Chapter 9 - Artyom
After extracting Ninel from the art gallery things took a further nose dive.
By the time I got back to the estate and to the back where Ruslan had been tied he was unconscious.
Ninel had admitted to giving him muscle relaxers. However, that didn't spare me from whipping Ruslan in her presence, once he was awake.
I saw the tears in her eyes, and it felt as though I had been stabbed in the heart. But, I needed her to understand that sneaking off wasn't accepted.
While Ruslan remained inside with Ninel, I also stationed a guard outside by every damn exit point, just for her.
And if I thought Ninel was pissed before? Now she was a fucking storm. Demanding to know if I thought she was an animal to be kept in a damn cage!
I just didn't want her roaming around for word to get back just yet to Lev and the others. I wanted them to sweat some more, have sleepless nights, fuck up multimillion dollar deals because they're worried about her!
After everything they fucking did they needed to suffer.
Now, it didn't matter what I did or said to her, she became rebellious and opposed it all.
I had no idea what she was so pissed about in the first place. It had to be more than me whipping Ruslan and ramping up the guards.
Should I have left her in the damn gallery for them to take her away from me forever? Should I have spared Ruslan when she damn well knew how that would make me look in front of my men?
Whenever I entered the same room as she didn’t leave, she did something worse. She fucking ignored me. If I asked her a question she refused to answer until I stepped into her space and demanded one. Then we'd argue and she’d stalk away.
I was at my wits end. Ninel wasn't just any woman, she was my fucking wife. She grew up in our world, she understood what her obedience meant to her husband. But here she was, acting like a damn spoiled child.
And yet, even through the irritation, I couldn’t help but enjoy her fire.
She wasn’t meek, she wasn’t soft, she wasn’t the little doll I’d first assumed she’d be.
No, she fought me tooth and nail, matching me bite for bite, and damn if it didn’t keep me on my toes.
What she didn’t realize was that every sharp word, every flash of defiance, only made me more obsessed with seeing her in that element.
No one had ever dared to oppose me like she had, not even my siblings. And as much as I enjoyed seeing her riled up I needed to nip her defiance in the bud. If I let this shit slide now, no telling what else she'd expected me to let slide in the future.
So, today? I wasn’t having her bullshit. I told the cook to lock the kitchen and when I returned from work only then would dinner be served. If she wanted to eat she’d do it with me. I wasn’t taking away her right to food, I was simply dictating how she’d have access to it.
She'd bend to my control one way or the other.
I pulled into the estate around seven and parked in the garage. As I stepped out of the car, the door leading from the house banged open and Ninel stalked over to me.
I closed the car door, leaned against it and waited.
“So, your plan is to starve me now?” she asked, glaring at me standing a few feet away.
“We both know it’s against the treaty.”
“But I can’t get into the kitchen!”
“I wanted to eat dinner with my wife. So I just ensured that we’d both be available at the same time.”
She scoffed. “And what if I don’t want to eat dinner with you?”
“Then you won’t eat dinner at all.” I shrugged, pushing off the car and making my way into the house.
“And how isn’t that breaching the treaty?” she asked, trailing behind me.
“You’ll have food. It’ll just be on my terms and with me.”
I stopped and Ninel stepped in front of me. She opened her mouth to speak but I lifted a finger to silence her.
She folded her arms and her eyes looked like fucking molten silver. And fuck…if it wasn't speeding up my goddamn heart rate.
I pulled out my phone and called the chef, instructing him to set the dining table for my wife and I, then pocketed the phone.
“So you’re trying to control when I eat?” she snapped.
“No, printsessa. You control when you eat,” I smirked.
“You see…you’ve taken my leniency for weakness.
And one thing I am not, my dear wife, is weak.
So…you’ll eat breakfast with me every morning and dinner at night.
The kitchen will be open between the hours of noon and one in the afternoon.
You will only be allowed to eat in the kitchen, no exceptions.
Once you’ve understood your role and you submit to your husband's wishes, the kitchen will stay open. Until then…this will be our new arrangement.”
I walked toward the dining room and she followed.
She scoffed, “And you think doing this is going to make me submit to you?”
“The theory is a work in progress.”
“Screw you, Artyom! I’ll eat between the hours of noon and one. Like the prisoner that I am. I hate you!”
Ninel stormed off and I entered the dining room where the chef was setting the table.
“Good evening, Mr. Rykov.”
I sat at the head of the table. When the chef was finished, he left, leaving me alone in the room. I sat there for three hours knowing damn well Ninel was too stubborn to eat with me, yet a part of me hoped she'd want to.
Without touching dinner, I stood to head for the office when Yegor called…we’d been hit again.
Fuck.
I bolted out of the house, tires screeching as I tore out of the garage. I didn’t return until two the next afternoon, and by the time I parked, I was fuming. Not one, but two of our restaurants had been fucking bombed.
We caught the men who planted the explosives.
They were low-level street rats. Paid through a faceless email, supplied and paid at a dead drop.
I ordered Yegor and the others to start with their fingers and toes and carve them into pieces.
Then send out word for our informants. They'd get one hundred grand if they gave us information that led to the people who called the damn hit.
Using technology wasn't working, we needed to deal with this fucking ole school.
As I stepped inside the house, my phone buzzed. I had ordered Kolya to add more cameras as well as motion sensors within the trees.
I looked at my phone, jaw locked as I spotted Ninel. She was scaling trees, darting from branch to branch, hiding within the leaves as the guards walked by. Even with more men, rotating posts, and flogging Ruslan for his incompetence, she still outmaneuvered them.
Every. Fucking. One.
