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Mikhail clears his throat. “I’ve had confirmation this zasranets is holding some of the girls. After I threatened to release the information I hold over my father, I was given the first name. However, Romano’s location, this could take me more time.” He jots down the information on a small piece of paper fed to him by Nikolai. The chair creaks as he leans forward and hands it to me.
Not the answer I was hoping for, but this is the closest we have to Romano’s location since he went off grid after Rosa’s wedding.
After a quick glance, I tuck it into my chest pocket. “We have time. I’ve been waiting ten years to kill that piece of shit.”
Mikhail laughs. “It’s personal, then?”
“Very.”
“Miki, we gotta go.” His brother has piercing blue eyes that catch the light as he steps around the chair.
Grayson coughs behind me, we need the Volkov’s on our side. Coming here and seeing their set up, they are responsive, quick and ruthless.
“Alexei, see our guests get home safely.” Mikhail emphasizes the last word. He sticks his hand out across the table, the dark skull tattoo they are all marked with on display.
I give him a firm handshake.
The big guy to his left brings over six glasses and pours out a vodka. Mikhail slides mine over to me, followed by Grayson’s and Jax’s.
He holds up his shot. “To our alliance.”
I hold up mine and knock it back, feeling the intense heat as the liquid scorches my throat.
His dark eyes watch me over his mask. “Are you sure you don’t want the room for the night?”
I shake my head. “No. She’s coming home.”
Her home now for the rest of her life.
26
ZARA
Song- Too Late to Love you, Ex Habit
Too Late To Love You by Ex Habit (exhabitmusic.com)
Without uttering a single word, Frankie waltzes back in, his presence filling the air. The sight of him instantly raises my heart rate. And the anticipation of what he’s going to do to me both excites and terrifies me.
“Have you had long enough to think about it?” he asks.
“Fuck you.” I spit in his face.
Immediately regretting my decision, his nostrils flare as he wipes the saliva from his cheek.
He grabs my jaw, his grip firm and possessive.
“Say that again, I dare you,” he grits out.
“I hate you, Frankie.”
As he yanks the covers off, a blast of chilly air fills the room, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He unties my wrists, but keeps them bound in his grasp. Using his knee to spread my legs, he positions himself between them.
“Do you really? Hmm.”
As I attempt to wriggle out of his strong hold, his grip only tightens.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly.
