“It’s not my fault you’re a pervert.”
A low chuckle leaves his lips, the sound flowing around my head, and then he ruffles my hair. “That’s where you’re wrong, Solnyshko. It’s entirely your fault.”
I push his hand away and glare up at him, trying to ignore his dick that’s a tad too close to my face.
He lets his hand drop to his side, his humor dwindling away. “Go get changed. I got you clothes last night and put them in the closet.”
Before I can reply, he heads to the bathroom.
My gaze lingers on his muscular back, his tight ass, and the strong tendons of his thighs that flex with every movement. The tattoos covering them seem like they’re animated.
Kirill stops at the threshold and peeks back with a smirk as if he knew I’d be staring.
I spring up from the bed and throw the covers down. It’s too hot in here.
On my way to the closet, I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger. The green jewel sparkles under the morning light. Kirill also clasped the bracelet on my wrist. I can’t help the mix of emotions that run through me. A part of me always mourned losing these two items, but now, I’m apprehensive about being back to square one.
Shaking my head internally, I text Maksim.
Do you know where Kirill is keeping Anton?
When no reply comes, I send another one.
Please tell me Viktor isn’t personally responsible for his confinement. That bull would kill him for daring to betray Kirill.
Another more grim thought comes to mind.
Don’t tell me…it’s you? Maks, I know Anton can be an asshole, and he had no right to imprison and torture you all that time, but you’re better than him, okay? Please don’t do something you’ll regret. Text me back when you get this.
My chest constricts as I stare at the screen and still get no reply or evidence that he read it.
Please be the better man, Maks. Please.
I leave my phone on the table and head into the closet. Sure enough, there are countless dresses, pants, shirts, and even jeans. All new and in my size.
Kirill put them with my old clothes that are still there. He must’ve unpacked the duffel bag I took to the basement and also placed the suits and men's clothes here.
My throat closes when I find my wedding dress hanging at the far end of my old clothes. The veil is draped around it, and the amateur crown of flowers I made sits on the box with my shoes in it.
An influx of emotions hits me, and I fetch the first item and then slide the door shut.
It turns out to be a dress with fashionable, long sleeves. But I’d probably look weird in it.
So I put it back and opt for jeans and a white T-shirt.
After Kirill finishes showering, he walks to the closet and abandons his towel in the doorway. I have to run out so he can change his clothes. He doesn’t seem to be apprehensive about getting naked any chance he gets, as if he’s enjoying playing with me.
After I leave the closet, he merely smiles and shakes his head.
A few minutes later, he emerges dressed in one of his usual charismatic black suits that’s tailored to his body.
I force myself to focus on his face. “Have you assigned Maksim to watch over Anton?”
“Who knows?”
“Stop messing with me. How could you do that?”
“How could your precious brother torture Maksim? He’s lost so much weight and all of his spark, I almost didn’t recognize him when he came back. Don’t you think he deserves closure?”
“You’re just inflaming the situation and making it much worse than it already is.”
“I’m only playing the role of a dark horse of justice. Nothing more. Nothing less. Besides, I told Viktor no torture. So rest assured.”
I’m not confident. He’s relaxed, which is never good news for whoever is against him.
“Now, let’s go. We’re late for a very important announcement.”
“What type of announcement?”
“You’ll find out shortly.”
He starts to grab me, but I step out of his reach. “You need to seriously stop trying to touch me.”
“Why would I stop touching my wife?”
“Your touch disgusts me, for starters.”
“Is that so?” He tilts his head to the side. “Isn’t it, perhaps, the exact opposite?”
I jam my forefinger into his chest. “You mean nothing to me anymore.”
He clutches my hand and is about to kiss the back when I pull it away. “Stop touching me. I mean it.”
Kirill raises his hands as if in surrender, but the gesture is mocking at best.
Is it just me, or did he become tenfold more infuriating in the span of two months?
The moment we get to the main living area, I pause. Everyone, and I mean every single member of the guards, stands near the door, led by the mountain Viktor himself.
Well, everyone except for Maksim.
Did Kirill really assign him as Anton’s guard?
I don’t have the capacity to think about that as I also see the members of the staff standing opposite them with Anna at the front.
Konstantin, Kristina, and Karina are sitting on the sofa, and even Yulia is there, crossing her arms and appearing displeased with the world as always.
As soon as she sees us, her expression changes to that of utter loathing. “What is the meaning of this—”
“Sit down, Mother,” he cuts her off.
“I will not have you tell me what to do, you devil. How dare you have your brute man bring me out here by force? Do you know who you’re dealing with?”
“I have an idea. But you’ll know exactly who you’re dealing with if you don’t sit down this instant. I won’t repeat myself another time.”
Karina shakes and inches closer to Konstantin as droplets splash from her cup of coffee. She’s always been this unfortunate mess of nerves around her mother.
I really hate that woman.
She’s vile, heartless, and has caused her own daughter irreparable damage. Hell, she did the same to Kirill, but probably worse. It would’ve been much better if they’d never had a mother.
Stop it. You’re feeling bad for him when that should be the last thing on your mind.
Konstantin grips Yulia’s hand, and that’s when she reluctantly sits back down.
I try and fail not to look at the guards' expressions. They must be shocked about the transformation, even though I’m technically the same ‘Sasha’ they’ve known for years.
“I gathered you all here to announce something of utmost importance.” Kirill’s commanding voice confiscates the attention of the whole room.
Even my own back snaps upright before I catch myself.
Stupid old habits.
Kirill slides an arm around the small of my back and clutches my hip. Shivers break out on my skin although layers of clothes separate us.
I’m about to push him away, but then he says, “Sasha is my wife. From today on, you’ll respect and protect her as you do me.”
14
KIRILL
Sasha has been actively avoiding my presence, touch, and company.
In fact, she could bag an award for being irritatingly consistent in her no-touch rule.
It’s been a week since she returned to the place where she belongs—by my side.
However, there’s no sense of closeness whatsoever. Yes, she’s here in body, but her soul is either scattered somewhere or she’s suppressing it until it’s almost invisible.