Chapter 10 Benedikt
Benedikt
The front door shuts behind us with a thud, and for the first time tonight, I can breathe.
Barely.
Sienna’s walking carefully ahead of me, her movements tight. She’s holding the back of her neck again, the same way she did when I first saw her after the accident.
Her car was a mess of twisted metal and broken glass, and somehow, she came out with nothing more than bruises and a sore neck.
Too damn lucky.
Too damn suspicious.
Too damn Nikolai.
The paramedics said it looked like someone ran her off the road, but there were no witnesses, cameras, or plates. Just a blacked-out SUV that disappeared before anyone could notice anything more, according to the woman stepping into my living room.
It would’ve been convincing if I were anyone else and hadn’t had a man tailing her tonight.
The angle, the timing, and the way the other car cut her off weren’t random.
The SUV rolled up behind her, brake-checked her twice, nudged her off the shoulder, then backed away and eased off like nothing had happened.
No headlights.
Clean.
Professional.
She claims it was an accident. A hit-and-run.
But I know my brother’s name is all over this, and I’m going to fucking kill him.
He’s not stupid enough to leave a trail, but he is just stupid enough to think this will scare me into backing down.
He couldn’t be more fucking wrong.
Sienna tosses her purse on the couch and kicks off her shoes, doing her best to pretend as though nothing has happened.
I’m ready to burn my father’s house down with him and my brother in it.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” My voice is much calmer than I feel. She went to the hospital—not because she wanted to, but because I demanded she go—and the doctors said she’d be sore and a bit stiff but make a full recovery.
“I’ve told you a million times; I’m fine, Ben,” she says exasperatedly.
“You’re still shaking.”
“It’s the adrenaline,” she mutters. “It’ll pass.”
I don’t believe her.
Her hands tremble as she sets down the car keys. It’s a telltale sign that she knows just as well as I do that tonight’s accident happened because of me.
I step closer, brushing a lock of hair from her temple, and she flinches.
“You were in a crash,” I keep my gaze locked on her. “Every poor bastard who ever got in my crosshairs has been in worse situations than this, and you—” I catch my voice, because the anger inside me is rising again. “You’re the one I’m supposed to protect. You could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” she grumbled. “You want me to fall apart? You want proof that I’m scared?”
“No,” I say quietly. “I just want you safe.” My hands move to her shoulders, steadying her just enough for her to feel the weight behind the words. “Let me check you, Sienna. I need to know you’re okay for my sanity.”
I can hear her shallow, unsteady breathing, and it does something to me I can’t explain.
I hate that she’s scared.
I hate that she’s pretending she’s not.
Reaching behind her, I press into the base of her neck to ease the tension knotted there. “Sit for me?”
Sienna steals a glance at me before taking a seat on the couch. I follow, sinking into the motion while Sienna lets me massage the tight muscles at the base of her neck.
She leans slightly back into me, and I feel the tiny flickers of hesitation mixed with reliance.
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since this morning.”
She sighs. “Are you stalking me again, Benedikt?”
“Yes.” I knead a little more before tacking on, “I won’t apologize for caring. And I won’t apologize for what I’m about to say.” My hands move to her arms, pulling her gently into my lap as she lets out a grumble. “I should kill them. Your father. Nikolai. Every bastard who put you in danger.”
“Too bad you’d break a deal with me if you went for my father.”
“Sure you’re not willing to change your mind?”
“Sure you won’t let me go?”
I want to laugh because she always answers like that, like she thinks her words can put distance between us and the situation.
But this isn’t a joke. This isn’t one of the stupid fights we have and then come together after I make her come.
This is blood on the asphalt and a blacked-out SUV that disappeared like smoke.
This is my brother getting cocky.
This is my father not being what he should be.
I press my thumbs into the muscle at the base of her neck again, feeling the heat of her flesh underneath my touch.
“Fine,” I concede. “You won’t change your mind. I won’t tell you."
