Chapter 21
21
W hoever said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks never trapped that bitch at Volkov manor. It’s amazing how many skills you can acquire when your very survival depends on it. I’ve already earned my acting chops, and now I’m adding espionage to my resume. My husband clearly has no intentions of opening up to me and sharing his secrets, so naturally, I’ve resorted to spying on him instead.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve passed by his office today. Back and forth, I’ve come up with mundane excuses to traverse the corridor, listening intently for voices from inside on each pass.
Something about a business deal in Chicago.
Another problem with some sort of shipment and seeking help from The Five.
A decades-old forgery in a death certificate.
The thick wool socks I’m wearing mute my pacing steps against the dark marble flooring, and I’ve dared to pause outside the door to listen in on a few of his conversations. Lucky for me, he has a habit of taking his calls on speaker. Nothing I’ve overheard thus far is particularly useful on its own, but the more I pick up on, the more ammo I’ll have in my arsenal once I’m able to piece it all together.
Roman’s office has been suspiciously quiet during my last three trips past the door. I briefly consider that he’s caught onto my game, but I risk another pass nonetheless, not content to give up on my quest for information to leverage. It’s a good thing I do– not only is my husband on another call as I creep past his office, but I actually recognize the voice on the other end.
“And you’re sure you want to pursue this?” Magnus’ distinctly gruff voice questions. “If there’s truth in it, there will be dire consequences for all involved, including your new wife. The power vacuum it would create…”
“I’m aware, father,” Roman interrupts sharply. “Which is why I’ll continue to remain two steps ahead.”
Goosebumps prickle up on my skin at his harsh tone, apprehension curling in my gut at the mention of me. I have no idea what Roman’s up to, but it sounds dangerous. It sounds like exactly the kind of collateral I’ve been searching for.
“Then I’ll see you both tonight,” Magnus states.
“We’ll be there,” Roman replies curtly.
My pulse picks up speed, excitement rippling through me at the prospect of getting off the estate for the evening. He hasn’t taken me anywhere since that business dinner with Anton weeks ago, and I was so preoccupied with loathing my new husband at the time that I didn’t bother paying any attention to what the men discussed. Wherever we’re going tonight, I’ll be listening to and soaking in every detail.
So many thoughts are racing through my mind that I don’t even realize Roman has ended the call– not until I hear the clip of his shoes against the floor approaching the opposite side of the door. I immediately spin around and scurry off down the corridor, my heart in my throat.
“Nox!” Roman calls out as the office door bursts open.
My stomach swoops, socks sliding against the slick marble underfoot as I skid to a stop. I let the dogs back outside an hour ago– they tend to follow me around when they’re in the house, and the tap of their toenails against the floor wasn’t conducive to my stealthy spying– but before I did, there were a few times they wandered off on their own. One of which I distinctly remember Roman shooing them out of his office.
There are very few things I’ll put myself in the direct line of fire for, but the dogs are at the top of that list.
I spin back around and brace myself as Roman storms out into the hall, prepared to endure his wrath if it means sparing my furry companions. Odds are fifty-fifty as to whether it’s an act of bravery or blind stupidity. Probably the latter.
My husband stops in his tracks when our eyes meet, the subtle lift of his brows betraying his surprise at finding me lurking outside his office. “Eliza,” he breathes, quickly schooling his expression back into a blank, impenetrable mask. “Don’t you typically spend your afternoons in the garden?”
So he’s been spying on me , too.
Duly noted.
“What’d he do?” I ask hesitantly, clasping my hands together in front of me to conceal their nervous tremble.
Roman’s brows pinch inward, a little crease forming between them. “Who?”
“Nox,” I reply hoarsely. “I already let him back outside, but if he made a mess, I can clean it up. Just… please don’t hurt him.”
Roman stares at me for a long moment, those green eyes burning into mine as the muscle in his tightly-clenched jaw feathers. “I’d never hurt my dogs,” he grits out, as if I’ve offended him by suggesting he might. “And I won’t have my wife scrubbing the floors like an employee.”
I advance in his direction, not trusting him as far as I can throw him. “Just let me…”
He holds up a hand to halt my advance. “Clara will take care of it,” he snaps.
I shrink back, swallowing thickly. So much for bravery.
“O-okay,” I stammer, head bobbing in a feeble nod. “I’ll just go start getting ready for dinner, then.”
“No need, I won’t be dining with you tonight,” Roman murmurs absently, gaze flickering down as he re-buttons the cuffs of his shirt. “I have to go into the city for business.”
“Alone?” I blurt.
