Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
SOFIYA
M ikhail doesn’t join me during the night, and he’s not in our room when I wake up. His side of the bed is cold. I don’t understand why he can’t just tell me about his son. I understand what it’s like to lose someone you love. Both my parents are dead—they died at the same time. I know what loss and grief feels like.
All I want is for Mikhail to trust me enough to tell me, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Does he think I’m going to mock him? It dawns on me I’ve never told Mikhail that he can trust me. And I’ve given him every reason not to.
I’ve run from him. I’ve told him he intimidates me. I was terrified after he killed Irina. He knows I trust him, but he doesn’t know he can trust me.
After getting dressed, I head straight for Mikhail’s office and knock on the door. There’s no answer. I knock a few more times until Mary passes by, carrying an arm-full of sheets.
“Mr. Ivanov isn’t in right now,” Mary tells me.
I drop my arm awkwardly at my side. “Oh. I didn’t know.”
Mary huffs. “Of course he didn’t tell you. You don’t own him.”
Anger flares through my body, and I can’t take it anymore. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” Mary faces me head-on. “I don’t have a problem. It’s you who is the problem.”
“Why? What have I ever done to you? Other than not being Natasha, I don’t know what else I could have done to make you hate me so much.”
“You parade around this house like you own it when Mr. Ivanov built it. You’re just the little girl he married when there were other, more mature women he could have chosen.”
It hits me like a ton of bricks. “You’re jealous.”
She scoffs. “I am not jealous. Of you? No.” But it’s obvious from how she can’t fully look me in the eye that she’s lying to me.
“You are jealous. You like Mikhail.”
“No. He is my boss. I have no romantic feelings for him.”
“You’re closer in age to him than I am. I get why you’d be jealous.”
Mary pulls the sheets closer to her chest and sneers at me. “I am not jealous. Now, Mr. Ivanov is at work, and you’ll have to wait until he’s home to talk to him. Get away from his office.”
“I can do whatever I want, and I’m tired of people bossing me around. I may listen to Mikhail because I want to.” I stand toe-to-toe with her, looking her down. “But I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my husband. If I want to stand by my husband’s office door all day, then I’m going to. Now, why don’t you go back into the kitchen where you belong.”
“You insolent little brat!”
I don’t see her hand coming right for my face until I feel it. My face stings from the slap. I gasp and step back.
“You are not the boss of this house,” Mary says. “Learn your place.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks away.
I slump against the office door, holding my burning cheek. The only thing I feel right now is loneliness. My sisters are here, but they can’t fill the void Mikhail has left in my heart. And now, he’s not even here to protect me from Mary.
I sit on the floor, determined not to move until I can speak to Mikhail again.
MIKHAIL
I’m in the middle of collecting money from Bogdan, a restaurant owner who pays me a monthly fee for my help keeping his restaurant afloat, when I get a call from home.
I assume it’s Sofiya, but it’s Mary’s voice I hear on the other line. “That wife of yours is a brat,” she mutters.
I step away from Bogdan, holding up my finger, and walk to a corner of the restaurant. “What is this about?”
“Your wife had the audacity to tell me what to do. She tried bossing me around. You need to punish her. She’s getting out of hand.”
“How?”
Mary pauses. Then, “She slapped me. Across the face.”
I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. That doesn’t sound like my sweet Sofiya, but maybe she’s acting out because I’m not there. “Fine. I’ll come back soon. Just … stay away from Sofiya in the meantime.”
“Gladly.”
I finish collecting my money and head back home. What I see surprises me—Sofiya is sitting on the floor in front of my office. “What happened between you and Mary?”
She scrambles to stand. “We … argued.”
“She said you slapped her.”
“What? No! She slapped me .” She points at her cheek. “She hit me hard enough to bruise. She was telling me I couldn’t stay in front of your office.”
I inhale deeply. Mary has been a good employee for me for years. Why would she do this now? “Did she really slap you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll talk to Mary. Make sure she knows never to do that again. But why would she do that?”
“She hates me,” Sofiya mumbles.
“You know, I don’t really have time for this. I left work to come back here to deal with this problem. I just want you and Mary to get along. I’m busy, Sofiya.”
“I didn’t call you, asking for you to come back home. Why does it sound like you’re blaming me?”
“Because you’re supposed to be my good girl. You shouldn’t be getting into fights with my staff.”
“Mary is my staff, too.” She pauses. “Unless … you don’t think I belong here. That I don’t have a claim to it.”
All the anger leaves me. “You do belong here. I brought you here because I want you here.”
“So, then, why are you pushing me away? Why are you not telling me about your son?”