Her jaw tightens. “If you have to do something, don’t tell me. Don’t hint toward it, either. And if it’s my father, I’ll do worse than what I did before.”
She meets my eyes, and for a brutal second, she’s not the woman who can spit back a clever line. She’s small, and real, and scared. No armor or deflections.
And she just threatened me.
“Alright, princess.”
She nods as if that settles it, but her eyes ask questions she won’t voice. Questions about what I’ll become if I let myself go. Questions about whether I’ll still be the Ben she knows when the dust settles.
I don’t have answers right now; I only have the certainty that I won’t lose her to anyone.
Not Nikolai, not my father, and not fate.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
I shift because my inner turmoil won’t mix with hers tonight.
“Because, contrary to what you might believe, I could’ve lost you tonight.
You can’t imagine the shit that has gone through my head in the past several hours.
My brother just tried to gun me down outside a club the other night.
Now, he’s trying to kill my future wife. ”
She hits me with a look about that subtle reminder, but still asks, “How do you know it was him?”
“Who else would it be? You told police that a black SUV forced you off the road. Another few yards, princess, and it would’ve almost thrown you off that bridge.”
Sienna averts her gaze. “So, now what? Am I a prisoner now? I can’t leave the house?”
“I never said that. Maybe you can’t drive.” Her neck snaps over to me, and she hits me with a cold glare. “I mean, not without several cars behind you.”
“Nice save.”
“Or I can take care of it.”
She shakes her head. “You’re going to make it worse.”
“Worse for who?” I ask. “For me? For them?”
“Both. I can’t be with someone who murders instead of negotiating. Who murders, period, Benedikt.”
I stare at her, wanting to argue and tell her that sometimes negotiation ends with a broken body, but the argument tastes hollow.
Also, we’ve passed that. I’m a mob boss, not the head of the Boy Scouts.
“Princess,” I hedge evenly, “who do you think I am?”
“Annoying,” she shoots back, and I smile. “Highly annoying.”
“Denial works.”
Sienna tilts her head and stretches her muscles while I continue to knead. “Alzheimer’s would be better.”
I stifle a chuckle. “Now, we’re being dramatic.”
“Am I? Huh. I could’ve sworn you were overbearing and a wrecking ball to my life.”
“Is that what we’re calling the bakery, princess?”
I hear an exasperated exhale next, and she shakes her head, “Just had to bring that up. I thought that was part of the deal?”
“It was.”
“Well, don’t you have something else better to do?”
“Such as?”
“Plan a war or something? Whatever you people do.”
“It can wait.” I fish my phone out of my jacket and unlock it. “Order us food.”
“I said I wasn’t—”
“Piece of mind, princess. I feel better if you eat.”
She eyes the phone when I reach out to hand it to her. “What do you even eat?”
“Anything.”
“That’s vague.”
“I’m not a hard man to please.” When it comes to her, anyway. “Don’t say I never gave you control.”
“Control? You’re giving me the chance to order dinner.”
She hesitates, taking my cell and hovering over the screen before beginning to scroll. “Fine. But I’m picking what I want, and I don’t want to hear any complaints.”
“That’s the point, princess.”
She searches for food while I massage her neck and shoulders. Normally, the silence between us is tension, but right now, it’s comfortable.
Sienna is safe in my lap, allowing me to touch her and comfort her and order food like we’re a normal couple.
This is what I’ve wanted, but not at the cost of tonight and what could’ve happened.
“Pizza.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “I want pineapple on mine.”
I stare at her for a moment, waiting for her to break character, but she doesn’t. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.” She taps the screen to make the point land. “Pineapple and jalapeno. My favorite.”
“That’s not pizza; that’s a crime.”
“Good thing you don’t follow those laws anymore, huh?”
I hit her with a look. “Funny.”
“What are you getting then, Mr. Traditional?”
“Something normal.”
“Aw, don’t disappoint me now. You’re a bad boy. I’m sure you’d get something crazy.”
“Pepperoni, extra basil, and garlic knots.”
