10. Emily
10
EMILY
“I’m sorry.”
Those are the last words I expect from Konstantin.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” he continues before I can react. “For making you feel like you had no choice but to run.” He looks away, his hand tightening around mine. “If you want nothing to do with me anymore … If you want me to let you go when we land, just say so, and that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
From the way his large hands tighten around mine, I know that he’s serious. And from the way my heart is seizing at the possibility that he might actually let me go, I know that it’s not what I want.
I want him to reassure me that I am his wife in every definition of the word—his partner, his equal, his everything.
I want him to tell me that I’m not just a means to an end, that I’m not just a tool for him to wrest control of the bratva from his grandmother, that he loves me for me and not for what I can do for him.
But I’m afraid that he won’t .
Worse. I’m afraid that even if he says all those things to me, I won’t believe him.
Realizing that I’ve been silent as he waits for an answer, I look him in the eye. “I want to stay, Konstantin, and that’s the truth.” Pausing to gather myself, I add. “But …” The words I want to say die in my throat, and instead, all I can manage is. “I want things to be different.”
“And they will be,” he replies. “I promise.”
I wait for him to say more. When he doesn’t, I just nod and scoot closer to him until I’m enveloped in the warmth of his embrace.
He holds me closer and brushes his lips across my forehead. The scent of soap and aftershave waft over me as I settle in the crook of his arm, wondering if I’ll ever answer the lingering question in my mind about whether Konstantin truly loves me.
From the minute we land, fatigue hits me like a truck. By the time I make my way to the bottom of the staircase from the helicopter, my limbs have grown heavy and my thoughts fuzzy. Try as I may, I can barely keep my eyes open.
I don’t remember exactly when I fell asleep, but I have flashes of what came later: Konstantin easily cradling me against his chest. The castle with its familiar hanging lamps and diamond-shaped windows looming just beyond the lake. Being carried over the steps and then lowered into a familiar, large bed.
When I finally wake, the sun’s already setting, sending a smear of red cresting over the hills through the window. For a moment, I forget where I am and panic chases all drowsiness out of me .
The events of the past few days have left me on edge. The knowledge that Domenico not only had me, but he could’ve killed me if he really wanted to still nibbles at the edges of my consciousness.
The knowledge that Alla might still somewhere in this castle, waiting for another chance to stab at me with her words.
And her needles.
I can’t hide from her forever.
Light footsteps draw my attention, and relief sends me falling back into the comfortable pillows when I see Ivica standing in the doorway. She looks exactly as I remember, her pale blonde hair pulled back in a tight crown of braids.
And like the last time the two of us saw each other, there’s a worried look brimming behind her eyes.
“You’re back,” she says and hands me a cool glass of water. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story." I sink back against the pillows. “Are you okay? Did … Did Alla do anything to you for helping me?”
“She did,” Ivica replies, and she rubs her arm, wincing slightly. “She told me that she was most displeased at my betrayal.”
My heart leaps to my throat when I see her do that. The stinging sensations that have never quite disappeared runs along my arms, and I shiver involuntarily.
“Did she …” I let the words hang in the air, unsaid.
Ivica nods. “This isn’t the first time I’ve suffered Alla Antonovna’s wrath. Nor will it be the last. I will survive, as I’ve survived many things.”
“I’m so sorry, Ivica,” I mutter as guilt overtakes me again. “It’s all my fault.”
“No, dear,” she says. “It’s not. You were the one who felt like you had no choice but to run. You didn’t need to say it, but it was written on your face when you asked me to stay with you that morning.” She sighs. “You still haven’t told me what happened after you left.”
“I was caught,” I tell her what I’ve been unable to tell Konstantin. “By Domenico’s men.”
Alarm crosses over her face. “How?”
“They ambushed the delivery drivers that you had sent me away with as we got closer to Dubrovnik,” I explain. “They must’ve been planning something of their own. As soon as they realized who I was, they took me away to Capri. That was where I met Domenico.”
Ivica gasps. “Does Konstantin Yurevich know?”
“He does,” I answer. “But it’s no use. Domenico escaped. But the good news is that both Alisa and I are safe. Konstantin saved us both.”
Relief spreads across Ivica’s face upon hearing this. But trailing in the wake of relief is guilt. She blinks her eyes fiercely, and I know she’s doing everything she can to keep her own tears from falling.
“I’m sorry, Emily Samovna,” she says quietly. “I thought I was helping you. But instead …” She covers her mouth and turns away.
“Ivica, no.” I reach for her. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Alla Antonova was right to punish me,” she whispers.
“No, she wasn’t!” I say, more adamantly this time. “Nobody has that right to hurt people like she does. Least of all people like you.”
