Chapter 14 —Lev
I was sure Sergei wouldn’t forget that slap anytime soon. He crossed a line, and he got what he deserved. I would’ve punished him for daring to lay a finger on my wife. But the fact that she left her palm print on his face was enough to let him go with just a warning.
Ravyn was like a blazing fire, and anyone who crossed her always ended up getting burned. That was one of the things I found most fascinating about her. The woman feared no one and was always ready to fight back when she was offended.
I was very proud of how she stood up to a man nearly three times her size without fear. She made him understand that she wouldn’t be bullied or disrespected.
That right there was a display of authority; she knew her right, the power she possessed, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. Nothing turned me on more than a fierce woman in action.
Ravyn was different from the other women I’d been with, and it wasn’t because she was born into wealth. No, she was just naturally stubborn and fearless. Her wits had nothing to do with her family’s wealth. It was innate.
Most people trembled before Sergei, mostly because of his size and killer gaze. Not her. She showed no sign of fear and even took a step further, doing what no woman had ever dared. She hit him.
I was totally on board with that move because he started it. He provoked her, disrespected her, and left her with no choice but to put him in his place. Ravyn was not helpless—not even in the face of danger.
Nothing, to me, was hotter than that.
It had been two days since the incident with Sergei, but I still couldn’t get her out of my mind. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not because thoughts of her made me feel a certain way, and at the same time, I knew I shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about her.
The more I tried to get this woman out of my head, the more I failed. She was like a ghost lingering in the back of my mind that I couldn’t shake. It was both intriguing and disturbing. She was beginning to take up more of my thoughts than she should, and I hated that.
At first, I thought that I could live with her in the same house, sleep on the same bed, and still not be tempted to touch her. It was part of my plan to keep her questioning my motives.
The idea was to ignore her for as long as I could, making her life miserable just for fun. I’d mapped this whole thing out to perfection, and in my initial plan, my lover, Vivian, had a major role to play. Sex.
She was supposed to be my go-to woman whenever I needed to ease my tension. She was supposed to be my mistress since I had no intentions of touching Ravyn yet. Fucking Vivian was my plan to feed my sexual appetite.
However, things were starting to change in ways that I didn’t see coming. And the worst part was that it began on the night of our wedding. I had left Ravyn alone in the master bedroom and decided to review some files in my office.
But in the early hours of the next morning, when I returned to the bedroom, I found her asleep on the couch. She had taken a shower and changed out of her white silk lace. She was wearing an oversized polo shirt that barely reached her knees.
The unexpected sight had caught me off guard, prompting me to stop in my tracks. My eyes swept over her body as she lay there with her head on the armrest, the hem of her shirt grazing her alluring thighs.
I couldn’t leave her there, so I carried her to the bed and gently draped the sheets over her body to keep her warm. I pretended that day not to be affected by the sight of her thighs and the way she glowed even in sleep.
That was the first time the sight of her stirred something inside me. But it wasn’t the last. Ravyn’s presence around me was gradually becoming a temptation, and almost every part of her body was seductive. Her eyes, her cleavage, her nipples poking from behind the fabric of her top.
The plan to ignore her for as long as possible was becoming more impossible each day. Because of her, I no longer thought about Vivian or reminisced about our time together as I used to. I no longer felt the urge to fuck her or even kiss her lips.
Ravyn had occupied that spot in my mind so quickly.
Fuck.
She was living rent-free in my head, and I couldn’t stop imagining what it would feel like to kiss her. I always fought the urge to be intimate with her, even though deep down I wanted more than just to kiss her.
I wanted to fondle those breasts, taste her juice, and bury myself deep inside her. My pride wouldn’t let me go down that path. Not yet. How could she have such an effect on me without even trying?
Ravyn was toiling with me in ways that no other woman had been able to—not even Vivian. It was strange how I didn’t just want to taste Ravyn; I also wanted to keep her safe, to protect her at all costs.
Why did I feel this obligation to protect her if I didn’t give a shit about her? This marriage was nothing but a strategy for me to achieve my plans. But it appeared things were different now.
I might not be sure about many things at the moment, but one thing was clear. If I didn’t take control of this strange situation, it could spiral out of control faster than I expected.
***
I was busy in my study, reviewing some files, when a knock on the door stole my attention. My brows furrowed at the unwelcome distraction. Everyone at the house knew that I had a strict “Do not disturb” policy when I was working.
It couldn’t have been Ravyn; she lacked the patience or courtesy to knock first. If it were her, she would’ve just barged in unapologetically. That soft knock indicated that the individual outside was one of my staff.