“You don’t seem like a basil guy.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You just don’t strike me as someone who willingly eats vegetables.”
I lean back, watching her with a grin. “You’re profiling me over pizza toppings now?”
“Just calling it like I see it, Volkov.”
“Then let me fix your perception.” I lean closer and drop my voice. “I eat what keeps me alive.”
Her thumb stills mid-scroll. “People’s souls?”
“Try again.”
“Fear?”
“Nope.”
“Money?”
“I don’t eat cash.”
“Then I give up.” She glances over at me. “What?”
“Hard pass.”
She frowns. “What?”
“It’s inappropriate.”
“What keeps you alive?”
“As of late, yes.”
Her expression scrunches up in confusion. “Blood?” I just stare at her. “Well?”
“You.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “You think I fall into a category of food now?”
“I know you do.”
She swallows hard, pretending not to be affected.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
She scoffs. “No. I’m used to your brash commentary. You like to rattle me.”
“I could say the same about you.”
“Ha.” She shakes her head. “You don’t consume my thoughts.”
I reach for her, dragging her closer by her shoulders. “How can I change that?”
Her breath catches when my thumbs press into the base of her neck. She doesn’t pull away; instead, her body loosens under my touch. Her pulse beats fast against my fingers.
I focus on that, the rhythm and warmth with the way she’s always tense around me until she forgets she’s supposed to be.
“God, you’re annoying,” she mutters softly.
“That’s your gratitude?”
“For what?”
I squeeze gently. “For fixing your posture.”
She groans, leaning forward a little. “You’re bossy even when you’re pretending to help.”
“Who says I’m pretending?”
Her head dips as I work her muscles again. She sighs without meaning to, like she hates that it feels good. Her hair brushes my hands, smelling faintly like vanilla mixed with something musky.
“Have you ever heard of this thing called quiet, Benedikt?”
“From time to time.”
“Let’s practice that while I go through your phone.”
I bob my head, giving her the space she wants, but after a few seconds, I can’t help but comment, “Bold move.”
“Not really. You probably have some secret folder labeled Do Not Touch.”
I smirk. “You’d be surprised.”
She turns around to face me fully, eyes narrowing like she’s already planning it. “You don’t seem like someone who uses passcodes.”
“I use them because I don’t like people touching my things.”
Her smile tilts. “So, you do have secret things in here.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t tease me, Ben. I’d love to uncover your love for Pokémon cards or something else crazy.”
I can’t tell if she’s not just joking anymore. If she wants to see something real about me.
“You think my phone’s where the truth lives?”
She shrugs. “It’s where everyone hides things.”
“That’s your first mistake.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t hide things in plain sight.”
That makes her lips part. She studies me, her eyes searching like she’s trying to figure out whether that’s a confession or a warning.
“You know what’s funny?” she says after a few seconds. “For someone who’s all control and intimidation, you don’t scare me.”
“I never wanted to.”
Her smile widens. “Bullshit. You wanted me to easily concede to your plan.”
“Oh, I wanted you to agree. But there are other methods to make you change your mind. I’m still figuring you out a bit.”
“How about common decency and independence?”
“Not after what my brother just did tonight. I’ll allow you to work and whatever you want to do at the bakery, princess, but you’ll never be alone while my brother and father are still breathing.”
Her brows knit, and the teasing in her voice fades. “You can’t really think he—”
“I don’t think; I know. That accident wasn’t random. The timing was too close, and the damage was too deliberate. Nikolai was sending a message.”
“Jesus,” she whispers. “You make it sound like I’m a target.”
“Because you are.”
“Because of you.”
“Because you’re mine.”
For a moment, she just watches me, breathing shallowly like she’s waiting for me to take it back.
I don’t.
Instead, I lean back again. “The sooner you accept that, the safer you’ll be.”
Her expression shifts—part disbelief, and the other reluctant to accept it.
However, that won’t change.
She’d better hope my brother takes me out if she wants something different.