Page 14

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. I jumped to my feet and searched the room for a sign of her, but she wasn’t there.

Gripping the doorknob, I took a deep breath. Serena had never tried to escape, not once since she agreed to offer her life in the stead of her brother. I doubted that she would start now. I had to calm the fuck down. She was beginning to mess with my thoughts. Every fucking morning and night, she was all I could think of. I wanted to know what she was doing, how she did it, and when she did it. Even after I’d tried to stay away, and —considering how eagerly I’d jumped at the opportunity to fuck her yesterday— it obviously didn’t work , I still couldn’t convince myself to steer clear of her.

If this was what it meant to be obsessed, I was slowly becoming a pro at it. And that had to be the worse fucking thing that could ever happen to me.

I didn’t bother putting on pants. I walked back to the bed, grabbed my gun holster from the first drawer, and stormed my way out of the room and into the living room. She wasn’t there, but the hushed voices and the echo of ceramic and steel coming from the kitchen were indications of where she could be.

Before I crossed the doors, my eyes made out two figures arranging plates on a tray: an older woman and a younger one. I passed the threshold, and her name was the first thing that left my mouth.

“Serena.”

She paused, freezing over the tray like she’d been caught stealing from a cookie jar. Draped in my shirt, which stopped under the curve of her ass and did nothing to hide her smooth legs peeking from underneath, blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, and the heels of her bare feet were hoisted in the air as she stood on the tips of her toes. Seeing her like that, bent over that counter, made me want to take her there and then, in the hardest and fastest way possible, but the shuffle of feet brought my mind out of the gutters.

I remembered the other person in the room.

The older woman standing beside her was Klavdia. In one hand, she held a pan and a spatula while something, like soft bread, dangled from Serena’s grasp.

Suspiciously, I looked from Klavdia to Serena. “What are you two doing?”

Serena shared a nervous look with the maid. Then, quietly, she dropped to the balls of her feet, nervously dragging her hair and the collar of the oversized shirt to cover the red marks on her shoulder and neck. Spots that I unapologetically gave her with my tongue and teeth while feasting on her delicious body.

Her gaze flickered over the gun holster in my hand and lingered briefly on my boxer shorts before journeying back up to my face.

She raised her eyebrow and looked at me. Sighing, I then discarded the gun holster on the kitchen island and crossed the room toward her. Even up close, my little Pchelka still smelled like vanilla.

“Better?”

Nodding, she smiled. “Unfortunately, it’s not like we can do anything about the shorts.” I narrowed my eyes over her shoulder at Klavdia and faced her again.

“Come back to bed.” I lowered my lips to growl in her ear. “We have unfinished business to take care of.”

“Unfinished business like…?”

I pulled back to see the crimson stain on her cheeks and the naughty glint in her eyes. I fought for inner control, but I knew I was losing it—s he was making me lose it. I couldn’t resist.

In the presence of the watching maid, I wrapped my arms around the dips of her waist, groped the soft curve of her butt cheeks, and squeezed. Her shocked gasp hit my chest. “I still want to fuck you, Pchelka.”

Shyly, she reached for my fingers and peeled them off her backside with a soft chuckle. “Not yet,” she murmured sweetly and took a step back. She gestured to the tray behind her and retraced her steps to where I’d met her by the counter.

She motioned to the bread-like thing on the plate.

“I want you to eat first. I was making breakfast for myself and thought you should have some, too. It’s soufflé pancake and some weird vegetable and cheese recipe I tried out.” Grinning, she dipped her finger in what looked like sauce and slid it into her mouth. “It doesn’t taste bad, I promise.”

I opened my mouth, but she pushed further before I got a word out.

“But…but if you don’t like it, I made some waffles, eggs, and bacon on the side to compensate.”

The space she put between us was probably the most logical thing she’d done because, while the whole world could probably see the outline of my hard-on from where I stood, I could clearly see the picture in front of me.

