Chapter 15 - Ivan
Doubting myself was something I didn't do often, but on the rare occasion it happened, I despised every moment of it.
I didn't like second-guessing anything. It was counter-productive and did nothing to further the goals and ambitions of the family. In every way that I could, I tried to not regret anything I did.
And yet, Daria seemed to put a wrench right in the middle of that philosophy.
I was annoyed with her and myself, wondering if I got myself in too deep...if I made a mistake by seeking revenge on Daria.
Even if getting under her skin was exactly what I wanted, there was something about the way she argued with me so freely that turned my satisfaction into fury. That fire in her both intrigued and frustrated me, and while it came with the nature of my plan, something about it felt less...fun.
It was easier to handle when I was in the mood for it, but with the usual work and taking on a new business venture, I didn't have the same time or capacity to deal with her tantrum-like fits.
If anything, those moments made me consider if I had done the wrong thing. If I should've just left her in Mexico and have been done with it.
Maybe then I'd have one less thing to contend with.
While that seemed like the easier scenario involving much fewer headaches, the mere thought of leaving her behind made me feel sick to my stomach.
I didn't understand why. After everything with her and Rurik, that should've been the most straightforward decision I could reach.
My inability to keep myself in check didn't help my doubt either. I should've known it wouldn't have been easy to keep myself away from her, given how attracted I had been from the start. In a way, that aspect was a losing battle.
But things had changed. Surely, the fact that she was my wife had something to do with my weakened resolve.
There was something about knowing she was legally mine that made her even more tempting. As much as I wanted to keep my hands off her, the prospect of having her next to me every night and not being able to feel her felt like an injustice.
Plus, something in me just wanted her. Craved her.
I knew it wasn't in my best interest, but I couldn't help it.
Despite myself, she managed to find a way to sneak in and muddle up my feelings to the point of making me second-guess myself, which made her dangerous.
It meant I had to keep my walls up and focus on my revenge, not fickle emotions.
After taking the time to cool off, the remnants of annoyance remained to a lesser degree, and I went back to the kitchen. A part of me was hoping to find her back there again, while the other was somewhat relieved since I was able to grab more coffee in peace.
After pouring another mug full, I turned to face the windows and leaned back against the countertop behind me.
Through the glass, I could just barely see where Daria was sitting out in the sun with her arms crossed. From what I could tell, she still looked pissed off.
It made me scoff quietly to myself, but as I took a sip from my coffee, I noticed the notepad Veronica normally carried around sitting on the island.
A dark, harsh line etched onto the top page caught my attention, making me drift closer until the entire picture came into focus.
It was a cartoonish picture of me with a scowl...there was no questioning it. And, of course, it was crossed out, too—a clear indicator of just how angry Daria had been with me.
At first, it spiked my anger all over again to think she would do something so childish in the heat of the moment.
Yet, the longer I looked at it, taking in the strangely precise and accurate lines, the more I found myself intrigued by it. Regardless of the subject matter, it was half decent for a scribble.
More so, I couldn't ignore the faint pull in the chest...a strange twist of regret. Potentially even empathy, if I had it in me.
Glancing back at her through the window, I knew there were two paths in front of me. One that involved me sticking to my guns, being an asshole to her, and likely only making things worse. The other consisted of meeting her halfway and putting a shred of effort into being better to her—being an actual husband to her.
It was a strange concept, but given how my attempts to make her miserable were having the same effect on me, the latter seemed more appealing.
With a resigned sigh, I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and knew what I had to do.
Hearing her out would make my life easier if nothing else.
As much as that felt like admitting some kind of defeat, I didn't know how much longer I could stand that constant ebb and flow of hating each other.
Before I could change my mind, I left the kitchen and found the nearest door leading out to the backyard. From there, I trailed over to where she was still in the lounge chair, looking off into the distance.
The light furrow of her brows and the frown fixed on her lips told me everything I needed to know about her current state. Given how she didn't even glance at me while I approached further cemented that fact.
Feeling somewhat out of my depth, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and stood within her view.
"You know...if you wanted to become part of the cleaning staff, we could've negotiated that into our marriage agreement."
I was going out on a limb and taking a risk, but it was all I had.
Even if I couldn't get her to come around completely, a faint smile would be enough.
Glancing at her, I watched as she let go of a breath and looked in the opposite direction.
Daria mumbled, "Like you'd allow that."
Honestly, I didn't expect her to say anything, but hearing the curt response made my lips pull slightly. I nodded to myself. "Yeah, you're right about that."
