Chapter Two
Waking up the following morning, Anastasia didn’t need to reach out to know the bed was empty. Within seconds, all of last night’s memories came pouring back, and she groaned.
She had been convincing herself that the threat wasn’t real between them. Their first real conversation without Bogdan shouting one-word orders at her, and she ruined it.
Slapping a hand against her forehead, she groaned. They were talking last night. Admittedly, she talked a little more, but Bogdan responded with sentences. It was improvement, and then she had to ruin it by opening her big mouth and asking if her dad wanted him to kill her. Bogdan had gone quiet. She didn’t know it was possible for a blank expression to get even … blanker? Deadlier? He looked like he wanted to commit murder.
Sitting up in bed, she glanced around the room. Sunshine was already filtering into the room, and a brief look at the alarm clock on the side of the bed told her it was a little after seven. To her, she’d slept in. She was an early riser, usually around five-thirty, rarely six.
Anastasia shoved the blanket from her, yawned as she climbed out of bed, and made her way through to the en-suite bathroom. There was no sign of Bogdan, not that she was expecting him.
She had annoyed him last night. After she asked him that question, they had left the party so fast, and once they got back to his apartment, he had ordered her to bed. She’d wanted to refuse, but she figured she already pushed him enough.
She’d been determined to stay awake, only she’d fallen right to sleep, which had annoyed her.
After using the toilet, she flushed, washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and then splashed some water on her face. Pressing a towel against her face, she pulled it back and looked at her reflection.
“You’ve got to learn to keep your mouth shut,” she said.
Her reflection stared back at her, and she thought she saw a little doubt on her own face. She was not going to take her own advice. Living in fear of death was not good.
She growled, put her towel in the laundry basket, and then made her way into his bedroom. She couldn’t bring herself to see anything as hers. All the places she stayed belonged to him. She didn’t have any possessions. He paid for everything she had.
Walking to his closet, she opened it, and there were her dresses. She hadn’t chosen them. In every place they lived, there was always a section of clothing for her. She looked through and settled on a summer dress with short sleeves that nipped at the waist, flared out at the hips, and went to her knees. A nice pastel blue color. She liked it.
Changing quickly, she slipped on a pair of pumps, then made her way toward the kitchen. There was no sign of him inside the apartment. No notes. She must have irritated him last night. The coffeepot was still hot, and she poured herself a mug, then grabbed a bowl of cereal and walked toward the sofa.
She liked cartoons, but she found herself flicking through the channels. After going up and down, finding nothing on, she settled on the cartoons. Her mother used to love watching them.
Once again, she was flooded by overwhelming sadness. She missed her mother every day, but of course she was never allowed to talk about it. Her father would always tell her to keep quiet, and she hated it. Her stepmother didn’t like the constant reminder of the fact she was once the mistress.
She finished eating her cereal and was drinking the last of her coffee when the door opened and closed.
Getting to her feet, she held onto her empty cup and bowl and watched as her husband entered his apartment. He looked sexy. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his heavily inked arms.
“You’re awake.”
“I didn’t mean to stay asleep that long.”
“You clearly needed it.”
She followed him into the kitchen and cleaned up her dishes as he poured himself a mug of coffee.
He held a letter in his hand, and she pressed her lips together. One side of her brain was telling her to keep quiet and not say a word. That would be easier. The other side of her brain was telling her to ask him. To talk to him.
She finished cleaning her dish, mug, and spoon. She felt the battle raging inside her.
Just ask him.
Are you nuts, he will kill you.
So, you’re going to sit around wondering all the time when he is going to kill you.
It was a back and forth.
She went to leave the kitchen, stepped right back inside, and then went to leave again.
“Are you going to kill me?”
she asked.
The urge to slap her hand across her mouth was so strong, but she held herself back and just looked at him. She forced herself to stay still, to square her shoulders and accept whatever annoyance she had caused.
“Do you want me to kill you?”
Bogdan asked.
Not the question she was expecting.
“No,”
she said, frowning.
“Then I won’t kill you.”
“But…”
“What do you want, Anastasia?” he asked.
She clenched both of her hands into fists and stared at him. What would her mother do in this situation? Would she back down? Stand and fight? She never heard her parents fighting. Whenever her father came to visit, it always seemed civilized.