Shoving the phone into my pocket, I cut to the back door of the house.
Once outside, I ran to the back wall and caught her just as she was about to jump over the damn wall.
I yanked her down, and she screamed, as we crashed to the ground, my body taking the brunt of the fall, knocking the wind out of us.
Ninel gasped for air as the guards rushed over.
“Back the fuck off!” I snapped. “If you were watching her she wouldn't have gotten this far!”
They scattered instantly.
Ninel scrambled off me, and I rose to my feet, bracing myself for the fire I expected in her eyes, the fury I knew was coming. Instead, I caught the glint of unshed tears. My stomach dropped.
Shit. Had she been hurt when we fell? My eyes frantically searched her body for blood and bruises.
“Ninel, are you hurt?” I stepped toward her, but she tried to move past me. I blocked her path.
“Ninel…” My voice dropped demanding her attention, but she refused to look at me.
I took a step forward. She took one back.
“Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” Frustration laced in my words.
Her head snapped up then, eyes blazing through the tears.
“Why the hell would you care anyway?!” Her voice cracked as she yelled. “You’re only worried about if I follow your dumb rules! You made it seem as though it was okay to explore your territory but every time I leave you keep coming to get me to drag me back like I'm a prisoner of Azkaban!”
“You could just ask, Ninel!” I shot back. “You've been avoiding me! Not the other way around! I wanted to have dinner with you last night but what did you do?! You walked away!”
“And why wouldn't I? You locked the kitchen, Artyom! The kitchen! I'm not a damn puppet! I have feelings. You can't treat me like I mean something to you one minute then the next treat me like I don't! And demand that I spend time with you!”
My brows knotted. Was she really fucking talking about that day in the closet? That’s why she was pissed? Bullshit. None of it made sense when she was the one freezing me out like I was nothing.
She started pacing in front of me, every word she spoke next landed like a stab wound to the chest.
“I promised that I wouldn't call my family and I haven't! I obeyed your fucking rules! You think I couldn't take one of the cars and drive home? Or ask one of the people on the street to call Lev or drive over to see Kira?! I thought not doing any of those things would get me some brownie points but I was wrong! Even Lev didn’t have me like a prisoner! We had guards! You have guards…but you still keep me bound to this place like a genie in a lamp!”
She stopped pacing, her chest heaving as she faced me.
“I’m accustomed to being around people I love and people who love me. I love being outside…shopping, dancing, painting, visiting our families…” Her voice cracked, as she wiped away the tears that began to run down her face.
“I've never felt this alone ever…I don't know if I can do it anymore…”
Ninel tried to hold back her sobs, but they broke free. I moved toward her and pulled her into my arms. She resisted at first, fists pounding against my chest, before she finally collapsed against me, clinging to my shirt.
It felt as though Ninel's pain was transferred to me through the tears that soaked through my shirt and seared my chest.
For the first time in years, something in me broke and fucking guilt roared through my chest like wildfire.
I’d caged her, snatched her away everything she had been, everything she loved.
Of course, she wasn’t the same bright, laughing girl I remembered.
How could she be, when I’d stripped her bare and left her with nothing?
If I wanted that Ninel back, which I did, I had to face the truth: it wasn’t her who had changed. It was the environment I placed her in. And I knew then and there that I had choices to make.
When her sobbing quieted, I pulled back just enough to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Ninel, I’m not trying to keep you a prisoner. The ghost enemy has been tearing through the faction. Right now, being out and about isn’t safe.”
She tilted her head, thinking about my words. I hadn’t lied…but I hadn’t given her the full truth either.
“Are Yegor and Zahkar okay? I know Kira will be safe at home with the guards. My brothers always did the same when we were under heavy attack.”
“They’re fine.”
They were alive but tired, with Zahkar having a sprained wrist trying to get some of our people to safety last night. But, I wasn't about to tell that to Ninel, she'll worry about him.
Her palms flattened against my chest. “And you? How are you dealing with everything?”
God, I loved having her hands on me.
“Nothing I can't handle.”
There was no way I was going to tell her how bad things were getting. The last thing I wanted Ninel to think was that I wasn't a competent faction leader.
For a moment, we just stared at each other. My arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. I was savouring the moment because I didn't want to let her go.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Have you eaten?”
As much as I love Ninel's ferocity, I couldn't deny that I enjoyed the innocent way she was looking up at me now.
“I haven’t.”
“Then have lunch with me. We can have it in the gazebo.”
Her face lit up. “Like a picnic?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “Like a picnic.”
I took one of her hands in mine, then used the other and pulled out my phone.
I ordered the chef to prepare a basket with fruit, cheeses, pastries, salad, cookies, chocolate, and wine.
I told him to take the things to the gazebo with a blanket before hanging up.
I slipped the phone away and looked back at her.
“Printsessa, I’ll take you into the city soon. But promise me you won’t sneak out again…not while things are like this.”
Because I can’t lose you…
I bite my tongue so the words wouldn't tumble out of my mouth.
“I get why you don’t want me in the city,” she said softly. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve understood.”
I lifted a brow, a small smirk teasing my lips.
She rolled her eyes, laughing faintly. “Fine. I would’ve been pissed. But I would’ve understood. I wouldn’t risk myself getting hurt.”
I lifted her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. I watched as a soft pink hue ran across her face before she lowered her eyes.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Shall we?” I extended my free hand toward the gazebo.
She smiled up at me. “We shall.”
As we walked in a comfortable silence, something dawned on me. This wasn’t just lunch. This was our first date as husband and wife. Yes, we were at home but I was determined to ensure it would be memorable for the both of us.