I quickly turn away from her and head toward the kitchen. Sofiya follows. “I told you I wasn’t going to talk about my son. You know he existed. That he died. That’s it.”
“Is it because you don’t trust me?”
We enter the kitchen, where Mary is wiping the countertops. She smiles at me before continuing her work.
“You’re a good employee, Mary,” I say, ignoring Sofiya’s question. “So, how could you slap my wife across the face?”
All the color drains from Mary’s skin. “I … I said she slapped me.”
“Well, Sofiya said you slapped her.”
“She’s a liar,” Mary snaps.
“I am not a liar,” Sofiya snaps in return.
“Enough!” I say in a firm tone. Both women immediately go quiet. “I don’t have time to deal with this. I am a busy man.”
“I know,” Mary says. “That’s why I didn’t want Sofiya disturbing you.”
Sofiya scoffs but doesn’t say anything.
“See?” Mary points at her. “Attitude.”
“Enough,” I repeat, more calmly this time. “Just … stop. You two need to figure this out.” I turn to Sofiya. “I’m disappointed in you. I expect better from my wife.”
Sofiya looks stunned. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“We’ll deal with this later. For right now, I’m heading back out. Sofiya, pick out a dress for tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
“We’re going back out again. Now, I’m off.” I walk past Sofiya even as she opens her mouth to speak. I keep walking until I’m out the door.
SOFIYA
Hearing Mikhail tell me he was disappointed in me hurt worse than Mary’s slap. It hurt even more as I watched Mary smirk at me behind his back when he told me he was disappointed in me.
Now, I sit in our bedroom, ignoring my sisters as they try to talk to me. “Go away,” I say through the door.
Eventually, they leave me alone. They’re safe here. Boris can’t hurt them. They can figure out their own entertainment. Right now, for me, I’m too distracted thinking about what went down today.
All I wanted to do was tell Mikhail he could trust me. That I won’t see him as a monster. That I won’t judge him for whatever happened with his son. I just want to get to know him .
And then Mary happened, and now, Mikhail is disappointed because I was supposed to be better. I was supposed to be his good girl.
I’m trying so hard for Mikhail, and I feel like he doesn’t even see it. I can only give so much before breaking.
I don’t pick out a dress for tonight like Mikhail wants. It doesn’t seem I can do anything right. So, I just stay in the bedroom all day, only going out for food while ignoring Mary and my sisters, until Mikhail returns home.
He finds me sitting on the bed. “You’re not changed,” he says.
“I didn’t know what to wear.”
He stares at me for a moment before sighing and crouching down before me. “You’re upset.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
I shake my head and fight back more tears. I’m getting really tired of crying so much. “You’re not telling me everything.”
He looks away. “Sofiya …”
“Can I please say my piece?”
After a moment, he nods.
After a shaky inhale, I speak. “The reason I was sitting by your office today was because I wanted to talk with you. I wanted to tell you that you can trust me. I know I ran away from you, and maybe I broke your trust in me when I did that. I don’t know why you’re not telling me everything, but I just can’t let it be because of me.”
“Is that what you wanted to say?”
“Yes.”
He places his strong hands on my knees. “I do trust you, Sofiya. You’ve proven yourself to me. I just don’t like to talk about it, and I need you to respect that.”
I want to object, but I know he’s right, even though it hurts my heart all over again. I slowly nod.
“Now,” he says, standing up. “Get dressed. I’ll pick a dress out for you, and then we’re going to the club. Tonight will be about pain, Sofiya. It will be a punishment for how you acted today with Mary.”
My heart clammers up into my throat. “But?—”
“No buts. I believe you when you said Mary slapped you. But you still need to be punished. You always need to act better. Tonight, I will make sure you learn that lesson.”
Getting punished is the last thing I want, but I love how I feel afterward—completely forgiven. Mikhail is always proud of me then. I need that right now more than anything.
Mikhail holds his hand out to me, and I take it, letting him pull me up so I can get ready for the night.
I’m dressed in another short outfit, this one light blue with kitten heels to match.
“You look perfect,” Mikhail tells me before we leave. I can feel myself beaming.
The club is exactly the same as last time. People enjoying themselves everywhere. Doms and dominatrixes pleasuring their subs. The smell of sex in the air. It’s electric.
I also don’t want to be here. I want Mikhail to hold me in his arms in our bed. I want him to hold nothing back. I want to know all of him.
But I don’t object because I want Mikhail to be proud of me, and this is the only way.
“This way,” he murmurs, guiding me toward a private room. A window is in the wall, so anyone can look in and watch what’s going on. And tonight, they’ll see me getting punished.
