Chapter Eighteen
Elena
The marina always feels different at night.
During the day, the docks are crowded with crew members, tourists, and yacht owners who somehow manage to turn every conversation into a discussion about money.
But at night, the noise fades away. The water becomes calmer, the air cooler, and the constant hum of engines gives way to the soft rhythm of waves sighing against the hulls.
I sit on the upper deck of one of the charter yachts, a folder resting unopened in my lap. I finished the paperwork almost an hour ago, I’ve checked my emails twice, and even organized tomorrow’s schedule. Then I spent the last twenty minutes reviewing inventory I already reviewed this afternoon.
So far, none of it has helped with the way my thoughts keep circling back to the attack at the mansion, the dead bodies, and the way Leonid showed up at just the right time to save me.
Or the way his arm wrapped around my waist and hauled me into him. Because of me, he canceled his meeting and ran straight home without a second thought.
Maybe there’s a chance I’m not the only one of us feeling something beyond just physical attraction. Maybe Leonid feels it too, and maybe he…
I stop that thought before it can go any further, lean back against the cushioned bench, and groan.
This is pathetic.
Leonid’s not the kind of man who deals with emotions or love or anything even close.
I need to stop feeding my delusions and accept this for what it is.
He sees me as his possession, not a lover.
I should’ve gotten used to that fact by now, but for some reason I’m struggling to accept that he feels nothing beyond physical attraction for me.
Men in the bratva are usually attracted to any woman they can get their hands on.
The thought of Leonid with another woman flashes through my head, and my chest constricts with jealously and rage.
I think I’m slowly losing my mind.
A month ago, my biggest concern was whether a client would complain about a delayed charter. Now I spend half my day thinking of the man I should hate, fantasizing about him fucking me and being jealous over a hypothetical woman.
I close my eyes and tip my head toward the sky. The stars are barely visible above the city lights, but they’re there, twinkling steadily and unaffected by the chaotic mess in my head.
For a few precious moments, I let myself enjoy the silence.
Then a familiar scent of cedar, expensive cologne, and possessive male pheromones drifts through the air. I could recognize that scent even if I were dead.
My eyes snap open to find Leonid standing at the opposite end of the deck. I have absolutely no idea how long he’s been there, which is disturbing.
The man is six-foot-something and built like a tank. He shouldn’t be capable of sneaking up on anyone, yet he manages to catch me off guard every single time.
Clutching my chest, I furrow my brows and glare at him. “Jesus, Leo. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
His gaze sweeps across me, lingering on my body just long enough to make me self-conscious before returning to my face. “What are you doing here?”
I blink. “Well, good evening to you too, husband.”
His expression doesn’t change, but the muscles in his jaw tighten slightly. “What the hell are you doing here, Elena, and without any guards?”
Something about his tone immediately puts me on edge. His voice is laced with something that sounds incredibly close to panic…or fear. Both are disguised with his usual control, but I can feel the genuine concern rolling off him.
He was truly worried for me.
I set the folder aside. “I was bored and decided to get some work off my schedule for tomorrow.”
“And you decided to do that at ten o’clock, without telling anyone where the hell you were going?”
I glance at my watch. Shit, it’s almost thirty minutes past ten. I drove to the marina about three hours ago thinking I’d just check in on the inventories, reply to my emails, and head straight back home.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I lost track of time.”
His eyes narrow. My apology doesn’t seem to have done much to quell his anger. “Where the hell is your phone? I called several times and you didn’t answer.”
I reach for my purse, rummage through it, and immediately find the problem. My phone’s battery is dead.
Oops.
I hold up the useless phone, biting my tongue because I know he’s about to explode with rage that I was careless enough to go out on my own with a dead phone.
Leonid has been paranoid about my safety since the attack at the mansion, and while I understand his fear, it’s really starting to get on my nerves.
For several seconds he simply stares at me, and then he exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you were at the home office.”
I purse my lips. “Okay? I was just tired of being inside all day. Thought I’d come out for some fresh air.”
“I looked for you everywhere when I got home.”
Something uncomfortable twists inside my chest, and it’s not just because of what he said, but how he said it—with the low tone that makes it sound like he was truly afraid when he couldn’t find me anywhere.
