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“I look forward to seeing the infamous Vetrov island,” My father taunts him. “It was nice doing business with you, Nikolai.”
“Keep pushing me, fucker,” Nikolai growls under his breath.
“Just keep walking,” Damien murmurs.
All the Vetrovs are on high alert as we rush through the house and out the front door. I’m bundled into an SUV, and Nikolai and Winter slide in on either side of me. Damien climbs in behind the steering wheel while Grandpa Cillian takes the passenger seat.
When we pull away from the mansion and drive through the gates, I glance over my shoulder and release a relieved breath. “I expected bullets to fly.”
Grandpa Cillian lets out a chuckle. “Enough money can stop any war.”
Right.
I was just sold to Nikolai.
As the thought crosses my mind, I’m yanked into my man’s arms and squashed to his chest. His breaths are harsh, as if he’s run a marathon.
“Thank you for coming for me,” I whisper.
“I’ll always come for you.” He holds me for a few minutes before he pulls back to look at me, his eyes drinking in the sight of me. “Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head and try to joke to ease the tension in the vehicle. “Damaged goods don’t sell for as much.”
I’m pressed to his chest again. “I was so fucking worried.”
I hold Nikolai tight, glad there wasn’t any blood shed today. I really don’t want anyone to die because of me.
After a while, I ask, “What happens now?”
“Now, we go home,” Winter answers.
Home.
Never in a million years did I think I’d become part of the Vetrov family.
A smile curves my lips as I lean against my man.
Thank God for miracles.
Chapter 39
Nikolai
I’m so fucking tired of flying when we step off the private jet.
Grandma is standing on the main house’s porch. “Oh, thank God.” She hurries closer to hug Abigail. “I was so worried.”
“I’m okay, Grandma Dana,” my love assures her.
A smile curves my lips because I’m grateful that everything worked out and Abigail didn’t get hurt.
“Come, I’ve prepared dinner.”
“Christ, you probably cooked enough to feed an army,” Grandpa mutters.
Grandma waves an arm over the property. “And what do you call all the men guarding us?”
“An army,” Grandpa grumbles.
