Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Did you choose me because you hated me?” I asked.
My brothers. At least those two assholes who I had kind of grown up with weren’t related to me. That was a welcome relief.
“No,” Ivan said. “I chose you because I knew you were damaged and I knew your life was difficult. That is why.”
I had tears in my eyes. “That doesn’t make it easier.”
“I have a thing about helping women,” he said. “Women are to be cherished. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are a lot of women out there who do not deserve it, and that is on them. I want to help those that have been dealt a bad hand and didn’t deserve it. You’re one of them, Freya. Being my sister changes nothing.”
“You’re a softy,” I said.
“No, I’m not,” Ivan said.
I smiled, because it didn’t matter what he said, I knew the truth. He was soft. He cared. For Ivan, he just showed it differently.
“Does this change anything about The Grid?”
“Nothing, not right now.”
“Do you think it will?” I asked.
“No,” Ivan said. “It’s why they need to be brought to their knees.” He spoke normally, and yet I heard the threat within his voice.
He was not joking and was being deadly serious. The Grid had become Ivan’s new target.
I nodded.
He didn’t stay for dinner, but he did pull me in for a hug. “One day soon, you and I will have a good friendship. I will be your big brother, and I will do everything in my power to take care of you.” And he kissed my temple.
I watched as he left, going to Victor. I went to the kitchen.
I had a half-brother. Okay, up until a few hours ago, I had a dad and two brothers I hated. Now, I had a half-brother, and I got the feeling I was going to like him a lot more than the family I grew up with.
Had Harris wanted to kill me?
What good was I to him?
It made no sense, yet look what had happened. I’d somehow ended back up with Volkov, which is where I was supposed to be.
I was preparing the steaks when Victor walked in. I had already heard the helicopter leaving. We were once again alone.
“You okay?” Victor asked.
“Am I okay? To be honest, I don’t know what to think or what to feel right now. It is a lot to take in.”
“The Butcher was the one who figured it out,” Victor said.
“She was?”
He nodded.
“How?”
“You looked familiar to her. She did some digging, went with her gut, and this is what she found out.”
“Wow,” I said. “If she is paid by Ivan, she deserves a raise. Do you want a salad with your steak, or just potatoes?”
“Potatoes,” he said, with a wrinkle of his nose.
“He said he doesn’t think this is going to change much.” I opened up the fridge to grab some of the ingredients to make a fresh salad.
The wine called to me, even though I didn’t drink. Wine tasted a little like vinegar to me, but with what I had just learned, I didn’t think now was the time to hold back. Pulling out the wine bottle, I unscrewed the top and grabbed a glass. The temptation to just swig from the bottle was strong. I poured a very large glass, and then I took a nice long drink.
“Are you thirsty?” Victor asked.
“I just found out that a guy I don’t know is my half-brother. My fake father has made arrangements for me to be killed. He has made my life a nightmare for as long as I can remember, and I’m not even related to him. I just think now is the time to have a drink.”
I took a large gulp. It tasted so bitter. The glass I finished a couple of days ago had given me a lovely hum. I needed that hum. I needed to feel numb. Right now, I didn’t know who I was.
Before Ivan arrived, I was Freya Harris, married to a guy I didn’t choose, and was going to make it work. Now, Ivan has given me the choice to divorce this man. I don’t know why I didn’t just take it. Victor and I were like chalk and cheese. We were not the same, not even close, yet I had a chance to divorce him today and I didn’t take it. Why?
He wanted to kiss me the other day, and I said no.
Drinking my second glass of wine, I finished the entire glass, and that numbness turned into a nice little buzz which I was enjoying. I needed this wine.
Putting the steaks on the grill, the potatoes were nearly cooked, and I attempted to chop a salad. But when you’re not used to drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, your hand coordination goes out the window fast. I put salad ingredients on my plate, however, I was not going to be winning any awards for my chopping anytime soon.