Chapter 6 - Ninel
I’d been married to Artyom for two weeks, and boredom was settling in like a storm over a fourth of July parade. I wasn't used to not having a phone or Mariya to talk to, or being cooped up for days on end having absolutely nothing to do.
Sure I had a routine when I woke up: wake up, shower, dress in whatever outfit Artyom lay out for me and then we'd have breakfast together…with zero conversation.
Urgh!
Today after breakfast, I decided to walk along the estate and feed the swans, but they weren’t there. One of the guards said they’d gotten sick, and needed to be taken away. In their place, koi fish glided through the pond.
Yesterday, I had asked Artyom about the conditions of our marriage, about my rights. He made it clear that sex was expected if I wanted him to take me out in his territory, although he claimed that wasn't what he meant.
Yet, last night I hadn’t slept well, anticipating him coming to our bed, but he hadn’t.
Would you have pushed him away if he had?
I sighed. Honestly, I didn’t know.
These days, around Artyom, I never quite knew how I was supposed to feel. He was attractive, yes, and a friend, or at least I thought so before he kidnapped me.
But when his hands rested at my hips, in his office and those intense grey eyes of his met mine, all I wanted to do was to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
I wished I had someone to talk to or at least something to distract my thoughts from Artyom.
Before getting to know him he was known to be cruel but after the peace treaty I saw a side of him I never knew.
The fact that he kidnapped me made me realize that he never forgave Lev or Jaroslav for marrying Katya and Vera.
But a part of me wondered how much of him playing “nice” was the real him?
He hadn’t hurt me since I arrived. And if he was as cruel as we thought he was he would've already forced himself on me.
But, he seemed content to remain in his office.
I could smell his bodywash sometimes, his aftershave in the bathroom of the mastersuite, but otherwise, he stayed away from the bedroom.
A small smile curved my lips as it dawned on me that he hadn’t forbidden me from exploring his territory, so I decided to test that boundary.
At least it would give me something to keep my mind busy.
I made my way inside to the bedroom. I dressed quickly in jeans, boots, a tank top, and a jacket. I tucked my hair under a baseball cap, threw on a pair of sunglasses and made my way to the garage.
The garage held four SUVs, two Jaguars, a Porsche, and a Ferrari.
Those were the cars that I could name. I made my way to the key rack which luckily was labelled.
I grabbed a key for one of the armored SUVs, because it made the most sense.
Well…at least when I was in the vehicle.
Once out I didn't have my knife so I'd have to rely on hand to hand combat or find a weapon to defend myself.
I prayed nothing like that happened because if it did I knew Artyom will never let me out of his sight.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I adjusted the mirrors, pressed the garage door, bit my lower lip and waited. I expected guards to rush in and stop me but no one came. A thrill ran through me as I turned the ignition and drove toward the front gate.
One of the guards stepped forward, motioning for me to roll down the window, which I did.
He gave a curt nod. “Be safe, Mrs. Rykov.”
I nodded back, rolled the window up, and the gate swung open. I drove through, the estate receding behind me, feeling the first rush of freedom in fourteen days.
For a moment, I thought about going to Lev.
But seeing that no one had shown up at Artyom’s house, I figured he’d told them I was fine, and they believed him.
If I showed up and gave my side of the story, it could shatter everything both factions had been building over the past year.
Besides, I’d promised Artyom I wouldn’t contact them.
Hopefully, keeping that promise would earn his trust.
About fifteen minutes later, I parked in front of one of the Rykovs restaurants. I figured they’d know the license plate and keep the car safe. I hopped out, locked it, and slipped the keys between my fingers…just in case.
I wandered from store to store, admiring trinkets and clothes, wishing I had money to buy a few things for Alexi, Evie, and my sisters.
The movement gave me a fleeting sense of freedom, but loneliness clawed at me, and tears misted my eyes.
I wrapped my arms around myself and walked aimlessly, trying to shake it off.
Then I remembered an art gallery nearby, the one Kira had brought me to when I visited her. As I headed there, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and unease washed over me.
Was I being followed?
I bent to ‘fix’ my jeans, subtly glancing over my shoulder. Feet moved around me…except one pair.
Shit.
I straightened, forcing a casual composure. Instead of the gallery, I steered toward a bookstore near the police station. It was three blocks away and I just hoped I’d make it.
I didn’t have any numbers saved at the top of my head to ask someone to call for help, and I couldn’t risk going into the station.
I didn’t know which officers were on Artyom’s payroll and which weren’t.
If they identified me, I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t try to pin a crime on me just to settle a score with Lev or the Rykovs since everyone knew about our alliance.
Bratva or not, not every cop’s palm was greased to turn the other cheek.
With every step, my heart thumped harder, rattling against my ribs.
I struggled to keep my composure, but after two minutes I had to speed up.
Training drilled into me not to panic, that panic clouds judgment, and that gets you killed.
I inhaled sharply, forcing my legs to move faster without tripping over the panic that was indeed rising in my chest.
Yet part of me burned with curiosity. Who was following me? Most stores had back exits. If I could slip through one and catch them from behind…maybe I could get a glimpse.
