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Let her go!” I aim my M16 at Valery, who’s standing a meter away from them, amber eyes narrowed. “Now,” I add harshly, my finger tightening on the trigger when Konstantin doesn’t obey.
“No!” Alina struggles harder. “Alexei, don’t!”
She breaks free and launches herself at me. I catch her with my free arm and cage her tightly against my side. Despite my fury at her betrayal, something inside me softens at the feel of her slender body pressed against me, at the sweet, delicate scent of her that’s now as familiar to me as the way she looks first thing in the morning, all soft and sleepy, jade eyes hazy and filled with warmth as she whispers, “I love you.”
Deceptive warmth, deceptive words, I remind myself, but it doesn’t seem to matter.
Liar or not, I still want her, still crave her, still need her more than food, water, or air.
She’s mine, and she’ll always be mine, no matter how hard she tries to fight it.
She’s shaking, I can feel it, and I don’t think it’s just from the cold. Her distress is unbearable to me. I gesture at my men, and they step in front of us, further separating us from her brothers, both of whom are glaring at me with unconcealed hatred.
Once I’m sure the Molotovs are no threat, I drop my weapon and pull Alina fully into my embrace, wanting to console her, even though her tears are most likely from the disappointment that her escape plan failed. Except she wraps her arms around me and squeezes so hard my ribs hurt, her face pressing against my shoulder as sobs rack her body. “I th-thought—” She’s crying so hard she seems unable to get the words out. “I thought you were… dead. In the explosion. Or… or burning alive.”
She’s hyperventilating, and to my shock, I realize she’s melting down. Over what could’ve happened to me.
This isn’t an act. Nobody is that good at acting.
Except she almost had me convinced before, almost had me trusting that she loved me, that the harmony between us for the past two months was real. I was already letting go of my doubts when my hackers alerted me to a subtle inconsistency in the camera feeds from the Geneva police station, and I realized the whole Birgit thing was a setup.
Alina’s brothers—likely with her participation—invented the crisis in order to focus my attention elsewhere while they finally launched their long-awaited “rescue” operation. An operation that successfully bypassed all of my security measures except one.
The moment I learned of their deception, I activated Plan C, a failsafe protocol that no one, not even my guards, knew about.
As our cameras fed us fake images and the Molotovs’ stealth robots planted explosives, my men and I disappeared deep underground while tiny gas grenades inside the fence went off, knocking out the Molotovs’ support team, so when Alina’s brothers arrived with their stolen prize in tow, there was no one there to assist in their getaway.
Instead, my men and I were waiting.
I hug Alina tighter, her tears soaking into my shirt above my bulletproof vest while I battle a peculiar mixture of relief, rage, bitter disappointment, and joy. She tried to leave me again, as deep down I knew she would. Tried and failed. I still have her, and now the truth is out in the open, so why am I so reluctant to accept it, the knowledge that despite everything, she still wants to run from me?
Why am I still having doubts, only now in the opposite direction?
Why am I hoping that these tears mean she regrets what she has done? That the way she struggled against Konstantin’s hold and ran to me were signs she was actually glad to see me alive?
I wait until she calms a bit before gesturing to my guards to take her brothers away. Which is when I notice the tiny smirk on Valery’s face and see the red dots all over my men’s chests.
Fuck.
I look up.
Hovering silently over us, some ten meters above, are drones. The kind of drones I’ve never seen before, made entirely of a reflective silvery material that would make them all but impossible to spot from a distance.
Stealth drones. Military grade. Likely remote-piloted with AI assistance, given the precision of those laser dots.
A red dot dances over my arm.
Adrenaline fires through me, clearing my mind like nothing else can. Swiftly, I separate from Alina and back up several steps.
I can’t risk the drone misfiring and hitting her instead of me.
Valery’s smirk stretches into a cold, hard smile. “You got it. Now tell your men to back away from us… if they want to live, that is.”
Alina looks confused at first, but then she must see the red dot on me. A gasp escapes her lips, and she whirls around to face her brothers—and then she looks up, likely having seen more red dots on my men.