His eyes ping back up to mine, narrowing suspiciously. “If you must know, Niko will be accompanying me.”
“Oh,” I breathe, heat rising to my cheeks.
He arches a dark brow. “Were you expecting something else?”
“N-no,” I rush out, mentally berating myself for my slip-up. Now he’s onto me, and he’s obviously trying to bait me into admitting I overheard something I shouldn’t have. “I just don’t like being here alone at night,” I say with an innocent tilt of my head, batting my lashes to really play it up. “It’s creepy.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that,” he replies flatly. “Clara will be staying the night to make sure you don’t get into any mischief while I’m gone, like last time.” Roman gives me a pointed look and I turn away to hide the unwitting blush that rises to my cheeks, memories of last time filtering through my brain.
He ordered me to my knees. He made me crawl. He used my body for his own pleasure and left me desperately unfulfilled.
“I won’t be returning until morning, and the manor will be on lockdown while I’m away,” he adds, yanking me out of the filthy scene replaying in my mind and back to the present.
“Lockdown?” I repeat, a cold sense of unease washing over me. “Is everything okay?”
Roman waves a hand dismissively. “Just a precaution, nothing for you to worry about. The doors are to remain locked until I return, and I’ll be calling in a security team I’ve worked with in the past. They’re very discreet and keep to the perimeter of the estate, so you won’t even know they’re here. I’ll likely be keeping them on for the foreseeable future.”
My heart pounds against my ribcage, a prickly feeling of foreboding creeping up my spine.
I thought the monster inside the manor was dangerous, but if a man as intimidating as my husband is bolstering his security, whatever threat he’s facing must be even more terrifying.
I may despise Roman, but do I actually wish death upon him?
“Okay, I’ll be sure to stay inside and keep the doors locked,” I reply, forcing a brittle smile to my lips. “Be safe in the city.”
He grunts in affirmation, turning on a heel and striding back into his office, dismissive as always. You’d think that if he’s put the manor in some sort of danger, he’d at least keep his roommate a little better informed. I shouldn’t bother being concerned for his mortality when he clearly doesn’t give a damn about mine.
I don’t wait around in hopes that he’ll have a sudden change of heart and spill his secrets. Instead, I head outside while I still can and track down the dogs, intent on bringing them back in. If I’m to be locked up tonight, they’re much better company than stone cold Clara .
S leep doesn’t come easily with Roman away from the manor. Despite sneaking the dogs into bed, I can’t manage to relax and quiet my anxious mind. I toss and turn, startling at every creak and groan of the house settling. I struggle to recall what Magnus said over the phone, wondering where my husband is and whether he’s in danger.
It’s not that I particularly care about Roman Volkov’s wellbeing. I’m connected to him– for better or worse– so a target on his back is also one on mine. Any danger to him is a danger to me. That’s the only reason I care.
Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
I do finally manage to drift off to sleep at some point, but I wake with a start when Nox suddenly perks up beside me, a growl rumbling in his chest as he stares into the inky darkness beyond my bed. Vesper lifts his head from his spot at the foot of the bed, looking in the same direction as his brother. I hold my breath as I focus my own eyes on the shadow lurking across the room, the icy claws of fear wrapping around my throat.
This isn’t real. Go back to sleep, Eliza.
The shadow moves. Draws closer. The floorboards creak as it continues its advance, then a sliver of moonlight shining in through a gap in the curtains illuminates the sharp lines of Roman’s face.
It’s not the shadow.
It’s my husband.
Both seem intent on haunting me.
I press a palm against my pounding heart, all the air whooshing from my lungs in a relieved sigh. Ordinarily, his presence is anything but comforting, but between the specter that haunts my room at night and the unknown danger that warranted the manor going on lockdown, Roman is the lesser evil right now.
Better the devil you know than the one you don’t.
Vesper wags his stubby little tail in recognition, but Nox still has his hackles raised, growling as Roman makes his way closer.
“ Idti ,” he murmurs with a snap of his fingers, commanding the dogs to leave in Russian. They instantly comply with his directive, jumping down from the bed and trotting toward the door.
Worst guard dogs ever.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp as he closes the door behind them, sealing the two of us alone inside my bedroom.
He begins prowling toward me again with a sinister gleam in his eye that alerts me to the presence of Mr. Hyde. “I was able to return sooner than expected.”
“No,” I huff, punching my fists against the mattress and pushing myself upright. “What are you doing here , in my room?”
“Fucking my wife, in a minute,” he replies bluntly as he approaches the side of the bed and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt.