This better be good.
“Come in,” I said.
The door creaked open, and a maid stepped in, her eyes downcast, hands behind her back. She greeted me in Russian before switching to English, her tone flavored with a local accent. “There’s, uh…there’s a package that arrived for you just now.”
I paused, my gaze fixed on her, wondering why she was reporting it instead of delivering it to me. “Where is it?” I asked, my voice low, tinged with a hint of curiosity.
“In the living room, sir,” she answered.
My brows furrowed in displeasure at her incompetence. She knew the routine; every package had to be delivered directly to me.
She noticed my annoyance and quickly explained myself. “I was going to bring it up here, but then….” The words stuck in her throat.
“But then what?”
“Miss Ravyn—I mean, your wife,” she stuttered. “She—she asked me to hand it over to her.”
My jaw tightened at Ravyn’s lack of respect for my personal delivery.
The maid continued, “Sir, I tried to tell her about your rules, but she insisted, and she—”
I rose to my feet and headed out of the study, leaving the maid standing there, confused. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the packages delivered to me were more threats than gifts. And I had a gut feeling that today’s package was no different.
I hadn’t gotten to where I was in the criminal underworld without making a few enemies along the way. And these guys would stop at nothing to try and bring me down.
Suddenly, that anger at Ravyn shifted to deep concern for her safety because there was no way to know what the hell was in that package today. The last time a package came to the mansion for me, it was the severed head of one of my most loyal men.
The bloodied head was a message from an enemy of mine, a warning that they were a force to be reckoned with. Of course, my retaliation was worse; for one life, the heads of ten of his men were delivered to his doorstep.
Let’s just say the bastard learned the hard way never to mess with me again.
Today, only God knew what was in the package and who sent it. If it turned out to be another head, Ravyn would be traumatized by the sight for life. I couldn’t let that happen; I couldn’t subject her to such a horrible image.
My footsteps pounded against the steps as I hurried down the stairs, hoping she hadn’t opened the package yet. However, I was too late. She already had.
Ravyn stood in the living room holding a bloodied knife, thick crimson liquid dripping from its edge. A hand covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide with fear. The unboxed package sat on the coffee table in front of her as she looked at it with a horrified expression.
She picked up a bloodstained note from inside the box. Her lips quivered slightly as she looked at it, as if having trouble reading what was written.
The scent of iron was strong in the air, thick and unmistakable. She stood there, frozen in place, color draining from her face.
“You never should’ve opened that,” I said to her.
She yelped at the sound of my voice, almost jumping out of her skin.
I had to say, though, it was really satisfying to watch the scared little girl inside her reveal herself.
Not so tough now, are you? I thought to myself while still maintaining an unreadable expression. At least now I had something hilarious to fall back on whenever I wanted—the rare image of her scared face, saved at the back of my mind.
However, now wasn’t the time to gloat. Someone had sent another threat to my home, and it so happened that my wife was the one who received it.
My blood boiled with fury, and I felt the anger vibrating in my chest. I bit on the inside of my cheeks, refusing to let my mask slip.
Quietly, I closed the distance between us and took the knife from her hand—the note too. I put them back in the box and faced her. “Upstairs. Now.” The finality in my tone left no room for debate.
She obeyed immediately but soon halted halfway up the stairs. Ravyn looked back and asked, “Who sent it?”
I ignored her, picked up the package, and then headed out right after leaving a stern warning that stung more than I intended. “Don’t ever touch things that aren’t yours again.”
I shut the door behind me and walked out of the building. I didn’t stop, didn’t slow down until I reached my car, parked by the fountain. I yanked the door open and got inside.
For some reason, I felt like the whole thing today was off—I couldn’t explain how, but I couldn’t shake it either. I examined the bloodied knife, which could, by the way, mean anything. The note was barely legible as most of the words and sentences were covered with blood stains.
However, two words stood out on two separate lines of the note.
Ravyn. Wife.
My jaw clenched at the realization that whoever had sent this now had their evil eyes on my wife. They’d noticed her and had clearly decided to make her a potential target.
These assholes were testing me. But they’d made a grave mistake thinking they could use her as leverage. I’d never had to worry about anyone because everyone I truly cared about was in the system with me and could protect themselves.
Ravyn, however, was not. This was uncharted territory for her, and it was my duty as her husband to keep her safe at all costs. She was in more danger than she realized, and that worried me more than it should.
This penthouse was a sanctuary; however, I couldn’t help thinking it might no longer be safe for her anymore. I could sense a storm coming, but no matter what, I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to Ravyn.
Not while I still had breath in my lungs.