The Gatekeeper (Chicago Bratva #9) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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“Well, then, what?”

He sinks into the chair beside me. “You won’t walk free. Not as an enemy of this cell.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I knew this had to be the case, yet hearing him say it makes it solid and real.

A sheen of tears coats my eyes, but I blink them back. “So I must prove…what? That I’ll be your pet?”

He holds my gaze. Neither of us moves. I can’t breathe.

When he shakes his head, there’s regret there. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Kira.”

My lips tremble. I don’t think it’s from fear. It’s more like my feelings are hurt although that’s absurd. But it’s true. It hurts to have Maykl threaten me, unembellished though the threat may be.

I nod, bitterness twisting my lips. “So, you keep me until you have no further use for me, and then I’m dead?”

He winces. “Nyet. No. Not like that. I’ve been charged with your keeping. If you escape, I’m dead. We both are. We’re saddled with each other now. We might as well make the best of it, no?”

“Where’s my phone? I will need to check in with my boss, or he will know something’s wrong.”

“We have it.”

Something in the way he says it gives me the feeling they will be using it to set a trap for the FBI.

“I will need to check in with my boss or else he will think something’s amiss.”

“We’re handling it.”

Yep. I was right. This is bad. If they fight the FBI, good people could get hurt. Plus, the FBI will think I’m a double agent, and I’ll never get the information I need on Mika. I need to try to stop this.

I blink at him. “How can you live this way? You are in constant fear for your life. What’s the reward? This nice apartment? Enough money to buy a fancy meal?”

“No. Brotherhood is the reward. Protection and power. Family. Belonging. But you already know–once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

“We could escape. Together.” It’s probably too soon to suggest it, but I have to try.

He doesn’t even consider it, though. He shakes his head. “I would never betray my brothers. Nor will I allow you to harm my family.”

“Your loyalty is misplaced. These people aren’t your family. If you’re afraid for your life–”

“We live by a code. The code is honored, or there are consequences. I don’t live in fear. I’m proud of what I’ve become.”

Something about that statement, and the clear, confident way he holds my gaze shakes me to my core. Maykl is a criminal. His crimes are marked all over his skin. Yet he conducts himself with honor, holds himself with pride. And I don’t think it’s from a warped sense of self. I do think he’s an honorable man, in his own way.

He’s protected me, even as his prisoner.

And that dislodges something at the very bottom of the foundation of my case against the bratva. A pebble that stopped up the drain rolls aside, and the basin of hate begins to leak its contents. To slip away. Because how can I reconcile my belief that the bratva is all bad when this man before me is fundamentally…good?

It makes me want to be more like him. He has clearly suffered traumas, same as I have. Yet he's come out of them with a strength and resiliency. I guess I have, too, but there's an underlying bitterness, anger, and hate behind my strength. Maykl is rooted in generosity and brotherhood. Unlike me, who resisted and refused all human bonds after my painful past, Maykl seems to have forged strong ones, and they clearly have made him what he is.

I think again about how he stood in the doorway of that pottery studio marveling over the art involved in creating a pot. It's such a small thing, and yet it shows a depth. He's capable of contemplation. Of appreciation.

“I want to learn to throw pots,” I blurt.

Maykl's eyebrows raise in surprise. “That can be arranged,” he says slowly. “You will have to earn it as a privilege, though.”

That's when the anxiety simmering inside me goes quiet. As if the simple privilege of being allowed to learn to shape clay changes everything.

But it says so much. It says I have a future of some kind. There's something beyond these four walls and Maykl's bed. And…I'm eager to explore it.

Maykl

Ravil texts me during dinner to say that Kira’s nephew is with Vlad. The bratva boss is protective of his adopted son. He wished to speak with Mika to see if he wanted any contact with her.

I hold this information back for the time being.

Kira remained surprisingly docile through dinner, even after I informed her she can’t leave. I can’t decide if she’s trying to play me again. But no, she never fooled me before. Right from the beginning, I knew there was something off about her helpless female act followed by the blatant seduction.


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