Chapter 25 —Ravyn
He was keeping something from me.
Well, of course he was. We hadn’t reached that point where he’d trust me as his wife or even ask for my opinion on things. I wasn’t sure why, but I had a feeling he wasn’t stable right now.
He didn’t have to say a word for me to know that something was eating him up. Maybe it was the thing with the mole amongst his men, or maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, I wished I could help.
I didn’t understand why his pain affected me—I shouldn’t give a shit, I shouldn’t care at all. Lev was a monster who tricked me into marrying him for his own personal gain. I should hate him. I should rejoice in his pain, bask in his misery as he did in mine.
Maybe this was the universe’s way of dealing with him, of making him pay for what he did to me. The man ruined my life and turned me into a housewife. This was only the beginning of his pain; there would be a lot more to come in the near future, and he’d get what he deserved.
These were exactly the kinds of thoughts that should be running through my mind. The only thing that I should feel for this monster should be hate. And for a long time, that was what I truly felt for him. Hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.
However, that wasn’t the case anymore.
Had I grown so weak that I was willing to forget everything I lost because of that man? He put me in a state of misery without empathy or any form of human sympathy at all.
And now that he was going through a little phase in his monstrous life, I couldn’t even bring myself to smile at his suffering. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I loathe the man like I used to? Why was I so worried about his feelings?
Wait. I thought he didn’t have any.
I wished I could make him talk, make him open up to me, and maybe I could help.
He’s not opening up to you because he doesn’t see you as important, a voice whispered in my head, harsh and brutally honest. To Lev Tarasov, you’ll always be just another one of his possessions. Nothing more.
That’s not true, a different voice replied, calmer and smoother. The only reason he hasn’t told you anything is because he’s not the kind of man to share his feelings. He likes to keep things quiet and take care of his problems himself.
The second voice made more sense to me—maybe because it was the version of the story that I chose to go with.
Or maybe it’s because his cock is so good and you don’t wanna ruin your chances at getting laid again, said the first voice.
If someone said that to me in real life, I would smack them in the face so hard that I’d leave my fingerprints on their skin.
But that pesky little voice wasn’t entirely wrong anyway. Lev’s cock was so good, and I wanted more of it. But my craving for him had nothing to do with the sympathy growing inside me.
In due time, he might open up to me, but in the meantime, maybe I’d stop stressing about it. He told me it was nothing he couldn’t handle, and I trusted him, the same way I trusted that he was capable of keeping me safe.
Trust was a strong word, but he’d earned it the day he took a bullet for me.
***
I sat beside him in yet another Bratva meeting at a private casino downtown. The council chamber smelled of stale smoke and iron with a blend of whiskey and vodka.
A long oak table stretched almost the length of the room, surrounded by mean-faced men in impeccably tailored suits. This wasn’t my first time around them, so I was already used to their stares and intimidating gazes.
Lev liked to bring me along with him to these meetings, even though his associates made it pretty obvious that they weren’t comfortable with my presence. He didn’t give a shit about their displeasure and always did as he pleased.
Personally, I wasn’t sure why he always brought me along. Was it because he enjoyed showing me off? Or because he didn’t trust anyone else to keep safe in his absence? I hadn’t dared to ask yet.
Tonight, these men weren’t talking about territorial disputes or an enemy that they needed to teach a lesson. They weren’t plotting anyone’s demise or orchestrating a series of unfortunate events, like Lev did with my father.
No. Tonight, they were discussing Lev Tarasov’s incompetence.
I’d been silent the whole time, listening to their gibberish. They complained about how he was losing his touch and how the recent attack on his life was his fault.
A man was shot at by the enemy, and instead of these dickheads finding out who did it, they were seriously blaming him for being “vulnerable” to attack.
Are you kidding me?
“A breach in your security is unacceptable,” one of the older men said to Lev, his Rolex watch catching the low light. “Shots fired outside your casino. Come on, that’s a low blow, even for you.”
My brows rose reflexively, my jaw tightening like his words were directed to me.
Lev sat there beside me, radiating the silent authority of a man who didn’t need to explain himself to anyone.