I open my mouth to protest, but it’s just left hanging agape as Roman undoes the final buttons and shrugs off his shirt, giving me an eyeful of all that mouthwatering, hard-earned muscle beneath. My mind blanks out, a traitorous throb starting up between my thighs as he drops his hands to his belt and unfastens the buckle.
On second thought, I could do with some stress relief…
“Take your clothes off, pet,” Roman growls as he drops his slacks to the floor.
I don’t move a muscle, still captivated by the strip show playing out before my eyes.
He pauses as he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, cocking a dark brow at me. “Or would you prefer I rip them off?”
I huff out an annoyed breath, my eyes pinging up to glare into his defiantly. My first instinct is always to push back against him. Each time, I have to remind myself that my compliance is only a means to an end. I’m not giving into his whims, I’m playing a role, and I’m playing it well.
Maybe too well. It’s getting harder to keep track of what’s real and what isn’t, but I suppose it doesn’t matter much right now. In this moment, I can’t focus on anything but the searing heat coursing through my veins.
Roman hasn’t fucked me in days. I need it, and it’d be a pointless exercise in masochism to resist him.
Averting my gaze in shame, I bury myself further beneath the covers, slipping off my little silk pajama set before rolling onto my side and putting my back to him. My heart pounds with anticipation as he throws back the comforter, the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he climbs into bed and settles beside me.
“You shouldn’t sneak around in the dark like that,” I grumble as he bands an arm around my waist and yanks my body backwards into his. The soft curves of my bare flesh meet his hard lines, the warmth of his chest bleeding into my back. “You scared me.”
“Then I’ll bet you’re dripping,” he murmurs, scraping his teeth against my shoulder as he reaches down to rub his velvety tip through my slick folds.
He’s not wrong.
“Roman,” I protest, even as I shift my hips to give him better access.
He brings his other hand up to collar my throat, cutting off my air as he aligns with my entrance and thrusts into me from behind. My back arches, lungs seizing for breath as he stretches and fills me, a low groan rumbling in his chest.
“Fuck, I’ve missed your tight cunt,” he snarls as he pushes in deeper, burying himself to the hilt.
I claw at the hand suffocating my throat, black spots dotting the edges of my vision. He lingers there for a moment, my inner walls straining around his girth and my lungs screaming for oxygen. Then his grip around my neck slowly slackens, allowing me to draw a much-needed breath as he begins moving inside me, owning my body with every harsh snap of his hips.
Pleasure spreads through my limbs like wildfire as Roman hammers into me with reckless abandon, his hand sliding away from my throat to grope my breasts. He squeezes one roughly in his palm, eliciting a moan from deep in my chest when he pinches my hardened nipple between his fingers and twists. The sensation shoots straight to my core, my body jolting, toes curling.
When he lets go, I instinctively reach up to rub at my stinging nipple, my fingers sliding against something warm and sticky coating my skin. Shoving the comforter away, I glance down in alarm, eyes widening at the sight of dark red smears contrasting against my pale flesh.
“Are you bleeding?” I choke.
Roman pauses his thrusts, lifting his hand away from my body. “Guess I am,” he murmurs as he moves it into the light, hooking his chin over my shoulder to examine the deep gash cut up the center of his palm. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“What happened?”
“Broke a glass earlier.”
“Shouldn’t you get a bandage or something?”
“And leave this perfect pussy?” he scoffs as he punches his hips forward again, stealing my breath while burying himself impossibly deeper. “I don’t think so, pet.”
My eyes roll back as he resumes his savage thrusting, his hand slapping back down over my breast and giving it a rough squeeze. Now that I know he’s bleeding, I can feel the warmth of it pooling against my skin, my stomach curling in on itself.
“Roman, you’re bleeding on me,” I grit out, shoving his hand away.
He pulls out with an annoyed grunt, tossing the comforter aside and flipping me onto my back. Pushing up to kneel between my thighs, he rakes his heated gaze over my chest, emerald eyes glimmering with twisted delight at the bloodstains on my skin.
“Look how beautiful you are, covered in red,” he murmurs reverently, reaching down to smear more of it across my breasts.
I dip my chin, eyes tracking the movement of his hand and the crimson streaks on my flesh. I’m not sure why I don’t stop him. Sick fascination takes hold as he paints me with his blood, nudging my thighs further apart and sinking his thick cock back inside me. I clench around him, crying out as he starts pounding me into the mattress, both of us caught up in some sadistic haze of blood and indulgence, pain and rapture.
I come so hard that I black out, and the burgeoning monster inside me welcomes the darkness with open arms.