Inside the room is a bed, a bench, and a chair. Each has cuffs attached. The room is lined with blindfolds and gags and whips and paddles.
Mikhail gently shuts the door behind us, quieting all the sound. It reminds me of how alone we are together and that he can do anything to my body.
When he steps up behind me, I don’t dare turn around. “You’re going to pull your dress up around your waist, lie on the bed, and push your ass out. I’m going to use the paddle on you. You need to remember how much it hurts so I don’t have to do this to you again. Now, let’s begin.”
I don’t waste time getting into position with my dress pulled up. The cool air in the room hits my backside, making me shiver. It doesn’t matter how many times Mikhail has touched me. My body still anticipates his next move.
I press my face into the mattress and shut my eyes, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. I can’t see Mikhail, but I can hear him as he grabs a paddle off the wall and stands behind me.
“You disappointed me today, Sofiya. Don’t let it happen again.” Thwack . I jump when the paddle hits my butt, sending a stinging sensation over my skin. It’s so similar to Mary’s slap that I push it from my mind. I really don’t want to think about Mary at a moment like this.
I gasp as the next smack lands, my eyes springing open. People stand on the other side of the window … watching. Watching me get punished. Watching me get spanked with a paddle. My face burns from humiliation while my inner walls clench from desire.
Mikhail places his hand on my back as he continues to paddle me. Each one makes me push my butt out for more. I hate this. I don’t want this.
And yet, I need it. I need Mikhail to spank me and make me feel better. I need it like I need air to breathe.
“Will you remember to be my good girl?” he asks. Thwack .
“Yes,” I cry out, tears stinging my eyes from the pain and pleasure coursing through my body. Thwack .
“You won't get into fights with anyone ever again. Is that understood?” Thwack .
“Yes, sir.”
“You will be better. You will be good.” Thwack .
“Yes, sir!” My hands cling to the bedsheets. “Yes, I will!”
“Good.” He paddles me in quick succession before stopping. I slump against the mattress, everything gone from me. After placing the paddle back, Mikhail leans over me and rests his lips against my ear. “You’re forgiven.” He gently kisses my cheek, which almost makes me cry. How can he be gentle with me yet still hold me at a distance?
“Now, time for pleasure,” he says. I can hear his zipper coming undone and then feel his erection pressing against my entrance. Without even thinking about it, I arch my hips back, searching for him.
And then he drives his length into me with one quick, rough thrust. I choke on my gasp. Mikhail growls as he holds my hips and plunges into me. Out and in. Out and in.
He shows my body no mercy.
“I want to see you,” I say, then moan as he reaches between my body and the bed and begins pleasuring my nub.
“Not right now,” he responds. I almost cry. Even though this position feels amazing, it means I can’t make eye contact with Mikhail. It feels more like he’s using my body for pleasure rather than forming a connection.
He presses down on my bundle of nerves, making my hips shoot back. I moan softly. Mikhail doesn’t stop his affront of my body. It’s rough and raw, and I love it. But I hate that I love it.
My eyes catch the eye of a man standing outside the window. He smirks at me. People are watching us have sex. The thought is both exhilarating and mortifying. They’re just casually watching my husband take me with abandon.
I moan again when Mikhail rubs my clit harder. My hips jerk into his hand, needing more, always needing more.
Just when I’m so close to coming, Mikhail removes his hand and places it on my hips. Then he shoves his erection deeper within me.
“Please,” I cry out.
“You’re my good girl, Sofiya. You know what to do.”
“I need to hear it,” I admit.
“Hear what?” He grinds his hips down, reaching a part of me that sends shockwaves of pleasure over me.
“I need your permission.”
I can hear the smile in his voice as he responds. “Then be my good girl and come for me. Now .”
And I do.
No sound escapes me as my orgasm ripples through me. The intensity of it steals my breath away.
Mikhail thrusts once more into me before he comes next. I wonder when I’ll end up pregnant and if I even want that. I’ve always wanted to become a mom. I just don’t know how comfortable I’ll feel having a child with Mikhail if he doesn’t open up to me. Especially since his son is the reason he’s not.
I gasp as he pulls out of me.
“Stay there,” he instructs, walking away for a moment before returning with a towel he uses between my legs. I sigh and melt into the bed. This afterglow, where he comforts me and makes sure my body is all right, fills me with a sense of calm I’ve never felt before.
But then he pulls away again.
“Can you hold me in the bed?” I ask.
He pushes my dress back down and sits me up before laying me down on the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“The last time you left, Irina tried to hurt me.”
