Chapter 13 – Marielle
I woke up as Mrs. Yezhov.
The title tasted like poison on my tongue and sat heavily in my stomach.
I had imagined that the first time I’d wear the ‘Mrs.’ tag would be so thrilling. I had thought I would be filled with love for my husband, whoever he was. I had imagined that I would wake up cocooned in his arms, smiling shyly at him as we shared the memories of our explosive night.
Well, now I felt anything but bliss.
I wasn’t in love with my captor-turned-husband. Yes, maybe there were stupid, tingly sensations here and there, but I was definitely not attracted to him. I didn’t feel any real pull toward him.
What was I expecting?
Our marriage was one of utter inconvenience—a necessity to save my life. It didn’t exactly follow the meet, fall in love, go down on one knee, and live happily forever narrative.
It was a unique standard in and of itself, just like Eduard.
Thinking of which, I had braced myself for a far-reaching claiming by him, but he surprised me by keeping some sort of distance.
Instead of tearing into me and invading my space as my new husband, he let me stew before and during the whole court wedding process.
Not that he totally stayed away, though. Still, I was surprised.
After all, he’s a criminal authority; he must be used to just taking whatever he wants.
I looked over to his side of the bed, only to find an empty space.
Of course, he was at work, wherever that was.
A soft shudder moved through my body as I remembered the kiss we shared last night.
Our first kiss.
Which shouldn’t mean anything, considering we weren’t really a couple. But it did.
The hunger and want he poured into the kiss was undeniable. I loved the feel of his hand on my waist, the hardness of his body against mine as his tongue explored.
And he said he would wait before making love to me.
Even men of moral standing wouldn’t have any reason to wait after marriage. What kind of crime boss waited for ‘when the time is right?’
Freshening up in his bathroom was a lavish experience.
I felt like a highly valued guest in a seven-star hotel; the fittings beat those of the former room I occupied, hands down.
From the gray double sinks that sat atop sturdy drawers to the massive bath and the shower with a Jacuzzi I wasn’t sure I knew how to operate, the white-walled bathroom was high-class.
As I found my way to the kitchen, I noticed that the guards who used to look me square in the face, including Ruslan, now lowered their gaze. It was like I had become bigger overnight.
Another good thing that comes with being associated with a powerful man, I guess.
I loved the new feel of power. It made me feel less invisible.
I felt like I had something that made them look away instead of staring or even challenging me.
I felt dangerous.
Like I should not be crossed. And I loved every bit of it.
It was a feeling I wouldn’t want to do away with.
“Good morning, Mrs. Yezhov,” Sofia practically sang as she set eyes on me at the kitchen entrance.
I was about to respond when Agatha joined her across the island.
“Good morning, latest bride,” she greeted, beaming.
“Good morning. Can we stop with the titles and all? I’m still every bit of the Marielle you saw yesterday.” Remembering ‘yesterday’ was, in fact, my wedding day, I added, “Or the day before.”
“Not allowed, Mrs. Yezhov,” Sofia remarked, carrying a full tray toward the refrigerator.
“I’ve heard you,” Agatha replied, her voice lowering, “So, how was it?”
“What? You were at the courthouse with us, weren’t you?”
“Last night,” she clarified.
“Oh,” I muttered, my chuckle not sounding dismissive enough.
Why are my cheeks heating up right now?
“I thought you’d still be in bed, you know…after…” she went on, her eyebrows wiggling.
“After what exactly? We’re still two strangers,” I dropped, walking over to the fruit bowl to pick an apple.
“Yeah, but you both are not unaffected by each other,” Agatha persisted, coming behind me.
“What does that mean now?” I inquired, rolling my eyes.
“You and Sir Eduard have…chemistry. I saw it yesterday.”
I laughed out loud this time.
“You saw wrong. There is nothing like that between us.”
“So, nothing really happened yesterday? It doesn’t matter; it’ll happen. I know it.”
“I woke up hungry. Let’s talk about that.”
“Okay, Mrs. Yezhov.”
***
Something had changed between Eduard and me.