“I was just trying to help you, Emily Samovna.” Ivica sniffs, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for … for …”
“Ivica.” I can’t help but rest my hand on her wrist. “You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t have anticipated that something like this could’ve happened. ”
“I should have!” she snaps. “I should have expected that Domenico Ferrata might do something like this. I should have done more to obey Konstantin Yurevich’s orders to keep Alla Antonovna away from you. I should have told him what you told me. I?—”
“Ivica, please.” I stop her before she can keep blaming herself. “You did what I asked, and if you haven’t gotten me out from the castle, Konstantin couldn’t have saved me.”
To say nothing about the threat Alla whispered in my ear as she raised those needles …
I don’t say any of that to Ivica, however. There’s no need to make her worry about me any more than she already is.
“But—”
“No buts,” I tell her, mustering a smile. “I mean it.”
Rising, I wrap Ivica up in a big hug. She hesitates for a moment, almost as if she’s not sure how to handle this moment. But slowly, her arm comes up, and she squeezes me back.
“I’m glad you’re okay, dear.” She sniffs against my shoulder.
“Please don’t tell Konstantin what happened to me,” I whisper in her ear. “Even if he orders you to. I don’t want him to hear it from someone else.”
“Are you sure, dear?”
“Yes,” I tell her. “Please, Ivica. This is important. Promise me you won’t.”
“I—"
Someone clears their throat before Ivica can complete her answer. Startled, I pull back, and see Konstantin carrying in a silver tray laden with sandwiches, fresh cut fruit, and a sweating carafe of water.
He’s wearing a tailored white button-down that clings to his muscles, and are open just enough to let me peek at the scars marring the beauty that is his body. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his muscular forearms rippling with every tiny motion.
My mouth waters, both at the food and at him .
“You’re awake,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through me.
“Konstantin Yurevich.” Ivica immediately bows.
“You may leave, Ivica,” Konstantin says. “I want to spend some time alone with my wife.”
Wife …
Ivica turns to me, dip her head, and hurries to leave us alone together.
Konstantin doesn’t glance back at her, instead his ice-blue eyes are fixed on me. He places the tray on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips leave behind a soft delicious heat in their wake, and my breath hitches in my throat.
“How’s Alisa?” I ask him.
“Still asleep,” he replies. “Every once in a while, she’ll wake up in a fit, and …” He sighs. “It’s going to take a while before she can accept that she’s safe.”
She’s not the only one, I think. But instead, all I do is nod. “She’s been through a lot.”
“So have you,” he murmurs. “It’s good to have you home.”
Home …
Will this castle ever feel like home?
His breath fans across my face, driving the doubts to the far recesses of my mind. I see my own reflection breathing quickly in his blue eyes. He’s so close that I can feel more than the heat from his breath. His familiar scent tickles my nose. My gaze traces over every feature of his face, from his blue eyes that see nothing but me, to his strong brow, and all the way to his full soft lips.
Even now, he’s so breathtaking that as much as I want to look at him forever, to behold him is almost overwhelming. His thumb rests just outside of my lips, and by instinct, I plant a tiny kiss on it.
He smiles, and wet heat gathers between my legs. My thighs press together in a vain attempt at relieving the tense desire tightening across my body.
The distance closes between us and his lips press crush against mine. A tiny moan escapes from my lips. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and his powerful hands pull me closer. He takes his time kissing me, slowly and sensuously, drinking me in like we have all the time in the world.
I run my fingers down his back, pressing into the defined muscles and trying to pull him down on top of me. I want to feel the weight of him pressing me into this bed.
I want to lose myself to his touch.
I want him to keep my doubts away, even if it’s just for a little while.
But he refuses to cave to my demands, and remains rooted at his spot on the bed, pulling back from the kiss—panting.
“Please,” I whine. “I want you.”
“You need to eat first,” he says, sounding reluctant.
“I can eat later,” I insist, running my hands up the back of his neck while my free hand grips the bulge tenting in his pants.
His finger digs into my skin as an appreciative hiss escapes his teeth. Suddenly, his fingers grip my chin and hold me to his powerful gaze. I smile as I start stroking his hardening cock through his pants.
“Let go,” he orders .
I obey.
"Close your eyes,” he whispers.
I comply.
“Open your mouth,” he says.
I do.
His powerful fingers hold my jaw in place. A tremor of anticipation rushes through me. His fingers sweep mine aside and I hear his pants unzip. His musk fills the pulsing air between us and my mouth starts to water.
Something salty and soft enters my mouth. But it’s not what I expected. My eyes fly open and see Konstantin feeding one of the homemade sandwiches to me. I want to scream at him, but the sandwich is just too damn good.
After my first bite, I realize that I’m starving . But my frustration remains, and I wrench my head away from his grip, rip the sandwich from his hand, and chew on it with murder in my eyes.
“That was a dirty trick,” I mumble through a mouthful of bread and cheese.
“Don’t worry.” He smirks. “You’ll get what you wanted soon.”
Once I’ve eaten everything on the tray, I rise up and frame his face between my hands.
“Now,” I tell him. “I believe I’m owed something?”