Page 17 of The Bratva’s Innocent Sold Bride (Fokin Bratva #9)

The next few days, I was hardly at home.

I had a lead on Anatoli’s family in Russia, and even a picture of a man who was supposedly his brother.

It wasn’t much, but it was something after so long with nothing but dead ends.

Even though he seemed to be invisible, he’d been wreaking havoc, with three raids in a row, two of my men killed, and more merchandise lost.

I had shut down my storage units since they’d been compromised and moved everything to a warehouse that shouldn’t have been able to be tracked back to me, but within days of moving my imported goods into it, it was set on fire.

The man wasn’t just trying to steal from me anymore; he was trying to destroy what was mine. Thankfully, the damage wasn’t too great, and no one was hurt, but the arsonists got clean away, so there was no one to take my frustration out on.

Being out in my new territory, getting to know the locals, and sussing out places that might be lucrative to buy were also keeping me from home, which would have only fed the building frustration that had no outlet.

All reports showed that CJ was getting along blithely with her new pet, taking him to the vet, buying out a pet store, and going on multiple walks a day around the property with him.

If she was still upset about her latest attempt to try to cajole me into letting her take a job, she wasn’t showing it to the staff.

That was the most frustrating thing of all, having to deny her something she so dearly wanted.

But the timing was awful. Someone was out there trying to take me down, and everything that was mine with me.

It wasn’t just common knowledge that she was my wife; our union was still being celebrated on the local society gossip sites, wondering what event we’d turn up at once we were done hiding out together on our honeymoon.

If only they knew what kind of nonexistent honeymoon we were having, their sites would blow up.

Just like I was about to blow up when I got home, my damn laptop wouldn’t start up.

The thing was only a couple of years old, but I never did what it told me, constantly annoying me with reminders to update it. Now it was punishing me.

I had it held over my head, ready to slam it onto the desk when CJ trotted past with the dog at her heels. She stopped, leaning into my office with a look of horror on her face.

“Am I about to witness a murder?”

“Not if you leave in a hurry,” I said, putting the computer down without smashing it.

“This one’s already dead anyway.” I had caught a glimpse of her that morning, still in her bathrobe as she drank her coffee in the kitchen.

Her beauty never ceased to make me momentarily speechless. I waved her in.

She took a tentative step through the door. “Want me to look at it? I’m sure it’s not dead.”

“You can see a pulse somewhere?”

She snickered, plugging it in, opening it up, and pressing the power button with a look of almost rapturous concentration on her face. When it wouldn’t turn on, she tapped away at the keys anyway, telling me it had power, just wasn’t accessing its programs.

I patted the dog, who looked much healthier after only a few days of good food and constant pampering.

His room was decked out with toys, a plush bed, and he ate his food off a pedestal in the kitchen.

He didn’t whine anymore, and I suspected CJ snuck him into her room at night, which I didn’t approve of, but I wasn’t about to take that away from her, too.

When I looked up from Artem, the computer was on and running, the screen showing all my familiar icons.

“You’re a miracle worker,” I said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

She blushed, shrugging away my thanks. “It was nothing big.”

“Well, I didn’t have a clue what was wrong.”

Her head tilted to the side. “You know my degree is in computer science, right? I shouldn’t be wasting it.”

Ah, so she wasn’t as content as she appeared. I could see the fight barreling toward me like a train that had tripped its tracks and was powerless to stop it or get out of its way. “You just used it,” I said.

With a huff, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Anyone even slightly literate in computers could have dealt with that minor problem.”

“Ouch,” I said. “Now you know my greatest weakness.” It was a lie. She was my greatest weakness.

“I’m only saying that I shouldn’t be stuck here all day with nothing to do but play with Artem and take him for walks.

” She leaned down to scruff him behind the ears as if she was sorry he wasn’t enough for her.

“I’ve already ordered the first batch of furniture, and even when it arrives, the movers will do the bulk of that work.

You’re never home to look after, so don’t start with the good wife routine. ”

Her single-minded desire to work and my inability to let her at the moment chafed worse than nettles, and her words hurt more than I cared to admit.

“Then I’ll just have to be home more,” I said, trying to tease away the argument.

“Oh, don’t do me any favors, please,” she said. “At least not that one.”

My blood was beginning to heat up. “Do you know how many women would love to be in your position?” I asked.

Hadn’t I given her everything she wanted? She was free to come and go as she pleased as long as she had security to protect her, she had the damn dog, and complete access to my bank card.

“Then find one of them to be your forced bride,” she answered, turning away. “I’ve never been pampered, and I never wanted to be. It doesn’t suit me.”

“CJ,” I said, my blood boiling, but continuing to try to salvage the situation. “The reason you can’t have a job outside the home—”

“It's because you’re old-fashioned and backward,” she interrupted, eyes flaring and green as fine jade.

Now I no longer wanted to reason with her. Crossing my own arms in front of me, I glared down at her. “If you don’t have enough to do, you can start your cleaning schedule again.”

She snapped her fingers at the dog, who was beginning to cower under our raised voices, and stormed out. “Fine. You just proved my point, by the way.”

Not sure what to do, the dog hedged his bets and slunk away after her. Furious, I sat down, completely forgetting why I wanted to work on my computer in the first place.

Was it worth it? I could easily return her to her father. Taurus Ingenuity was still on life support, but my advisors assured me it could be turned around if that was what I wanted. Gordon was already ruined; I should let his hard-headed daughter torment him.

There was no way I was going to do that. Even through my anger at her for not letting me explain. Even wanting to shake her as much as I wanted to kiss her, giving her up was the last thing I would do.