Page 11

Sasha seems to be taking longer than normal in the bathroom, and I begin to wonder if she’s tried to escape. There are so many people here, most of them her enemy, so it would be a stupid move to do so, but who knows—maybe she's desperate.

I excuse myself from the conversation and make my way through the crowd of people towards the bathroom.

I round the corner into the hallway, and the scene that greets me is completely unexpected.

Rico is overpowering her, and it immediately spikes my anger.

After some heated words, trying to figure out what the hell is going on here, thinking maybe he caught her trying to leave and was possibly just helping me out, I realize that is not the case at all.

I stand firm, glaring at Rico.

He has one hand locked over Sasha’s mouth and his other hand gripping her throat as he holds her against his body, trying to push her towards the front door. He’s mostly ignoring me.

Rage surges inside me at the sight of him handling her this way—who the fuck does he think he is? That is my wife, no matter who she is—she is my wife, and he has to respect that.

I’m trying to reason with him, but really, I just want to punch the fucking daylights out of him.

But I remind myself that Rico has been a friend for years, he’s clearly had a bit to drink, and I shouldn’t just lash out at him, despite the anger I feel. I sigh heavily and shake my head at him, thinking I can try one more time to reason with the idiot.

“Rico, she didn’t fucking sneak in here. I brought her. She is my wife, and if anyone is going to be torturing her, it’ll be me. Not you. Now just let her go.” I step towards him and hold out my hand to take her from him. But he steps back abruptly. I feel my jaw clench tightly, the muscles feathering with agitation.

“No. Her father has to pay for what he’s done to my family. And right now, I have his most prized possession in my hands. I can’t lose this chance.”

He thinks he’s stumbled upon a chance encounter. He doesn’t have any idea how long I plotted and planned to kidnap her—the careful process of learning her movements, keeping an eye on her, putting the fucking effort in. He thinks that all of the work that I put in is now his opportunity. He really is a fucking idiot.

“This chance ? This isn’t a chance, Rico. It’s not a random opportunity. She is here because I brought her here. This isn’t some amazing plan you’ve come up with to exact your revenge on her father. She is mine to do with as I please.”

I can see he’s more drunk than I thought and upset, and I don’t blame him. Sasha’s father has pissed off a lot of people. But I’ll be damned if I am going to let Rico interfere with my plans for revenge.

“No, man, I can’t. I can’t give her back to you.” He shakes his head.

I step closer, threatening him with my body.

“I’m the one who gets to torture her. I am the one who took her. Don’t fucking interfere here, Rico.” My patience is running thin. He’s pushing me too far and blatantly ignoring my request.

“Fuck that. She is going to feel a world of pain at my hands.” Rico’s grip on her throat tightens, and for the first time, I look into Sasha’s eyes. They are bright with tears, wide with fear and begging for help. My heart clenches tight in my chest.

Seeing her like this, in the hands of another man, slams a hundred emotions into me, and every single one of them surprise me.

I want to help her.

I want to protect her.

She is genuinely terrified, and I hate to see her this way.

“Rico. This is the last fucking time I will say this. Let go of my wife right now.”

“Fuck off. You don’t know what her father did to me,” he snarls.

He’s not listening. He has no intention of letting her go and the tears are streaming down her face, over his hand where it’s locked across her mouth.

An intense, ferocious rage spikes in my body, and I throw a punch so hard that when it connects with Rico’s jaw, he is thrown backwards against the wall. He lets go of Sasha, and she collapses to the floor, gasping for air.

I grab Rico by the throat and lift him to his feet, slamming him against the wall as I speak close to his face, growling darkly, “If you ever touch her again, the alliance you have with the Dubrovs is finished. Do you understand? Is there anything about what I just said that is unclear?”

He shakes his head weakly, his eyes filled with shock.

I let him go and he staggers on his feet.

Maxim arrives behind us.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concerned and trying to take it all in.

I lean down and lift Sasha in my arms. She is crying, her entire body shaking.

“I’m taking Sasha home. Rico thought it was a good time to try and kidnap her. We had a minor disagreement. Will you deal with it?” I ask Maxim.

“Yeah, go on. I’ll sort this out,” he replies, nodding, with his brows knitted tightly together. “Is she alright?”

“She’ll be fine as long as he never goes near her again,” I snap, glaring at Rico one last time before turning my back on all of them and carrying Sasha out to the car.