When she didn't say anything else for a moment, visibly resisting me still, I swallowed my pride and continued, "Maybe it was wrong of me to expect you to be content surrounded by my belongings and nothing of your own...but I don't exactly know where to start on that front."
As if she was just as surprised to hear those words coming from me as I was, Daria looked at me with hesitance in her eyes. "Asking would be a good first step..."
She had a point. I didn't exactly make any moves to try and get to know her—her interests, her favorite things, anything of that capacity.
I nodded, unwilling to make any biting comments at that moment. "I won't deny that."
With a breath forced from her nose, Daria stood from her chair and looked at me directly. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this coming from a place of genuine interest or obligation?"
The question piqued my interest, and I shrugged. "How about both?"
Her expression fell somewhat flat at that, not entirely impressed. "I'm not feeling too inclined to give you an honest answer if it's an obligation."
She was being smart with me...and a part of me didn't hate it.
“Touché..." I murmured, looking down at her with a cocked brow. "In that case, I guess you'll just have to stay bored...or, maybe we can scrap all of that and just spend all day fu—”
Before I could get the word out, I felt her hands against my chest, shoving me back with more strength than I imagined she possessed in the first place.
Thrown off balance at the edge of the pool, my arms swung out in an attempt to stay standing, but from the force of her hands on me, it was a losing battle.
My breath caught in my throat as I fell back, eventually crashing through the pool's surface. Water overwhelmed my senses at once, striking me with an immediate chill that felt somewhat harsh compared to how warm it was outside.
Pushing up, I pulled in a breath and shook the water off me before finding Daria at the pool's edge, grinning faintly to herself.
The feeling of my soaked clothes against my skin immediately drove me crazy, making me question why I bothered in the first place.
"What the hell was that?"
"I just assumed you needed some way to pass the time, so I decided for you...how's the water?" she asked with a rare smugness to her tone that was both surprising and amusing.
I was prepared to snap at her for pulling a fast one on me, but then I realized, in one way or another, I managed to accomplish what I set out to achieve.
Even if it was at my expense, she was smiling.
I hated to admit that the sight wasn't the worst thing in the world.
But, of course, I wasn't one to be outdone.
"I don't know...you tell me," I returned, smirking as I reached up, wrapping a hand around her thigh before she could react. Smoothly, I pulled her forward until she lost her balance and squealed, heading face-first towards the pool.
Stepping back, I laughed as she hit the water before resurfacing a moment later, just as drenched as I was.
With her antics flipped onto her, Daria glared at me while she pushed her hair out of her face.
"Are you serious?" She muttered, huffing out an annoyed breath.
Still amused, I chuckled and moved toward her in the water, wrapping an arm around her waist. With ease, she was pulled closer to me as I looked down at her.
"Incredibly serious...I'm not one for letting anyone pull a fast one on me. Not even my own wife," I murmured, noticing how her white top suddenly became much more sheer than before. I couldn't ignore how it moved something within me.
Daria looked vaguely annoyed until our proximity became apparent to us both, and then she swallowed back whatever words were on the tip of her tongue.
Neither of us said anything for a moment while I drank at the sight of her. There was something about the way her drenched clothes clung to her body, and how her hair framed her face. There was an innocent look in her eyes and the wet lashes framing them, and overall, she looked like a walking temptation.
Through that beat of silence between us, I couldn't shake the growing need to be closer. To feel more of her.
I used to pride myself on my ability to resist all things, but in that moment, I couldn't care less to uphold that.
Instead, I guided her by the waist until her front pressed against mine, and I dipped down to press my lips against hers.
Daria flinched slightly, seemingly caught off-guard by the gesture, but with a moment to process, she tentatively moved her mouth in response.
It was stiffer than the last time we kissed, almost like some piece of her was still holding out. The enthusiasm I had hoped for wasn't quite there, but she didn't pull back from me either.
The smooth melding of our lips was more tender than I anticipated, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't send a different kind of thrill through my system.
I could taste the hint of salt water on her lips along with her own distinctive flavor, and while I didn't want to pull back, a part of me wanted to just give her a small glimpse of what I was capable of when I put my mind to it...but not an entire show of how sweet I could be just yet.
I wanted to catch her attention and leave her wanting more. In a way, it felt like a new project—a different goal altogether.
She may have been closed off to me, but in time, I had the feeling I'd be able to break her walls.
Severing the kiss, I took in her slight fluster with a sense of satisfaction. I murmured, "Get ready...we're going out for dinner tonight."