“Because she wasn’t my wife. You are.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Let me pull over.” He finds an empty street and pulls up to the curb, turning the car off. I flinch when he faces me head-on. “You’re afraid of me,” he says softly.
“I just … you killed her right in front of me.”
“I shouldn’t have. I realize that now. I didn’t realize you’d be this upset over it. But you haven’t seen much death, have you?”
“No. Never.”
“Your father kept you sheltered. Maybe he should have shown you what our world is like. What the Bratva is like. I killed Irina because she was going to kill you. She was becoming a problem, and I dealt with her. Now, she’s gone and can never hurt you again. Because I saved you.”
I keep my eyes glued to my lap. “How many people have you killed before?”
“I’ve lost count.” The way he says it so calmly and matter-of-factly is terrifying.
“You’ve seen a lot of dead bodies. Haven’t you?” I sneak a peek at his face and watch him frown.
Mikhail clears his throat and turns away from me. “I have. But none of that matters right now. I was only thinking of protecting you. Not how you would feel over seeing me kill another person. I didn’t think, and now, you’re scared of me. I don’t want you to fear me, Sofiya.”
“How can I not? You’re a murderer.”
“Deep down, you already knew that about me.”
I want to object, but he’s … right. I knew Mikhail did dangerous things. I can’t be naive right now. I’m married to a man who’s the epitome of dangerous. There’s still so much I don’t know about him, but that is one thing I know—Mikhail is dangerous, and there’s no denying it.
And I’ve found comfort in his arms. I let him take my virginity tonight. I let him inside my body. I let him make me feel safe.
He did save me tonight. Irina was going to kill me, and he stopped her.
I take in a deep inhale and let it out slowly. “Is there anything else I need to know about you?”
He doesn’t answer for a long time. Finally, “No,” he says and restarts the car. For some reason, I don’t think he’s being entirely truthful. I know about Natasha, his dead wife. I know he’s killed people. I know he’s the ruler of a powerful, dangerous organization.
And I still feel like he’s keeping something from me.
Mikhail has demanded I give him all of myself, and I have. But I don’t think he’s extending the same courtesy to me. I think Mikhail is keeping something from me, and it makes the small distance between us in the car feel miles wide.
Mikhail takes me into the bathroom the moment we get home. “Let me clean that up for you,” he says, taking out a first aid box from under the counter. I wince when he presses an alcoholic rub against my cut.
“It’s not deep,” he says. “You won’t need stitches. Just a bandage.”
I hold still as his fingers place the bandage on my wound. He could easily wrap his hands around my throat and strangle me to death, and then I’d be like Irina—dead, killed by Mikhail.
No. Mikhail doesn’t want me dead. He’s said so himself. I’m safe with him. So, why do I want to bury myself in his chest and run away from him at the same time? He’s my protector.
He’s also my enemy.
But I still want to be with him. None of this makes sense.
Mikhail trails his fingers along my neck, drawing goosebumps up my skin. I let out a slow exhale when he kisses my bandage. “You’ll be all right.” I’m not sure if he means my wound or my mental state.
“Hold me,” I whisper, clinging to his shirt.
Mikhail doesn’t hesitate to wrap me in his arms. “You’re safe with me, Sofiya.”
I know he’s right. But I also know the world we live in is vicious, one where parents are taken from their kids, women are forced into marriages, and murder happens without a blink of an eye. Being with Mikhail inherently puts me in danger.
Despite knowing all this, I sink deeper into his arms and stay like that for a long time.
I stand in the closet, staring down at the dress I wore. It’s so small. I think I forgot it was so small. I hiss as I slip my pajama pants on. My body is sore from Mikhail taking me. He didn’t hold back at all. Mikhail wanted to claim me before a crowd of people, and he did exactly that.
I step into our empty bedroom once in my pajamas. Mikhail is downstairs dealing with the Irina situation. Even though he owns most of Moscow, murder is still murder. He can't risk getting into trouble.
So, that leaves me alone tonight.
The tears hit me. The next thing I know, I’m curled into a ball, bawling my eyes out. I had a lot of firsts happen tonight. First time going to a BDSM club. First time having sex. And first time watching a murder. Normally, firsts are exciting, but I just feel drained.
I miss my mother more than anything right now. She would hold me and sing to me whenever I was upset. It didn’t matter what was going on with her. She would be there for me no matter what.
Without even realizing what my body’s doing, I get up, walk to Vik’s room, and knock on the door. It’s well past midnight by now, so I have to knock harder for Vik to hear me. Eventually, she opens the door.
“Sofiya.” Her eyes widen. “What …”
I can’t even speak as I cry harder. The tears just won’t stop.
“Come here.” She pulls me into a hug and runs her hand up and down my hair, just like our mother did. I know comforting someone isn’t easy for Vik. She’s not exactly the most empathetic person. But she’s making the effort for me, which just makes me cry harder.
