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)
It looked like Freya had made beef stew with mashed potatoes. Even though it was still quite warm, my wife wanted hearty fall dishes.
She put a bowl full of food in front of my plate, along with her own. Picking up my fork, I dived in because I was ravenous. It was succulent, juicy, savory, and with each bite, it made me want more.
“Is it good?” she asked.
“It’s delicious. I did pour you a glass of wine if you’d like to try it.”
She looked at the glass and then shrugged. “Why not try one sip?” She didn’t wait for a response as she took a sip. “It’s good.”
From the wrinkle of her nose, I didn’t think it was.
We talked about the techniques The Butcher was teaching her. I caught her up on The Grid situation, and before long, our dinner was finished. We took our glasses of wine, and I sat with her as we watched her movie. Again, it was a romance, but the story didn’t register with me. I couldn’t help but steal glances at my wife. She finished her glass of wine, and I poured her another. However, she put the glass down and switched to water. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t attempting to get her drunk.
The movie ended and Freya leaned back. “You know, that’s all I wanted,” she said.
“What?”
“To have a big family. To ... fall in love. I know it sounds corny and I never told anyone because what is the point of telling anyone when all they tell you is how ugly you are?”
“I am going to kill your father,” I said.
This made her look toward me. I expected to see anger or tears or something. Instead, she just looked at me and nodded her head. “It’s not like I can defend him. Look what he’s done.” She sighed.
“We’ll make it right.”
“The Butcher was telling me about The Grid. No one escapes it, Victor. I’m just me. I’m a nobody. How can I escape something like that? It doesn’t seem possible.”
I cupped her cheek and forced her to look at me. “We’ll fix it. Don’t have doubts in the Volkov Bratva. We’re a lot stronger than people realize.”
But the sadness in her eyes didn’t disappear. When Freya looked at me, I knew she was thinking about her death, and that was not acceptable.
In that moment, I don’t know what came over me or why I was even feeling this way, but I wanted to kiss her. Her lips were lovely and plump. Not too big, not too little, just perfect, and I wanted to kiss her.
Running my thumb across her lips, she looked up at me, a little taken aback. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to kiss you, Freya. Tell me to stop.”
“Stop,” she said.
And this surprised me.
“Look, I know we’re trying to make this work, but kissing me ... I don’t know if you’re doing this as some kind of order from Ivan. I don’t want this to feel forced, and I’m not going to pretend this is easy.” She got to her feet. “I hope you don’t hate me, but I’m not ready to start kissing you.”
She turned on her heel and left.
It was odd, other men might be pissed at her rejection. I wasn’t, I was happy about it, because it meant my wife was not afraid to tell me no, and that was a damn good feeling.
****
The Butcher
Holy fucking shit!
I knew I was good. I knew I was really fucking good, but I had no idea just how good I actually was. Staring down at the results, it was clear as day, and yet this brought a whole new bunch of problems. What it did so was buy us a little time with The Grid, as these results changed everything.
“You know, when I give you a command, you’re supposed to follow it. This is not showing good signs of being a Brigadier. I can trust each of them to be where they need to be,” Ivan said, arriving with The Beast in tow.
I should have known The Beast wouldn’t be far behind.
“How good are you at surprises?” I asked, looking at Ivan.
This made him frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, did you know Freya’s circumstances?” I asked. I waited but both men were silent. “Okay, clearly, I was the only one thinking about this. Did no one think it odd that Harris kept this woman’s identity a secret? I mean, she is in no papers. No one knows who her mother is. Even Freya doesn’t have a clue who her mother is. She wasn’t allowed to go to school. The nannies that taught her are all dead. Everyone that had anything to do with her is dead, including a couple of plastic surgeons who refused to operate on her.”
Ivan folded his arms across his chest. “I did always find it suspicious, but Harris was a fickle man. He thought Freya was ugly.”