Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Calina
I still can’t explain what happened in his office.
That electric zap that shot through my entire body when he stood so close…
the way my breath caught, the way my skin heated, the way I stupidly wanted for one insane second, to feel his lips on mine.
We were so close. Our mouths were barely inches apart.
And some traitorous part of me wanted him to close the distance.
I hate it. I hate him. And I hate myself even more for reacting like this to the man who kidnapped me.
After I stormed out of his office, I stayed locked in my bedroom for the rest of the day. Maxim didn’t come looking for me, and I didn’t come out. I paced. I stared out the window. I replayed every word we said to each other.
By evening, my stomach is growling loudly. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast, which I barely touched.
A soft knock comes on the door. “Come in,” I call.
One of the maids steps inside, the same young woman who brought the shopping bags earlier. She has kind eyes and dark hair pulled into a neat bun.
“Good evening, Miss Calina,” she says with a slight Russian accent. “My name is Anya. It’s time for dinner.”
I hesitate. “Can it be brought up here?”
Anya gives me an apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, Mr. Orlov has requested that you join him downstairs.”
Of course, he has. I want to refuse just to spite him, but my stomach chooses that moment to growl again. Loudly. I sigh in defeat.
I follow Anya downstairs. As we near the dining area, I hear deep male voices, more than one. I pause on the staircase.
“Do we have company?” I ask.
Anya simply nods. “Yes, miss,” and then she quietly slips away, leaving me to face whatever awaits alone.
I take a deep breath and step into the dining room.
The table is enormous, a long, sleek black marble slab that could easily seat twelve people. Heavy crystal chandeliers hang above it, casting warm golden light over the dark wood floors and charcoal walls. The setting is luxurious and intimidating, just like the rest of this house.
Maxim sits at the head of the table like a king, looking powerful and completely at ease in another perfectly tailored black shirt. Two men are seated to his left. The moment I appear in the doorway, their conversation cuts off mid-sentence. All three heads turn toward me.
Maxim’s eyes lock onto mine immediately, intense and unreadable. The two men study me with open curiosity, one with a shaved head and a rougher, more intimidating look, the other polished and sharp-eyed.
I feel exposed under their combined scrutiny, wearing one of the ridiculous outfits Maxim bought me, tiny black shorts that barely cover my ass and a low-cut tank top that exposes way too much of my cleavage.
But thankfully neither of the men ogles me.
They keep their eyes respectful, which is more than I expected.
Maxim’s lips curve into the faintest hint of a smirk as he gestures to the empty seat on his right. “Calina,” he says, voice smooth and commanding. “Join us.”
He stands and pulls out a chair for me. “Sit.”
I sink into the chair, and he retakes his seat. “Calina, these are my closest men, Viktor and Dmitri.”
The first man, Viktor, is the tall and muscular one with a shaved head, a nose that looks like it had been broken way too many times, and suspicious eyes. He looks like he’s been in more fights than I can count. He gives me a curt nod, his expression openly distrustful.
The second man, Dmitri, is leaner and more polished, with dark hair neatly styled and clever eyes. He offers me a warm, almost friendly smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Calina.”
“Likewise,” I reply, trying to keep my voice civil even though I feel completely out of place.
“Let’s eat,” Maxim says. He’s freshly showered, his hair still damp, and when he leans slightly closer to serve food onto my plate, I catch a clean, masculine scent that makes my stomach flutter in the most annoying way.
“Is this enough?” he asks quietly, placing a generous portion in front of me.
I nod. “Yes… thank you.”
As we begin eating, conversation flows around the table. Dmitri tries to include me, his tone warm and polite.
“So, Calina, how are you finding everything so far? I hope Maxim isn’t being too difficult already.”
I manage a small, tight smile. “It’s… an adjustment.”
Viktor, on the other hand, barely hides his suspicion. He keeps shooting me sharp glances, like he’s waiting for me to stab someone with my fork. “Must be strange,” he mutters. “Being informed you’re getting married out of the blue.”
I meet his gaze. “It is. But I’m managing.”
Maxim stays mostly quiet, but I feel his eyes on me the entire time. Every time our arms brush or he passes me something, that same electric tension sparks between us.
By the end of dinner, I can’t take it anymore. “Excuse me,” I say, standing up. “I’m tired. Goodnight.”
