Page 25 of Beneath Scarred Vows

I walk back into the house, leaving them to their work. The night air has turned cold, and I still have business to attend to.

Upstairs, I pause outside our bedroom door, listening. Silence. I push it open quietly.

Katerina is curled on her side, still fully dressed, her breathing deep and even. She looks softer in sleep.

I approach the bed silently, lifting a blanket from the nearby chair. She doesn't move as I cover her. My hand hovers over her face for a moment, wanting to brush the hair away, but I pull back without touching her.

I close the door quietly behind me and head down to my office. Sleep won't come for me, not with adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

The office is dark when I enter. I don't turn on the overhead lights, only the small lamp on my desk. The whiskey decanter catches the light, amber liquid glowing in the glass. I pour myself two fingers, then add a third.

The alcohol burns on the way down, a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in my head. I hadn't planned on killing anyone tonight, but Niko's failure couldn't go unpunished. Not when the stakes are this high.

I sit and think about what may come, what I may have to do, and in that moment, I can only think of one thing I know for sure—the next person who puts Katerina in danger won't get the mercy of a quick death.

That, I can guarantee.

9

KATERINA

Last night, when we arrived back at the house after my Chicago outing, I could barely keep my eyes open. Ares didn't say much to me. He walked me to the bedroom and left me there.

I lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Our confrontation in the alley replaying over and over in my mind.

When I got caught sneaking out at my uncle's, he'd scream at me, even get a little physical at times for disobeying him. Honestly, I didn't mind it since it gave me the ammo to just do it again.

But Ares? The big bad mobster I'd heard so many talk about leading up to our wedding—he didn't do any of that.

Trying to understand what that meant, I must have lost track of time and fallen asleep still in my clothes.

When I woke this morning, Ares wasn't in the room, but someone had put a blanket over me.

Well, I'm up now. I put on a new pair of clothes, freshen up, and make my way downstairs.

Each step down Ares's stairs reminds me I'm trapped in another day of this strange captivity they call marriage.

When I get to the bottom, I'm not even sure where to go or where to find him. I listen for a moment and hear voices coming from down one of the halls—multiple voices, some arguing, others speaking quietly. Following the sound, I approach a set of double doors left slightly ajar.

Through the crack, I see Ares seated behind a large desk. Five men stand around him. Theo is leaning over the desk, pointing to papers spread across the surface. Another man stands by the window, observing.

As if he can sense me, Ares looks up and catches my eye through the doorway. Without breaking eye contact with me, he raises his hand, silencing one of the men mid-sentence.

"Leave us," he commands the people surrounding him.

The men turn to look at me, their expressions ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled contempt.

"Not you, Theo," Ares adds when his brother begins to follow the others.

The room clears out except for Theo, who picks up the papers and leans against the wall, arms crossed. He gives me a nod—not friendly exactly, but not hostile either.

I hesitate in the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?" I ask without moving.

Ares gestures for me to enter. "I was just dealing with finding a replacement for the man who manned the gate last night," he says, his voice calm.

I walk into the room. "You really fired him because I snuck out?" I scoff, crossing my arms. "That seems a bit excessive."

Ares's hands curl into fists on the desk and he stares at me for a moment, studying.