This ray of sunshine, who liked yellow and black striped dresses, enjoyed baking and cooking, and sang in the shower when she thought no one was listening, who also happened to be my wife, deserved a man who was not me. She deserved someone who would give her the world and happiness, someone who would raise children with her and teach them morals and how to be good people. She deserved a quiet, peaceful life.

Whereas I….

Once our children turned thirteen, they were going to learn how to hold a fucking gun and use it, and it wouldn’t just be for self-defense. Fuck no. At that age, they’d already understand what it meant to be wary of enemies, how to wind the windows up when they entered a certain neighborhood because they could become targets if they were recognized, how to never trust anyone, and how to expect death always lurking.

Our children were going to be threats, the ones who snatched lollipops without apologizing.

But Serena didn’t know all that. She was so fucking innocent, it made me want to slap her or shoot something. The light in her eyes took me back to last night. As I watched her shatter on top of me after her fourth orgasm, she collapsed on my chest, skimming light kisses down the ridges on my torso, and paused when her eyes touched every small scar on my body.

She’d wanted to know what happened to me, but I wouldn’t tell her. And then those eyes of hers held mine with an immense wave of sympathy. She didn’t say it, but I knew in that pure heart of hers she wished I didn’t have to go through any of the things that had forged me into the man I turned out to be today.

Without any warning, she’d willingly kissed me, buried all of her unspoken words in the simplest gesture, and allowed me to take her the fifth time, even when I knew she was sore.

She could be a fucking martyr if given a chance.

While I could possibly give her the whole world, the world I’d threatened her with didn’t have happiness to offer. We couldn’t have fucking pancakes or bacon without looking over our shoulders. I was ruining her life, robbing her of a happy and bright future, and she didn’t even know it. I shouldn’t have fucking cared; I’d killed hundreds of men, rewired the destinies of men like her brother, and I’d done it without a hitch.

But somehow, knowing I was hurting Serena didn’t sit right with me. That knowledge twisted uncomfortably in my gut until it felt like I’d been fucking punched in the heart.

I should have stayed away and kept her at arms-length instead of planting vain ideas into her pretty head that I could be that husband for her. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to start now.

Turning to the side, I grabbed the gun holster from the kitchen island and spoke loud enough in Russian for Klavdia to hear. “Send a Blini and buckwheat up. I’ll be in my study.”

“A Blini?” Klavdia protested, responding in Russian. “Are you saying—”

“You know I am not a fan of repeating myself, woman.”

“Then, what should I do with your wife’s cooking? Throw it away?”

Rage was slowly seeping in, and it was taking everything not to blow up in their faces. “Feed them to the fucking dogs if you have to! Don’t fucking argue with me. Just do what I’ve asked you to.”

“The dogs?” Klavdia accidentally blurted in English, but it was enough to make Serena panic.

“The dogs…. What’s wrong with the dogs? What’s happening?”

I turned around to see my wife’s confusion. Her brows were drawn, and her smile was gone. She didn’t understand what we were saying but was smart enough to notice the shift in my countenance. Frowning, she walked up to my side, put a hand on my bare chest, and stared into my eyes. The blue in them quickly filled with tears, and her lips quivered when she spoke.

“Timur, is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? Is it the food? If it is, I didn’t mean to upset you by it. You don’t have to eat it. Just…don’t yell at Klavdia. I made her do it. Yell at me instead if that will make you feel better.”

Yell at her?

I wanted to fucking laugh as much as having her that close made me want to shoot myself in the fucking foot for putting that frown on her face.

Fuck!

I was fucked.

No woman ever had such an effect on me.

No one did.

Without speaking a word, I started to pull away, and her frown deepened.

“Where are you going?”

“Must you ask so many fucking questions?” I snapped. At that moment, that was not my intention. I’d wanted to do any other thing but yell at her. But seeing her eyes widen and watching her flinch pushed my reservations away. Sighing, I massaged my temple and took a step closer. “Serena….”

She held up a hand. “I don’t….” Suddenly, her eyelids dropped, and her words slurred. She stretched her arm behind her, tapping the air in search of support. “I don’t…I don’t feel well.”

Klavdia screamed when her legs gave way, and before her body hit the ground, I caught her in my arms.