Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Nothing could return the light in her eyes.
“Contact the Yurys. I need to make sure there are no additional terms attached to Andrei’s debt.”
Yev slants his head and cocks a brow. “Like what?”
I nudge my head to the girl who still has the devotion of almost every man in the room, even with her forehead being wrinkled by the crease it gets every time she’s jealous and the stern balling of her hands that exposes she will be a ball breaker if given a chance.
“The Yurys’ leader married a girl decades his junior after a failed negotiation with a sanctioned ally, and is rumored to be seeking a wife for his eldest son, Asher.”
“All right. I’ll make some calls now.” Yev downs the nip of vodka placed in front of him before tossing on the coat he only removed minutes ago. “While I do that, can you please fix her fucking head?” He stares at Ana while wetting his suddenly dry lips. “I can’t remember a day where she walked into a room and didn’t believe she was the most wanted person there. I fucking hate seeing her like this.”
“You’re not the only one.”
I realize I said my comment out loud when Yev whacks me on the back while saying, “Then fucking fix it.”
“And how am I meant to do that? Invent a time machine and go back to the morning I took her too hard and too fast?” Just like the night I claimed her virginity, I wasn’t meant to go so hard the morning I woke her by kissing her goodbye on her pussy lips instead of the plump ones on her face. Ana just has a way of making me so unhinged, it goes from gentle sweeps of my tongue to manic fucking in two simple steps.
Ana. Naked.
No wonder why she hates me.
“One, if you need me to give you tips on how to make Ana believe she is enough, maybe you’re no longer the man for the job.” Before I can smack his words back into his mouth, he quickly adds, “Two, you guys need to talk. Badly.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets to protect them from the brutal winds he’s about to be subjected to. “There is a ton of miscommunication, and not a lot of fucking.” With a grin, he mutters, “And if I recall correctly, that’s how you two communicate.”
He leaves before he can see the honesty on my face.
And Ana loses her next hand just as quickly.
11
ANASTASIA
Fuck!
I agreed to play tonight purely to take some of the pressure of my father’s debt from Alek’s shoulders.
All I’m doing is doubling it.
I haven’t won a single round because I’m too busy focusing on Stace and her conversation about her unborn baby’s father. She hasn’t mentioned a name, but the way her eyes continually flick to Alek when anyone asks is driving me nuts. Only four years ago, I would have laughed at her constant insinuations that Alek was interested in her. I knew I was more than enough for him, but I don’t feel as confident this time around.
Yev saw him in her bed. What more proof do I need that I wasn’t enough for him?
“Sorry? What did you say?” I mutter to the dealer when he nudges me out of my thoughts.
“It’s your act. Check, bet, call, raise, or fold.”
“Umm…” Jesus, Ana, get a grip! “Raise.”
I realize my mistake when I spot the grin of the man across from me. He knows I’m not holding anything to use with the ace in the hole on the table.
My nails dig into my palms when I bunch my hands so tightly, my knuckles go white. One more round, and I’m out in a shamefully short thirty minutes.
Before I can place down a chip to make me an active player in this round, I’m plucked from my seat and forcefully walked to the exit.
My first response is to go on the defensive. “I’m not losing on purpose. It’s just been a while.”
“Clearly,” Alek replies, his long strides not faltering. “So how about we fix that before moving on to other matters?”
My eyes dart in all directions when I am pushed into an office I didn’t notice upon entering. Alek doesn’t give me a second to take in the pricey decor, though. A second after I drink in the large wooden desk with an antique lamp, my backside is planted on the leather writing rectangle, my legs spread, and my senses overwhelmed by Alek burying his head between my legs.
“Woah. Damn. Jeez. Alek, we can’t…” I try to push his head back, but there’s no power behind my maneuver. All my strength is reserved for not coming on the spot.
I’ve already made a fool out of myself once tonight.
I refuse to do it a second time.