He had done a full 360-degree turn, I could feel it.
And it was weirdly ironic, thinking of how I thought we had turned from being an unconventional couple to being…
maybe friends. He had called me baby, and then we ate together, learning small things about each other.
After that, however, he became distant. He was even more closed off than he was before the whole Lucien attack thing. We barely talked the next day.
I screwed my eyes shut as he arrived late at night. The sound of his shuffling around went on for just a few minutes before he collapsed on the bed. He was beside me physically, but it felt like we were worlds apart from each other.
I shouldn’t even notice it; it’s not like we mean anything to each other.
But, as unnerving as it was, I noticed.
I had liked the feeling of doing something as simple as eating together. I replayed the sound of his voice when he pronounced my full name and when he called me baby. I still couldn’t forget that second kiss.
The space between us ached, and I hated it. I hated that I hated it.
It frustrated me to no end that I wanted to kiss the stress evident in his heavy breaths away. It was crazy that I wanted his touch; I wanted him to roll over and put his arms on me.
I hated him for the confusion he wreaked on my mind with his stupid, endearing, and then distant actions.
***
With each passing day, the study was becoming more of a safe haven. I could say the same for the kitchen had Agatha and Sofia not been bent on reminding me of my marital status every time. I wished they were as indifferent as Mila, sometimes.
The two guards Eduard had ‘assigned’ to me weren’t as invasive as I thought, a fact I was grateful for. They just stood at a distance and moved whenever I moved a finger. As I went into the study, they followed me but flanked the entrance door.
I was halfway into the book I was reading when I heard the study door open.
While a part of me wanted it to be Eduard, a part of me prayed it wasn’t him.
The black mane of hair I spotted when I peeked from the corner I sat in told me it wasn’t Eduard.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were here,” Ruslan confessed.
“It’s fine. I didn’t think you were within the house, either.”
“Yes, I wasn’t. We…the boss and I…left the warehouse early. He’s upstairs, too.”
“Hm. Good,” I mumbled, eyes back on my book.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. You’re my boss’s wife. You just sound different, and I know it happens sometimes when a newly married couple begins to annoy each other.”
I chuckled before answering.
“I’m okay. And it’s okay that you asked. I mean, you’re the only one I can call a friend among his men.”
“Please, you shouldn’t call me that. I can’t be friends with my boss’s wife. It’s wrong. And even punishable,” he revealed, a small laugh leaving his lips.
“Oh, sounds like a high-class crime.”
“It really is. But is everything okay?”
“Yeah. As good as can be,” I answered, shrugging. “Are you in a relationship? I mean, I’m just wondering if normal things like love and marriage are so abnormal here. Excluding Agatha, of course.”
He scratched the back of his head.
“I’m married, actually.”
“Wow! I never would have imagined.”
“Yes, I understand. But a few of us are married or in a relationship. So, no, it’s not considered abnormal to have someone.”
I nodded in understanding.
But then, another question popped up.
“So, are you different with her? Or are you the same merciless Mafia man at home? Is there even a difference?”
“I’m not merciless with her,” he disclosed.
“But I’m not as soft as the other guy, too.
She’s like a part of me, so it’s not about sweet feelings all the time; it’s about doing anything to keep her happy and comfortable.
It’s not about being different or having different sides; it’s about how much I’m okay with letting her see of me.
We’ve been together for about six years, married for three, so it didn’t just happen at once. ”
“I get that.”
He wasn’t wrong there. People didn’t just become good friends overnight.
But something told me that wasn’t the issue with Eduard. It wasn’t just time; he was actively pulling away.
Or am I simply jumping to conclusions?
***
After almost overstuffing my stomach with a late lunch, I went to the study to get a book for bed.
That was when I heard the faint sounds of music floating across the hallway. Following the sound, I wasn’t surprised it came from the room with the musical instruments.
The open space between the double doors was much tinier than the last time, but it was enough for me to see who was playing the piano.
Eduard.
He played with that same attention, as if the piano were a friend he shared secrets with. His head made the slightest movements as the melodious sound filled the room.