I gently place her into the passenger seat and strap her seatbelt around her. She hasn’t said a word, but she also hasn’t stopped shaking. Her eyes seem distant, as though she’s locked in her mind somewhere.

“Sasha?” I say gently, but she doesn’t reply.

We drive home in silence. I keep glancing over at her, but her expression is pained, and she won’t look back at me. When we get there, she walks slowly up to the bedroom. I follow her there, wondering what the hell happened to make her shut down like this. What did Rico do to her?

Sasha sits on the edge of the bed. I can see her body still shaking from where I am standing, leaning against the door with my arms folded across my chest, wondering what to do. I watch her for a while as she stares blankly at the floor.

I don’t know why, but seeing her like this really bothers me.

I grab the soft fluffy blanket from the foot of the bed and wrap it around her shoulders, hoping it will ease the shaking.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit,” I say, unsure of how to help her or why I feel I want to.

“What? No ,” she says quickly, looking up at me for the first time since we left the house.

“No what?”

“Please—don’t leave me alone,” she whispers as fresh tears begin to spill down her face.

My brows furrow deeper and I sit down on the bed next to her.

Shocking me, she immediately shifts closer to me. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her and pull her higher on the bed so that she can lean against me more comfortably.

It’s weird to see her looking so vulnerable. We’ve spent weeks battling each other in the house, messing with each other and making it uncomfortable, but now she’s asking me to stay with her, and she looks so scared.

She’s completely let her guard down, and this is a weird experience for me.

I sit quietly with her, holding her against me as she continues to shake.

“What happened with Rico before I arrived? What did he do to you?” I demand to know, because with the way she is reacting, I want to tear that man apart. I don’t know what happened, but he did something to her, and I’m fucking furious about it. I want to go over to his place and torture him before I put a bullet through his skull.

No one touches my wife but me.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

“Sasha. Don’t lie to me. How did he hurt you? Something obviously happened.”

“He really scared me, but I mean—it’s not that he hurt me, it’s what he said that upset me.” She shrugs slightly, trying to brush it off. It seems to me that she doesn’t want to talk about it. But I’m not accepting that.

“Then tell me what he said.”

“I don’t really want to—it’s not something I like talking about, Leon.”

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you to tell me what he said.”

She leans slightly away from me and turns her face so that I can’t read her expression.

Her voice is weak when she replies.

She takes a deep, slow breath, and I have to listen carefully to hear her properly.

“He threatened to lock me in a basement and torture me and it—it reminded me of a time when I spent four days chained up in a basement with no food or water, crying for help but being ignored. It was a punishment. Um—when he threatened me, I got reminded of that and I sort of—I guess the memory just really caught me off guard.”

“You were locked up?”

“Yes.” She nods.

I pull her closer to my body and hold her tighter. Someone has kidnapped her before, and she’s already experienced torture. I am not the first one who thought that this was a good way to get at her father. Guilt slams into me, seeing the emotional scars that the torturer left on her and knowing that I planned to do the same thing to her—that it was my goal all along.

She has stopped shaking, at least mostly. But her body is still tense.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the tight feeling in my chest.

It hurts me to see her like this.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m going to make coffee, then. Do you want some?”

“No, wait, please—don’t leave me alone. Please.”

Again her request catches me off guard. She wants me here. She is asking for me.

Of all the people in the world, I thought I would be the last person she turned to for comfort.

Looking into her eyes, I see no games or manipulation, just someone who desperately doesn’t want to be by themselves right now.

I lean back against the headboard of the bed.

She shifts closer, cuddling up against me, and rests her cheek on my chest.

Absentmindedly I stroke my fingers through her hair and stare at her beautiful face.

Whoever hurt her in the past, whoever locked her in that basement, I find myself thinking about ways to hunt him down at rip him to pieces. I want him to feel the pain he has caused her. I want to leave him scared and terrified.

I lie in bed next to her in the dark and she falls asleep against me. I could go now. She might not even notice, but I don’t want to. I don’t dare move away from her, because she’s finally resting, and I’m happy to see her more relaxed.

I shift my body just enough to grab the blanket and pull it over both of us. Then, holding her close to me, I close my eyes and start drifting off to sleep as well.

This is the first time she’s shared a bed with me. The first time we’ve slept next to each other. The thought thrills me in strange ways, but not the ways I expected.

I just don’t want to let her go. I want her to feel safe.