“I know my dad doesn’t like me,”
Anastasia said. Maybe she was revealing too much, but at that moment, she didn’t care. She had to speak up to tell him how she felt. Anastasia didn’t want to keep wondering if her husband was going to kill her, maim her, or what. She was tired of living in fear.
“I’m … I can’t imagine I’m what you would want in a wife. I don’t know what I’m doing. I should be quiet. I know that, but that is not what my mother taught me to do, and who to be. I can stand around, be quiet, and ignored—that’s fine—but I also know you’re one of the scariest men in the Galkin Bratva, and I think he wants you to kill me.”
She had no idea what she was doing or saying. Everything was just spilling out, and none of this was going according to plan. She felt so embarrassed.
Bogdan took a sip of his coffee. “Your father wants me to kill you.”
Anastasia took a deep breath and then smiled. “I must be crazy, because you have no idea how relieved I am.”
“You’re relieved that I told you your father wants me to kill you?”
“I know, it’s crazy, huh, but at least now I know what I know, and that makes me not insane, but I’m kind of a good judge of character, right? I mean, I know my dad wants me dead.”
She smiled at him.
Bogdan frowned.
“Why haven’t you killed me?”
Anastasia asked.
“You’re a strange woman, you know that?”
She shrugged. “I guess you could call me worse.”
She was currently still feeling relief that she was right about her father wanting her dead.
She hated the man, and had for a long time. Knowing her mother loved him and he treated her the way he did, well, she hated him because of that. Each time he left, and Evelyn knew he was going to another woman, she would cry. In time, she would stop crying, and the visits would get less and less, but she knew the heartache her mother felt and tried to deny.
“Why haven’t you killed me?”
she asked again.
It wasn’t exactly a good conversation starter but after three months, Anastasia felt it was time they talked about this.
****
Bogdan had never known another woman like Anastasia.
The women he knew would have been trying to figure out a way to escape him, not confront him. There would be tears, along with begging and pleading for him not to kill them. Anastasia just came out and asked like it was a simple question. Did she not realize her life could have been hanging in the balance?
Rather than be upset about it, she’d been happy. She made no sense to him. Now, she wanted to know why he hadn’t killed her.
“I don’t take orders from Rinaldi.”
She frowned. “But if you killed me, that would mean you were free, right? You’d be free to marry whomever you wanted. I’m sure you didn’t want to be married to me. Why keep yourself trapped when you could be with someone you like?”
“What makes you think I am trapped?” he asked.
“You’re married to me. Doesn’t that make most men feel trapped? You’re part of the Galkin Bratva. I’m Rinaldi’s daughter. Isn’t that enough?”
Bogdan smiled. “You listen.”
She shrugged. “Most people talk around me, of course I listen.”
“Then you know that currently Galkin wants peace between us. The streets had run red with blood, and I will not go back on my word. What Galkin wants, he will get, and if he wants me married, I will be married.”
“Is that why you haven’t killed me? Galkin’s told you not to?”
“I’ve not killed you because you haven’t given me a reason to.”
“I haven’t?”
she asked.
“Now you’re making me wonder if I should doubt you?”
“It’s just that I figured you’d want someone you like rather than me. We don’t exactly talk, and I don’t fit in with your crowd. I know a lot of the people at those parties hate me.”
“They don’t know you. They don’t know if you’re a spy, or if they can trust you.”
“But I’m your wife.”
“Which does not grant you anything. You are my wife, but trust me, there are a lot of manipulating bitches who will do and say anything to get what they want.”
“Do you think I am like that?”
she asked.
He stared at her and thought about it. “No.”
“Why don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Are you upset that I don’t consider you a manipulating bitch?”
She frowned.
“Why don’t you ask me another very important question?” he asked.
She was charming and that dress he’d chosen with her in mind looked stunning on her. It molded to every curve, and it made his dick ache to be inside her. He wanted to fuck her hard, right there and then, but had a feeling that would scare her right now.
“What question?”
Anastasia asked.
“You’re not curious as to why your father wants you dead?”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t like me. He has told me this, that he wished I had died. Trust me, I know. He has always wanted a son, and he considers me an irritant. He doesn’t like that my mother loved me, and well, the rest is history.”
Bogdan leaned forward, getting close to her face. “You don’t even know the truth.”