“Irina is dead. No one can hurt you again.” He kisses my forehead and then leaves the room. I avert my gaze from the people still looking at me through the window. This is not what I want. I want Mikhail to snuggle with me. I want to fall asleep in his arms, something we’ve never done before.
He’s using BDSM to keep me at a distance.
And I don’t know how to change that.
MIKHAIL
I grab a drink from the bar and down it in one swig.
Sofiya is getting to me. She clearly wants us to be closer, but to do that, I’d have to tell her everything. Alexei’s death. Nastasha’s suicide. Ivan Petrov, the man who did it and got away because of his damn heart attack. I’d have to tell her how I cried in my car after it happened. No one has ever seen me cry before.
I put my heart to stone after Alexei’s death, but Sofiya has slowly been cracking away at it. I care deeply for her. But can I give her love? Especially the type of love she wants.
“Looking for a sub?” a woman asks me. She’s cute in a girl-next-door kind of way, but her outfit says otherwise. “Because I’m looking for a man who can make me submit.” She trails her fingers down my chest.
I make a point of taking her hand and placing it on the bar. “Not interested.”
She pouts. “Fine.” Quickly, she sets her eyes on another dom and runs over to him.
I shake my head as I order another drink and gulp that one down just as fast as the first one.
SOFIYA
The door opens, and I sit up, unsure what I’m going to say to Mikhail.
But it’s not Mikhail who enters.
It’s Andrei.
His eyes flick down toward my legs, and I draw the blankets around me, pulling them up to my chin.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Mikhail will hurt you if he sees you in here.”
“I just want to talk.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I swear. Just talk.”
“Fine. Just say what you have to say and go.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around the room. “Where’s Mikhail?”
“Coming back.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But isn’t that interesting? He leaves you alone after what you two shared.”
My blood turns to ice. “You saw us?”
“I saw you.” The smile on his face is wicked. “I saw Mikhail fuck you like a caveman.”
I flush. “Get out. Go.”
“You shouldn’t be with him. Look. He leaves you alone, giving me the space to come in here and talk to you. What kind of husband is that?”
“So … what? You want me to leave with you?”
“Preferably. I want you, Sofiya. I think I’ve made that clear. Come with me.”
I stare at him for a minute before laughing. “You’re delusional. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Andrei’s smile slowly turns dark. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
The door opens again, and Mikhail walks into the room. “What’s going on in here?”
“Sofiya and I were just talking,” Andrei says.
Mikhail keeps his eyes on Andrei but speaks to me. “Sofiya?”
“He said he wanted to talk, but he just wanted me to run away with him.”
“Is that so?” A muscle twitches in Mikhail’s forehead. “Well, Andrei, you can’t seem to learn your lesson either. I told you to stay away from Sofiya. I told you to never lay your eyes on her again.”
“You know I’ve never been one to listen. Besides, Mikhail, we’ve always been so close. Sharing women. It’s nothing new.”
“It is this time,” he growls …
… right before he lunges at Andrei. I gasp and scramble back on the bed. The two men fight and grapple with each other until Andrei ends up on his back. Mikhail gets on top of him and jams his thumbs into Andrei’s eyes.
Andrei grunts and tries to pry Mikhail’s fingers away, but Mikhail has an advantage—he has possession on his side. Possession of me. Mikhail will do anything to protect me.
I gasp as Mikhail keeps pressing down into Andrei’s eyes until Andrei can’t fight it any longer. The scream that escapes Andrei is chilling. I watch in horror as Mikhail jams his fingers so far into Mikhail’s eyes that blood spurts out.
Andrei doesn’t stop screaming once.
A security guard barges into the room and stops once he sees Mikhail. It’s clear from the guard’s face he won’t intervene. He must know who Mikhail is.
Mikhail finally lets Andrei go and stands up. His hands are covered in blood. Andrei’s blood.
But Andrei is still alive. He’s pressing his hands into his eyes as if that will help. But I caught a glimpse before Andrei covered his eyes—they were red and black.
Mikhail just blinded Andrei. All because Andrei was looking at me.
I know I should be horrified. I know I should never want Mikhail to touch me again.
But all I can think is—karma.
Andrei thought he could get his hands on me. He forced me to get naked before him. If it weren’t for Mikhail finding me, then who knows what Andrei would have done to me back at his house that day?
It’s karma, pure and simple.
And it makes me laugh.
I can’t stop laughing, not even as Mikhail scoops me up into his arms, his blood-stained hands leaving red marks behind on my dress, and carries me out of the club. No one stops us.
I don’t stop laughing as he sets me in the car. I don’t stop laughing as he starts the car.
And I don’t stop laughing all the way home.