Maybe he did share secrets with the instrument. Maybe each key and note was an encrypted letter about the musings of his impenetrable heart. The possibility made me itch to get closer to him. To ask him things and hear him pour his heart out to me.
Assuming we talked.
The only form of connection we had was the brief, charged moments between us. Our bodies did more conversation than we did, really.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He’s distancing himself from me; that’s enough for me to stay away.
I left.
Then, hours later, when he was locked away in his office, I went back to the piano room. I gave in to the temptation of pressing the keys.
Memories of playing the grand piano back at my parents’ house came alive as I played nothing in particular. I could feel the flow of music move through me, but my rustiness was audible in the sounds the piano made.
I opened Eduard’s notes and thought of trying some of what he had arranged, but I stopped myself.
I sat there for a moment, just staring at the instrument, before leaving the room.
***
It had been days since Eduard and I saw eye to eye. He left before I woke up and mostly came back when I was asleep. I might have believed that I was overthinking it and he was just very busy at work if he hadn’t locked himself in his home office whenever he arrived early.
It was upsetting that he made me feel like I was at his mercy. I wasn’t. The urge to show him that he didn’t really have so much control was strong inside me. I didn’t like the way he was the only one affecting me.
I’d broken his composure before; I could do it again.
I made sure not to go into the bedroom until he had arrived. Then I went in and found him in the walk-in closet, hanging his suit.
I sashayed toward him, and he watched, his expression unreadable. My fingers unhooked the tiny straps of my slip dress, letting it fall to the floor.
I looked up at him, saw his eyes move over my body, which was covered in a matching maroon bra and panties with that tight restraint. His jaw twitched once, but he didn’t move. But he wasn’t unaffected either. I casually picked up the dress and went into the bathroom.
***
Two nights after my seduction attempt, I decided to do it again. The controlled but visible look of annoyance on his face was what I counted on. It would make me feel better to see him struggle again. It was the least I could do.
So I skipped the bra as I wore one of my snug crop tops. I ditched my joggers for a pair of cotton shorts that could almost pass for booty shorts.
I didn’t have to wait for too long before he got back.
As he approached, I stood and walked oh-so-casually toward him, my eyes on the door like I was just stepping out.
But, instead of letting me walk past, his hands grabbed my waist. He shoved me against the wall, his eyes burning with lust.
My taunting remark died on my tongue as his lips collided against mine. The kiss was rough, our lips, tongues, and teeth communicating in a foreign language. His chest pressed against my nipples, and I moaned into the kiss.
“You asked for this,” he bit out when we pulled apart.
His hands sent the fancy buttons on the crop top flying as his lips moved to the swell of my breasts.
My fingers laced themselves in his soft hair as he squeezed my breasts through the fabric of my bra.
Another moan left my lips when his fingers circled my nipples as his mouth nibbled on the skin of my neck.
His hand roamed downward, and my feet practically left the floor when he rubbed the wet lace of my panties. I tugged harshly at the hair on the back of his neck as his finger shifted my panties to the side and circled my clit once.
Every part of me throbbed as he repeated it.
With his lips on mine again, he slipped a finger into me. I let out a weak cry as he started moving inside me, his thumb flicking my clit. I tugged his hair harder, and another finger joined. He continued to fingerfuck me as I moaned into the wet kiss.
My breath quickened as my insides began to tighten. The insanely pleasurable feeling swelled in me like a balloon, and then, I shattered. My legs shook beneath me as I got to the peak.
Eduard broke the kiss, but his fingers didn’t stop fucking me.
Not when wetness spread across my inner thighs. Not when his movements began to make a squishy sound that our rugged breaths couldn’t cover.
He didn’t stop fucking me with his fingers until I felt myself chasing another high. My chest heaved as the sweet feeling exploded in me again. I came with a loud moan, my legs limp. He held me against him as my breathing returned to normal.
The pure lust that danced in his eyes as he looked at me made my head swim.
Then it was gone. The curtain was dropped.