Control Me (Corrupted Royals #2) Read Online Michelle Heard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corrupted Royals Series by Michelle Heard
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
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This place is truly exquisite, the grounds looking like something from a fairytale. We didn’t have much time to explore yesterday because we ran into the bratva enforcers who want us dead.

I’m well aware of the fact that our families have enemies all over the world, but I wasn’t prepared for such a hostile welcome.

I’m not going to lie. Yesterday was information overload for me. The encounter with the bratva enforcers. Discovering my friend is secretly in love with one of them. Meeting Nikolai Vetrov.

Nikolai Vetrov.

Yum.

The man is six feet-something, hot as hell, and just so freaking manly he has my ovaries dancing the rumba at the mere sight of him.

Walking back to the bedroom, I pull another bag closer and unpack some of my clothes.

Nikolai Vetrov. The blood diamond king and cousin to the head of the bratva. Jesus, he’s as powerful as they come.

I wonder why he’s teaching combat training here when he has a massive diamond empire to run.

I hang a dress in the closet, then turn to grab my favorite leather jacket.

If I knew Nikolai Vetrov looked like that, I would’ve put myself in his path much sooner. The man has the broadest shoulders that look like they can carry the weight of the world without any effort.

His black hair is peppered with silver on the sides, which I’m a sucker for. I’ve never liked boys my own age and always go weak in the knees for alpha men with big-dick energy who know exactly what they want from life and stop at nothing to get it.

Nikolai Vetrov fits that description to a T. Think Johnny Depp. Ian Somerhalder. Or even better…Keanu Reeves.

To me, age is just a number.

Running out of time, I grab the black cargo pants and t-shirt I was told to wear for training and head to the ensuite bathroom.

Nikolai keeps filling my thoughts while I hurry through my morning routine. Last night we had dinner with Director Koslov, who’s in charge of St. Monarch’s, and I was seated next to Nikolai.

I tried flirting with the man again, but he just shut me down with icy indifference. It’s a pity. I’m not looking for a once-in-a-lifetime romance. Just an earth-shattering orgasm will do. That’s not too much to ask for, right?

I let out a chuckle as I step into the ugly as fuck boots. I’m like white on rice when it comes to the latest fashions, and this uniform is killing my vibe.

Once I’m dressed, I tie my hair in a ponytail before scowling at my reflection in the mirror. The combat uniform doesn’t flatter my body.

Ugh.

Still, I’m looking forward to training because of the eye candy that’s Nikolai Vetrov.

Sure, I’m worried about making a total ass of myself in front of the man, but maybe if I play up the damsel in distress act, he’ll be open to giving me private lessons. The key word being ‘private.’

Yeah, I’m fully aware of the fact that the man is one of my family’s enemies, but I’m totally open to a steamy hate-fuck session.

Some might call me a slut, but I like to think of myself as sexually confident. The last thing I’m going to do is wait for a man to grow a set of balls and approach me. If I see something I like, I go after it.

And I like Nikolai Vetrov.

Chapter 3

Nikolai

Busy with a training session for the first-year attendees, I’m annoyed as fuck when Abigail and Aurora sneak into the studio fifteen minutes late.

If it’s one thing I hate, it’s people who can’t be bothered to be on time. I’m OCD when it comes to that shit.

I keep my attention on Caspian, Seijo, and the Almeida twins, who’ve been training here for the past three months.

“We’re in trouble,” I hear Abigail whisper, laughter dancing in her voice.

Trouble is the understatement of the fucking year.

The two women move closer and do a dismal job of taking a fighting stance.

Abigail lets out a burst of laughter, and it has my temper shooting through the roof.

With anger rippling through my muscles, I stalk to where the girls stand. Not prepared to take their shit, I snap, “First, you disrespect me by being late, then you’re disruptive in class.”

Aurora’s eyes widen, and she has enough common sense to look apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It was just five minutes,” Abigail dares to fucking sass me. “And I wasn’t aware we were not allowed to laugh.”

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m struck by all the emotions flashing in her soft brown irises. Amusement, desire, and a feisty attitude stare back at me.

I nod, accepting the silent dare she’s blatantly throwing at my feet.

You’re picking a fight with the wrong man, little girl.

The only way to make these two mafia princesses understand is the hard way. They’re here to learn how to keep themselves alive, and it’s time they realize it.



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