“Lev Tarasov is not the problem here,” said another man, his gaze shifting toward me, slow and disdainful. “It’s the weakness that follows him around.”
My expression darkened, brows furrowing at his remark.
“She’s a distraction,” another Elder chipped in, his tone deeper and harsher. “A liability too.” He met Lev’s gaze and added, “You know what happens when leaders let softness into their home—or have you forgotten what happened to Valarian Tarasov? You two were pretty close, weren’t you?”
Who’s Valarian Tarasov? I wondered.
Whoever he was, he must have been important to my husband, and this Elder’s words seemed to have struck a nerve. Lev was pissed; his face was contorted in fury, and his eyes were blazing red. But before he could speak, my voice cut through the fleeting silence.
“You speak of weakness,” I began, my voice calm and unshaken. “Because that’s all your myopic mind could see.”
Quiet gasps rose from their midst, their faces etched with disdain. But I didn’t give a shit. They started it when they disrespected my husband and me. I was simply tearing a page from their own book.
“Unlike you, I was there when the attack happened,” I continued, my eyes shifting across their faces. “First things first—there were no shots fired at the Tarasov estate. Get your facts straight. And second, where you see weakness, I see strength and discipline.”
They exchanged hidden glances while they seethed in silence.
I leaned in, fingers tapping on the table’s surface for emphasis. “The attack was not proof of my husband’s incompetence. It only proved that someone out there wanted him dead.”
Silence.
“The enemy struck hard. Yet, he’s still standing here. Unharmed. Does that sound like weakness to you?” I threw the question at them.
The tension in the room was palpable, and I believed the only reason I was still breathing was the power of the Tarasovs. Plus the fact that my husband was in the room.
Congratulations, girl, you managed to piss them off.
I continued, regardless of the sneers on their faces, “You’re channeling your energy in the wrong direction. You should be more concerned about finding the man behind the attack instead of blaming my husband for incompetence.”
My words hung heavy in the air, a deafening silence settling in the room. I’d said my piece and gotten it off my chest. Whatever they chose to do with that information was entirely up to them.
A few Elders exchanged glances, their sharp expressions softening slightly, not out of warmth, but out of respect for my composure. At least, that’s what I thought.
Lev said nothing, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught the flicker of approval in the way his shoulders eased by a fraction.
Satisfied with the reaction I received, I leaned back in my chair, arms across my chest.
One of the Elders said something in Russian, and Lev quietly replied. The men discussed in their native language. And while they were at that, I sat in their midst—proudly the only woman in the room whose voice could command the attention of men like this.
***
Later that night, I stood on the balcony, the night breeze cool against my skin. Below, the city spread out like a blanket of shadows and lights, the distant wailing of a siren drifting through the air.
My manicured fingers wrapped around the railing as I drew a deep breath, eyes fixed on the full moon overhead. It hung heavy and bright, its ethereal glow silvering everything it touched.
I stood there under the moonlight, my sheer lace chemise clinging to my frame as I tried to process the shift in my emotions. The fact that I’d challenged those devils in suits simply because they disrespected Lev was something I still didn’t understand.
It was one thing to develop an unusual liking for him, but defending him in front of dangerous men was a completely different matter altogether. How did I end up here? How did I go from wishing him misfortune to helping him avoid it?
I combed my fingers through my wavy hair, rolling my neck in a massaging motion. For the first time, the chains of his last name felt less like binding and more like threads tying us together.
The scent of his cologne drifted into my nose, hinting at his presence. I could tell he was standing behind me even though he had not spoken. I felt his gaze linger on me longer than usual because he believed I was unaware of him.
“I know you’re there, Lev,” I said without turning to look at him. “I can smell your cologne.”
He didn’t respond, but I heard the sound of his approaching footsteps, slow and deliberate. Lev stood beside me, his eyes fixed on the horizon with one hand in his pocket.
For the next few seconds, it was silent between us, the city beneath buzzing with life. Not too long ago, each time I stood at this exact spot in the house, I’d miss my old life—my friends and the world I left behind. But now, I was starting to accept my new reality.
This was my new home. The sooner I came to terms with that, the better.
“It never gets old,” he said, breaking the silence. “The view.” He stole a glance at me.