Slavik laughed.
I glared at him.
He’d been so attentive the last few days. I hated how easy it was to enjoy his company. Nothing was ever a rush for him, and he’d been annoyed with me for hurting my arm. Sex hadn’t happened.
He didn’t even have to go out to work. He stayed at the penthouse, on a laptop and his cell phone, while I walked around him. Swimming was a no, as was working out.
My arm put a dent in my weight-loss plans. Slavik also didn’t help. He ordered takeout from a nice Italian place. Their pastas were heavenly and well, I’d gained a couple of pounds. My clothes weren’t tight, but my arm hindered me.
We were heading to Andrei and Adelaide’s wedding. I hadn’t seen a picture of the bride. She’d taken over from Bethany without a hitch. All I knew, the woman was a few years younger than Bethany.
The last place I wished to go was to a wedding. My own wedding had been enough of an ordeal to get through, but Slavik insisted. All the Volkov brigadiers were going, and I was going as Slavik’s wife.
“You know, this morning I woke up feeling a little sick. I told the doctor about it when he came to repair the stitches. He said it’s a little bug going around. Nothing to alarm myself with. I don’t think I should leave.”
“If he thought you were contagious, he would’ve advised me to keep you home.”
No matter what I seemed to say to this man, we were going to this wedding. We’d already taken the plane ride. I hated planes and being in the sky. Anything with heights terrified me.
Slavik offered me the window seat, which I declined. I didn’t need to be reminded for an hour flight that I was above ground. Now firmly on the ground, we were traveling to our hotel. Two cars were in front, two at the back.
We would stay at the hotel tonight, and tomorrow was the wedding. I was supposed to be a bridesmaid. This was all news to me. Slavik had blurted out that news to me as we got in the car. The dress waited for me to try on at the hotel room.
The last thing I wanted was to be a bridesmaid to a woman I didn’t know. This was Bethany’s sister.
I leaned back, resting my hand on my stomach. I’d thrown up this morning. The sickness had struck me hard. After some dry toast, I felt a little better. The coffee I’d made for myself set it off again. I ended up drinking water.
“Are you okay?” Slavik asked.
It was on the tip of my tongue to lie. I went for the truth. “No. I feel sick. My arm hurts. I refuse to take pain medication. I’m going to a wedding I don’t wish to attend. I’m now going to be a bridesmaid for a woman I’ve never met. Yeah, everything is great.” The sarcasm dripped from my tone, and I froze.
I realized who I spoke to and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
I chanced a glance at Slavik to find him smiling. “It’s cute to watch you panic.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s hilarious. You’re the first woman in my life to be honest with me.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Most people hate me, remember?”
“No, they don’t hate you. They fear you. It’s different.” I’d been hated most of my life, or not liked. Do not go down that morbid self-pitying hole, Aurora. I forced a smile to my lips.
“Do you fear me?” he asked.
“Sometimes.”
“You have no reason to fear me.”
“You’re my husband.”
“And I will protect you.”
“Unless you feel I’m trouble for Ivan Volkov. I know my value only exists while I play nice. If I cause you or the Volkov Bratva trouble, my days are numbered.”
“Do you have any reason to risk your life?”
“No. I intend to live a long and happy prison sentence.” I slapped my hand across my mouth.
“You find being with me a prison sentence.”
I winced. “No. It’s … I meant my family.”
“Aurora, I’m not an idiot.”
“It’s not a prison sentence, okay? I didn’t mean it like that and I know it sounded like that, but I promise, it wasn’t.”
I’d screwed up.
“You’re a guy in this world. You wouldn’t understand what I meant. It’s different for men.”
“Try me. I don’t see much different. You were ordered to get married to me. I was instructed to marry you. We both serve the Volkov Bratva. Our roles are different, but we’re the same.”
“You can do what you want,” I said.
“Elaborate.”
My mouth went dry. “If you wanted a mistress or other women, you’d have them. I couldn’t do anything about it. I could scream and get angry. You killed Sergei for kissing me. We weren’t having an affair. You didn’t see Cara as a threat. It’s why she’s still walking around. You get to do things. I … stay at your apartment. I have no purpose. I’m not allowed to go to college, or get a job.”