It makes me want to walk up to him and hug him tight. It makes me want to assure him I’ll be careful and tell him my whereabouts from now on.
This isn’t right.
It doesn’t make any sense that I always feel the need to surrender to the man who dragged me from my normal life and pulled me into this mess in the first place. The man who threatened to kill my parents and best friend if I dared to run from him.
The man who defied all odds to get to me and protect me, a tiny voice whispers in my head. It makes the anger I already feel toward myself flare even hotter as irritation takes over.
“You tracked me down because I stayed late at work?”
His stare hardens. “You snuck out without telling anyone.”
“I’m an adult.”
“You’re my wife.”
For a moment, we both stare at each other. Leonid looks perfectly calm and in control, while I’m a heaving, frowning mess. I hate how he manages to keep it together all the time, and how hard it is to read him.
I push to my feet, and the bench scrapes softly against the deck. The calm I’ve been searching for all evening vanishes in an instant.
“You’re right,” I say, clenching my teeth hard enough that I’m afraid I might lose a tooth or two. “I’m your wife. Not your prisoner or a piece of furniture. I’m a grown-ass adult with autonomy, and I won’t let you take that from me.”
“You think this is about taking away your autonomy?”
The night wind whips through my hair as I fold my arms across my chest. “You did that when you kidnapped me. You don’t own me, Leonid.”
His gaze darkens and he closes the gap between us in one long stride. “You don’t need to like me, ptichka. But you need to come to terms with the fact that you’re mine. Only death can tear me away from your side.”
“Then you need to start preparing your coffin.” The words come out sharper than I intended, weeks of frustration spilling free before I can stop them.
“There are guards everywhere I go. I’m not even allowed to make decisions for myself anymore.
If I stay late at work, you show up and interrogate me.
I don’t want to live this way, Leonid. I’m not your goddamn property. ”
Heavy silence follows my venting, the tension in the air palpable from the way we’re both glaring into each other’s eyes.
Below us, water laps gently against the yacht, and somewhere farther down the marina, a buoy bell rings softly.
A flicker of an expression I can’t quite identify flashes over Leonid’s face, and then, in a voice that’s gentler than the evening breeze, he says, “I know you’re not my property. I’ve never considered you that way.”
My vision blurs as tears spring to my eyes. “Then stop treating me like this.”
His jaw flexes. I can practically see the battle happening behind his eyes—the part of him that wants to protect me versus the part that doesn’t understand why I refuse to let him.
“Vasili is out for blood,” he explains in a quiet tone. “I only have a few weaknesses, and you’re one of them. I’m trying to keep you safe, ptichka. The thought of you getting hurt in the middle of all this drives me crazy. I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“There are ways to do that without treating me like a prisoner, Leo.” I sniffle. “I know you mean well, but all of this is suffocating. I just want to live a normal life.”
For the first time since I’ve known Leonid, the walls he’s built to shield his expression crack, and there’s visible pain etched on his face. The same pain splinters through me.
Somehow, knowing my words hurt him is even worse than our arguments. It’s not what I intended.
He exhales slowly and drags a hand over his face.
“You think I enjoy this? You think I enjoy being afraid you’ll get hurt because of me?
” His gaze snaps back to mine. “I don’t.
What I’d enjoy is coming home every night to see your beautiful face.
What I’d enjoy is knowing you’re safe even when you’re not with me, because you’re the most important person in my fucking life. ”
His confession catches me off guard. It’s not a love confession, but knowing he cares about me that much makes me forget my next argument. It makes me forget my anger and everything else except the serious look on his face.
I know for certain that he means every word he just said to me. I can feel the sincerity seeping through my skin and into my heart.
Every part of me softens. “Leonid—”
“No.” His voice remains calm, but there’s a gruffness beneath it. “You saw what happened at the mansion. What do you think would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten there in time? Do you think Vasili will stop at one assassination attempt?”
I immediately look away.
The images are still there if I let myself think about them—blood on marble floors, bodies sprawled across the foyer, the smell of gunpowder hanging in the air.
My stomach twists.