This made her frown. “The truth? What truth?”
Now, he smiled, then he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Would you like to know?”
He watched as she licked her lips, and there was that spark he knew all too well. Bogdan was very much aware of the fact his wife was attracted to him. They hadn’t been together since their wedding night. She must have been sore, and since then, he wanted her to get used to his presence. He was a monster to everyone else, but he intended to treat Anastasia differently. She didn’t look at him with fear.
“Yes,” she said.
And he knew she would like to know. Anastasia was not a coward. She didn’t go and burry her head in the sand when it came to hard decisions. She confronted them head on, and that he admired.
“Did you know your mother was a very wealthy woman?” he asked.
Anastasia frowned and then rubbed at her temple. “I know she had a lot of money. Actually, yeah, the country home we lived in belonged to her parents and was left to her.”
He smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’re aware that all of your uncles and aunts on your mother’s side, as well as your grandparents, were killed.”
He was going to look into all of their deaths, as he had a sneaking suspicion Dante might have been behind them. The man was a first-class sleaze. He didn’t like him. Dante was an opportunist and a charmer. Although, Galkin saw right through him.
“Yes, some of them were accidental, carbon monoxide poisoning, others were killed in duty to the family, and then my mom died of cancer.”
“All of that wealth Evelyn Rinaldi passed down to you and you alone.”
“What?”
Anastasia asked.
“Yes. Your father has been trying to figure out a way to take it from you. At first, he tried to position it, but it would seem Evelyn knew what your father was like, and put several safeguards in place.”
“She did?”
“Yes. The first being that he would need several people to witness you reading the terms of her will, as well as a secret letter, which would be handed to you by a man named Gustov. Do you know him?”
“Yes, I know him. He’s a friend of my mom’s.”
“Have you been forced to sign anything?”
“No.”
“Then I imagine your father is quite pissed off. From what I see, the only way he could get his hands on your mother’s wealth would be in the event of your death. Once you are dead, all that wealth goes to him.”
“You’ve seen my mother’s will?”
Anastasia asked.
“I have.”
“So, you married me because I’m a wealthy woman?”
Bogdan smiled. “I married you because Galkin asked me to, and he made all the arrangements. Your father approached me on our wedding night and told me if you were not a virgin, I had his permission to kill you.”
He heard her gasp and saw her eyes open.
“Would you have done it?”
Anastasia asked.
“And risk an all-out war? No. I do not follow the orders of a Rinaldi.”
She took a deep breath.
“I will not kill you. The only way I would even consider it, is if Galkin demands your death, and the only reason he would do that is if you turned out to be a traitor.”
“So, I could die anyway?”
Anastasia asked.
“Only if you intend to be a traitor.”
“What would I have to do?”
Now, he found her confusing.
“Do you want to die?” he asked.
“No, I want to figure out how to survive this. In case you didn’t know, I’ve been left in the dark about a lot of things, and trust me when I say this is scary. I have no idea what I am doing. I don’t know the protocols. I will end up dead.”
Bogdan didn’t want to change her.
“Then remain loyal to me, Anastasia. Be exactly how you have been, and you and I will never conflict.”
She nodded and then frowned, and he knew this conversation was not over. Did she even realize how refreshing she was?
“Wait, does that mean I have to go back to you grunting one-word orders at me, because just an FYI, I don’t like that. I prefer this.”
“What?”
“Talking. You know, having a conversation.”
“You’d like to talk?”
“Yes, and if possible, I’d like to read my mother’s will, and if you could reach out to Gustov and he has a letter from my mom, I would like to read it.”
“You know this Gustov?”
“Not well, but I know he cared for my mom. He was there for her when she needed him. He trained me.”
“Trained you, how?” he asked.
“I know some self-defense.”
She looked him up and down and then frowned. “Not enough to overpower you, obviously, but enough to know I could get away.”
Now he was curious.
“I will reach out to Gustov.”
“Please tell him Anastasia wants to see him.”
“You do realize I will not leave you alone with any man.”
She nodded. “I know. You don’t have to worry about Gustov, though. He’s a good guy, and I see him as more of a friend.”
There was that sweet smile, and he couldn’t help but trust it. She may see him as a friend, but that did not mean Gustov saw her as a friend. For all he knew, Gustov could see her as a meal ticket and manipulate her.