With that plan in mind, I quickened my pace.
Without waiting for the lights to change, I darted across the streets, leaving angry honks in my wake.
Ignoring them, I quickly made my way to the fourth small store and ducked into it.
My pulse slammed in my ears as I hustled toward the door marked ‘Employees Only’ and ran to the back door before any employee could notice.
I stepped out into the alley, just about to break into a run, when an iron-hand clamped onto my arm.
Instinctively, I tightened my grip on the keys between my fingers and swung around, aiming for their face. But before I could connect, my arms were pinned behind my back, and I was pressed against a muscular chest. My stomach dropped and I felt bile rising in my throat.
Then a familiar, intoxicating scent filled my senses overriding the stench of the dumpster close by, and a low whisper caressed my ear, “Were you really naive enough to think I’d let you roam my territory unmonitored?”
“Artyom?” My voice cracked, a mix of relief and disbelief.
He released me, and I spun around, shaking from adrenaline.
“Why would you freak me out like that?” I snapped, trying to mask the flutter I felt when our eyes locked.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to head out today?” His voice had an edge to it, one I had heard before. One that said he was at the end of his rope.
But, I didn't care. I was still running on adrenaline and my fear evaporated and in its place anger was planted.
“Yesterday should’ve been an indication I was going bored out of my mind after our discussion!” I threw my hands in the air frustratedly.
I couldn’t believe it! Here I’d thought I was in danger, and it was him! Following me like a damn stalker! Who the hell does that?
Artyom.
“We also spoke about having sex, but I don’t see you dragging me to bed,” he growled.
“I thought you didn’t mean it like that!”
Shit. Had he changed his mind?
“I didn’t!” He ran a hand through his hair and blew out through his mouth.
His gaze raked over me like a light breeze over hot coals. I swallowed hard as frustration and anger painted themselves in the lines on his face. Then his eyes locked onto mine with such intensity that a shiver slid down my spine.
I stumbled back a step as his brows furrowed.
“Why aren’t you in the outfit I picked for you today?”
Was he serious right now?
“Because a fitted dress isn’t exactly the right thing to wear while exploring. In case I ran into trouble.”
His mouth curved in a humorless smile. “You broke Scott’s nose while wearing a dress.”
“That was different.”
“Different how? Because it was a date?”
“Yes.”
“And you still managed to kick one of my men square in the chest…while wearing heels. He still has the mark.”
I shrugged. “So, I changed my clothes. What’s the big deal?”
His eyes darkened. “You are my wife. You will do as I say. Or have you already forgotten my rules?”
Each word out of his mouth felt like a threat cut. And with every one, he tried to close the distance between us but I stepped back. His hand clamped around my waist, pinning me to his chest before my back hit the grimy wall.
I braced my palms against his chest, heart racing.
“I asked you a question.” His voice deadly. “Did you forget my rules? Do you need to be punished?”
His words rumbled through his chest and into my fingers, sliding lower, lingering between my thighs
I nodded. “No.”
Artyom chuckled mockingly as he gently tightened his hold on me. “Confused, are you, printsessa?”
Good Lord. He probably thought I was an idiot. I didn't dare speak. Nor did I want to.
What was wrong with me? I had never felt this attracted to anyone before. I had liked Scott yeah but what I felt wasn't anything like this! And I had spent time with Artyom before, so I didn't understand why this was happening now.
Yeah, you spent time with him with your family or his. Not in a smelly alley with his arms on your waist and him staring at you like the last slice of chocolate cake that he wanted to lick the icing off of.
Before my mind spiralled even more, his hands slid away from my body and I bit back a whimper. With his arm gone, I tried to gather myself, though my pulse refused to calm the hell down!
I cleared my throat, praying my voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Now that you’re here, does it mean you’ll stay with me as I explore?”
I really didn't want to go home. At least not yet.
He extended his hand. “Key.”
I tucked my hand behind my back, watching his hand warily. “Does it mean you’ll stay?”
“Key, printsessa. Don’t let me repeat myself,” he scolded.
I rolled my eyes, handed him the key, and folded my arms.
He stepped closer and I met his fierce gaze squarely. “Let me remind you that you’re a Bratva wife,” he murmured, tilting my chin upward, “and not a ten-year-old child.”
“Whatever,” I muttered, walking away, trying to hide my quick breathing from the spark left by his touch.
Without a word, Artyom caught up to me and his hand landed on the small of my back, guiding me as we headed back to the car. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other so I wouldn't fall flat on my face. Since the longer he touched me the more my legs felt like jello.
I was still angry that he wouldn't stay with me. What was the big deal anyway? He was already here. The more I let my anger simmer, the more Artyom's touch slipped away, and the less his presence affected me.
During the ride home, I stared out the window, hands fisted on my lap. As soon as the car stopped in front of the house, I bolted, hopping out before anyone could open my door. After storming inside, I slammed the front door with a satisfying bang.
Fuck Artyom and his obey-me shit.
I was a Safin. And if he wanted to see what a Bratva wife was made of, he’d find out soon enough.