Chapter 12 – Adrik
I barely slept that night. All I did was toss and turn in my bed, replaying the earlier incident. The way she’d stood up to Yelena was remarkable and really fascinating.
Honestly, I wasn’t expecting her to claim what was hers—at least not in the way that she did. Most women felt threatened by Yelena’s beauty and charm. But not that stubborn little devil.
She was the first woman I’d ever seen stand up to Yelena in such a bold manner. And even Yelena herself was left speechless. She couldn’t believe her ears; someone she’d thought was a nobody actually put her in her place.
Her voice echoed in my head: “Do you know who I am?”
Then came my wife’s classic response, the one that struck Yelena right in the guts. “What, your parents didn’t tell you?”
The moment she replied like that, I felt a rush of excitement, and something in me leapt with joy. Emika had roasted Yelena without even trying so hard. Her words were spoken calmly but laced with undiluted venom.
I should’ve been mad at her for ruining what my mistress and I had going on. But instead, I was intrigued by her ability to effortlessly destroy the affair in a single sweep.
Emika was a force to be reckoned with, and she proved that time and time again.
The wildest part of this whole drama was how she’d introduced herself as my wife.
“Oh, honey, don’t flatter yourself. You’re the other woman. I’m his wife!”
The shock on Yelena’s face was priceless when she saw the ring.
I guess I deserved the ‘fuck you’ she growled in my face before storming out of my office. I should’ve told her about my wife. But then again, I didn’t owe anyone any explanation.
This drama was quite entertaining, but the real shock was the truth I’d discovered about my crazy wife.
She was a virgin.
Pure.
Untouched.
Even in bed, I could still recall every detail of her face when I guessed her little secret. She was clearly uncomfortable and couldn’t look me in the eyes. Her lips quivered at my touch, and her hands trembled.
Her cheeks were red with embarrassment, even though I personally didn’t find anything embarrassing about the truth. In my opinion, she should be proud of herself.
I was certain that she was a virgin by choice and not because of the lack of opportunity. A pretty woman like her must’ve had thousands of men throwing themselves at her. Yet she chose not to let any of them smash.
The thought of her purity amazed me and even gladdened my heart in ways that I didn’t understand.
Unable to sleep, I got out of bed, poured myself a glass of scotch, and headed out onto the balcony. The floor was cool beneath my feet, as was the night air that brushed against my face.
The crescent moon hung in the dark sky, its ethereal glow silvering everything it touched. I stood on my balcony, eyes sweeping over the city sprawled beneath me.
The gentle breeze carried the sound of sirens wailing in the distance and the faint scent of fresh flowers.
I lifted the glass to my lips and took a sip, then closed my eyes for a moment. I drew in a deep breath, letting my thoughts float like a leaf. Emika had been running through my mind all day, and I just needed a break from thinking about her.
The problem was, the more I tried to think of anything other than her, the more the images of her face flooded my head.
Yes, we agreed not to be intimate with each other. But at this point, it was starting to look like we were only delaying the inevitable.
I gripped the polished railing, imagining how it would feel to teach her how to make love. She was inexperienced, but I had the remedy for that; all she’d have to do was surrender.
She was my wife, even if only on paper, and I couldn’t wait to make a woman out of her. I knew this feeling was mutual. She was attracted to me as much as I was attracted to her. So, it was only a matter of time before it happened.
As I considered the possibility of being her first, a strange fire began burning within me. No amount of scotch was enough to put it out.
I combed my fingers through my hair, my lips suppressing the faint grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Emika was mine, and there was no way another man was going to taste her first. No way another man was ever going to taste her. Maybe this was a sign of obsession, but I didn’t give a shit. She was my wife. Period.
The next morning, despite myself, my attitude toward her suddenly turned cold. I decided to keep my distance, refusing to let her distract me from work. Emika had not only gotten under my skin, but she’d also made herself the fire crawling through my veins.
Later that day, I asked my lieutenant, Sergei, to take her along with him to a deal. I was supposed to do that myself, but I had an important Bratva meeting. Since Emika had the brains to handle such a task, I put her in charge.
The instructions I gave to him were clear: Drive her to the location, but follow her lead.
It stung him a bit, but there was nothing he could do about it. I’d made my decision.
Thirty minutes into the meeting with my Bratva brothers, I received a devastating phone call. The convoy driving my wife had been attacked.
Time froze in that moment, and the only thing I could think of was her.