I escape upstairs to my bedroom as quickly as I can. Once I’m alone, I brush my teeth and change into one of the ridiculously sexy sheer black babydolls Maxim bought me. I’m about to climb into bed when a firm knock sounds on the door.
Before I can answer, it opens, and Maxim walks in. I roll my eyes. “What is it this time? More rules? Or did I do something wrong at dinner?”
Maxim ignores my sarcastic question completely, closes the door behind him and leans against it, his dark eyes going over my body in the barely-there lingerie.
“What do you want?”
He walks deeper into the room and stops right in front of me. Without a word, he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a small velvet box. He opens it, revealing a stunning engagement ring.
The center stone is a large, flawless diamond that catches the light and throws it back in brilliant sparks. Smaller diamonds encrust the band in an elegant, timeless design. It’s breathtaking.
Before I can say anything, he takes my left hand in his. The moment his fingers touch mine, that familiar electric current shoots up my arm and spreads through my entire body. He slides the ring onto my finger slowly, as if marking me.
It fits perfectly.
I stare down at the ring on my hand, the diamond glittering even in the soft bedroom light. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen.
“What is this?” I whisper.
Maxim raises an eyebrow. “What does it look like?”
I blink, still stunned by how gorgeous it is. “You might lack basic civilization, but don’t you know you’re supposed to get down on one knee and actually ask me?”
A dark chuckle escapes him. “Doing that would imply you had a choice. You’re marrying me. This is your engagement ring.”
He doesn’t wait for my reply. He simply turns around, heading for the door.
“Goodnight, Calina.”
The door clicks shut behind him. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the ring on my finger. Even though he’s crude, rude, and completely impossible… he has excellent taste. The ring is stunning. It feels heavy on my hand—a beautiful shackle.
I climb into bed, unable to stop admiring how the diamond catches the light every time I move my fingers. I should hate it. I should rip it off and throw it across the room.
Instead, I fall asleep with my hand resting on my chest, the ring sparkling softly in the moonlight, wondering why something so wrong feels strangely right on my finger.
Morning light filters through the heavy curtains as I slowly wake up. I wipe a hand across my face, and the diamond on my finger catches the sunlight, throwing bright sparks across the ceiling.
The ring.
Last night comes rushing back. This is really happening. I’m getting married to Maxim Orlov. I lie there for a long moment, staring at the sparkling stone. A soft knock sounds on the door.
“Come in,” I call, sitting up.
Anya walks in carrying a tray, smiling politely. “Good morning, Miss Calina. I brought your breakfast.”
I blink, still a little disoriented. “Why isn’t it downstairs at the dining table?”
“Mr. Orlov asked me to bring it to your room this morning,” she replies, setting the tray on the bedside table. “He’s having a meeting with his men downstairs.”
“Is that so?” I ask, tilting my head.
“Yes, miss,” Anya replies politely. “When the boss is having a meeting with his men, he doesn’t like to be interrupted. At all. We all limit our movements around the house.”
“Really?” I lean forward, now curious. “What else doesn’t the boss like?”
Anya hesitates for a second, then begins listing the rules in a careful, quiet voice.
“You must not go down to the basement. Ever. The office is also strictly off-limits.”
I nod. “Yeah, he already mentioned that. What else?”
“You’re not allowed in the garage without permission. No touching any of his weapons or documents. You must always let the security team know if you want to leave the grounds. And… don’t challenge him in front of his men.”
She continues for a while, giving me a full list of Maxim’s many, many rules.
She also tells me that the housekeeper, Mrs. Petrova, has been given a few days off by Maxim and will return before the end of the week.
Her husband takes care of the gardens and grounds.
Anya thinks I’ll like the housekeeper very much.
By the time she finishes speaking, I’ve already made up my mind. I wasn’t asking because I wanted to obey. I was asking so I’d know exactly how to break the rules.
The second Anya leaves, I abandon my untouched breakfast. I head straight to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and then my hair until it falls in soft waves down my back, then dig through the shopping bags Maxim forced on me.
I pick the most scandalous set, a sheer black bra that barely covers my nipples and a tiny matching thong that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. The fabric is so delicate it feels like wearing nothing at all. Perfect.
I slip it on, take one last look in the mirror, and head downstairs. Male voices are drifting from the living room, low, serious conversation. I smile to myself.
I walk straight toward the open double doors and step inside with a bright, innocent voice.