CHAPTER 28
Gavril
I twirled the ice in my glass, debating whether or not to have another drink. We were still hours away from LAX. Naomi was sleeping in the chair across from me, but I couldn’t shut my body down.
Hell, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since we had returned from the Mariinsky, and my body was starting to feel it. It was funny. Every time I returned to St. Petersburg, I wanted nothing but to leave. But each time I decided to leave, I wanted nothing more than to stay.
This time would be no different. And there was no way I could ignore the growing tension that awaited me back in the States.
The shipment was due at the docks soon, and I wanted to be there to hand it off to the brigadiers, to show them that I was serious about bringing them to my side and the lengths that I was willing to go to ensure their loyalty.
I couldn’t trust anyone else with that shipment. Too many things had happened over the last few months for me to hand it off to anyone.
So, I was taking Naomi home. I didn’t think she was too happy about it.
She had shared a tearful goodbye with my sisters, promising them that we would be back soon to see them.
We, she had said. Not me.
That single word left a tightness in my chest that hadn’t eased since we left, and I didn’t know what to do about that.
Looking over, I couldn’t help smiling as I heard Naomi let out a soft snore as she slept. She was fucking gorgeous, wearing the diamonds I had refused to let her take off and covered under the blanket I had draped over her hour ago. I was glad that she was getting some rest, but deep down, I wanted to see her smile, to know I hadn’t fucked anything up with my distancing.
She hadn’t given up herself. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what she had done in the shower the other night. She was trying to close the gap between us, to pull me back into the fray.
And for a moment, it had worked. I hadn’t wanted anything other than her hands on my body, the soft look in her eyes that told me she gave a damn.
She was soothing the beast inside me, making me feel like I fucking mattered to her. She wanted to take care of me.
Was this what love felt like? I ran a hand through my hair roughly, my eyes on my wife, and reminded myself that the name on our marriage certificate wasn’t hers. It was Sveta’s.
But Naomi was mine. She was my wife with every thrust of my body against hers, every time she cried out my name, and every time her nails dug into my back.
My wife had charmed my sisters, making them feel like a family again after everything that my mother had tried to destroy inside of them.
My wife knew when I was fucked up on the inside. She could pull it out of me and make me beg for more of her love.
She made me fucking happy, and I hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time.
There was, however, something that she wasn’t telling me about this stalker shit. I should have forced the words out of her when I asked her about it, but she had looked so scared. And in that moment, the only thing I wanted was to protect her at all costs.
I didn’t know shit about this faceless man that I was up against, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere near Naomi. The moment he exposed himself, I would crush him and make him wish he had never heard of her name.
That was what I could do for her. Naomi had only scratched the surface of what I could do, whether in Los Angeles or in Russia.
And there was so much more that she didn’t know.
I hadn’t shared that part of me with her yet. It was the ugly side of my business, the one that would bring disgust into her eyes if she knew what her husband dealt in. I couldn’t imagine Naomi turning a blind eye to human trafficking or what I was going to do to those women, but it was part of me.
It was part of the business.
Still, I had tried the cold shoulder that my mother demanded, and it had failed miserably. Naomi was just too good at detecting my bullshit. Somehow, I had gravitated to her without even realizing it. With her, there was no pretending that I didn’t give a shit. Hell, she had no idea how many times I had watched her sleep over the last two weeks, seated in a chair in the bedroom with a glass of vodka so that I wouldn’t disturb her. I had watched her toss and turn, her hand reaching to my side of the bed while her voice softly murmured my name out in her sleep.
I had watched her withdraw from me when I started pulling away. I saw the confusion and hurt on her face as she couldn’t figure out what was going on with me.
Last night had been the final straw. I couldn’t—I didn’t want to be cold to her any longer and when she had climbed into the shower with me, I knew I couldn’t push her away.
Fuck the cold Pakhan. What would I have if Naomi decided to turn the tables, to become a woman like, well, like my mother? She would become bitter, suspicious, and ruthless. Like a wolf who must chew its own leg off to escape a trap.
I had seen it time and time again with some of the other leaders over the years, watching as their wives became mute dolls on their arms, their eyes lifeless and unemotional.
I didn’t want that to happen to Naomi. Once upon a time, I’d married her with a single goal in mind, but now, the options were limitless.
But only if I let her in.
The thought made me nauseous, and I had to swallow to force it away. I looked out the window at the endless open sky, and my mind wandered.
There was a time when I’d trusted another woman with everything I had. She had known all my secrets, my fears, what made me happy, and what set me off. She’d brought a smile on my face and made me forget the monster that I usually tried to be.