Chapter Six
Igor
“What are you wearing?”
Audrey ignores my question as she walks to the other end of the table and sits down.
It’s the morning after our wedding, and after spending the entire evening introducing her to my allies and business partners, we’d both been too exhausted for dinner, let alone an argument.
. I’d left her in the master bedroom and taken one of the guest rooms, deciding we’d discuss the rules of this marriage after we’d both had some sleep.
My gaze drags over her before I can stop it.
A thin white shirt hangs loosely over her body, the material so sheer that the outline of her nipples is impossible to ignore beneath the morning sunlight pouring through the windows.
The pair of black sleep shorts she wears is somehow even worse. They cling to every curve before ending scandalously high on her thighs, revealing far too much smooth skin for my peace of mind.
A groan rumbles from my chest, and I loosen my tie. It’s either that or I’ll suffocate.
God.
She’s fucking beautiful.
Despite the year I spent without her, I never forgot her face. But now it somehow seems like my memories didn’t do any justice to her beauty. Either that or she’s grown even more beautiful over time.
I admit I fucked up when I spoke to her the way I did that morning, but it’s a surprise to me that I haven’t punished her for attempting to mess up my life over it.
I’ve killed men for less.
Yet with her, I somehow have more patience that I’ve ever offered anyone else, my brother included. It’s interesting how much of a hold she has over me.
“Well, good morning to you too, husband,” she says cheerfully, grabbing a plate from the center of the table and filling it up with food. “You look constipated.”
She has an insane habit of ignoring my questions, and I have to fix that as soon as possible.
“What,” I ask again, slowly this time, “are you wearing?”
She takes a bite of toast and shrugs casually. “Clothes. Welcome to Earth, alien.”
Before I can reply, the kitchen door creaks open and one of the chefs walks in, carrying a tray loaded with grilled meat.
He’s a young man named Dan, if I remember correctly. He only started working here a month ago.
He takes two steps toward the table before his eyes drift upward…toward Audrey. Then his steps falter and his ears turn bright red before his entire face follows.
I watch him intently, but he doesn’t take his eyes off my wife.
No.
His gaze lingers on her face for a moment, then slowly dips much lower than it should.
A strange heat unfurls inside my chest, raging and hot like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s possessive, and grows even more feral when he swallows.
As if finally noticing the storm raging beside him, he collects himself and quickly tears his eyes away from my wife, nearly fumbling the tray.
Audrey smiles at him politely. “Be careful.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He sets the tray on the table with shaky hands, and Audrey helps him.
“What’s your name?”
“Dan, ma’am.”
“Good morning, Dan,” Audrey says.
The idiot actually smiles back, scratching the back of his head. “Good morning, Mrs. Nazarov.”
“Thanks for the meat. I’ll have some orange juice too, please,” Audrey says politely, maintaining her smile.
“Of course, ma’am.”
Dan disappears into the kitchen.
“Do you think your allies bought the excuse of us being married?” Audrey asks, drawing my attention away from the spot where Dan was standing seconds ago.
“Probably.”
She glances at me, clearly confused. “What does that even mean?”
“I put up appearances where I needed to. What they believe is up to them. What matters is that you’re not responsible for the raid and we’re married.”
She drops her fork and stares at me intently. “Do you trust me that much?”
“I don’t trust you, Audrey. Not even in the slightest bit.”
It’s something I learned quite early in the bratva—no one can be trusted, especially not a woman who tried to make me lose everything only a year ago.
She smiles, and it’s more beautiful than the sunrise itself. “Then why did you marry me?”
“Because it’s safer.”
Safer for her, since I now have her under my protection, and only a madman would dare to hurt my woman?
Or safer for me, because not only does it pass the message that I wasn’t responsible for the raid that night, but the thought of another man having what I want would drive me straight down the path of insanity?
“Safer for me?” she scoffs and stabs a piece of carrot with her fork. “If that’s what you’re worried about, then I can assure you I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
A smile tugs on her lips. It’s far from innocent. “You underestimate me.”
“Underestimate you?” A chuckle rips from my throat. “You nearly burned down everything I’ve built. I’d be a fool to trust you. You know the saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
She tilts her head and her smile turns derisive. “So you consider me an enemy?”
“That would mean you’re a worthy opponent.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re going to regret you said that someday.”
I don’t get the chance to ask what she means before Dan returns with a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and two glasses that he sets on the table.
“Would you like me to pour it?”
Audrey nods. “Yes, please.”
Dan’s gaze moves to her thighs for a moment, and I can see the way he swallows before he begins pouring the juice.
My throat tightens, and something inside me finally snaps. It’s an unfamiliar feeling that makes me want to shoot him right where he’s standing.
“Put it down.”
He freezes.
Even Audrey finally looks up from her breakfast, her eyes bouncing between me and Dan in confusion.
I don’t take my eyes off him, and he shifts awkwardly beneath my stare as he slowly sets the juice on the table, his hand flexing against the serving tray.
His breathing grows uneven with fear.
Good. He should be afraid.
“What day of the month is this?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
“Uh…” He pauses and draws a deep breath. “Fourth of July, sir.”
“You’re fired. Collect your paycheck before you leave.”
His face drains of color, and from the corner of my eye, I can see Audrey’s eyes widening with surprise.
“Sir?”
My nostrils flare with irritation. “You’ll lose an eye if I have to repeat myself.”
His mouth falls open. “I…I don’t understand,” he mutters. “Please, sir.”
Audrey lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Igor. You can’t just fire him without reason.”
I have a reason. The idiot had his eyes on my wife for almost a minute, and he even dared to swallow like she was an object crafted to please him.
I barely blame the lad, though. It’s not his fault she’s fucking hot, but I don’t give a shit about exonerating him. He’s lucky he still has eyes.
“You’re wrong. I can.”
She leans back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, amusement dancing in those hazel eyes that have always been far too expressive. “You think I don’t know what this is about? You’re firing him because he looked at me.”
If I thought Dan was afraid before, then the horror on his face right now goes beyond terror. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.”
I don’t answer.
“It’s fine. Just don’t do it again,” Audrey tells him, then waves her hand to dismiss him. “You can leave.”
Dan glances at me, but he doesn’t wait for my reaction before he scurries off to the kitchen.
I straighten and stare intently at the woman sitting across from me. No one around me has ever dared to override my orders before now. I’m amazed by this woman’s audacity and how little she seems to fear me, which comes as a shock because most people are terrified of me.
“I didn’t give you the right to dismiss him.”
She cocks a brow, then continues eating as if she doesn’t care about my reaction. “I didn’t need your permission.”
“This is my house.”
“And I’m your wife.” She raises her head and shoots a daring smile at me. “Not a pretty puppet for your power games. I’ll do whatever I want, with or without your permission.”
Instead of anger, amusement swells inside me. I have a feeling things are going to get interesting from here on out, and I can’t wait to see what my little wife has in store for me. Looks like I didn’t make the wrong decision in marrying her after all. I love a good challenge.
“Do as you please,” is all I say before filling my own plate with grilled sausages, baked beans, and stir-fried veggies.
“When are you moving your things out?”
I tilt my head. “Moving my things out from where?”
She rolls her eyes as if she’s annoyed that she has to explain herself. “The master bedroom. I can’t share a room with you.”
I snort, amused. “We’re married.”
She nods once. “True, but only because you threatened me and said it’s only for appearances.”
I feign ignorance for the sole purpose of annoying her. “Did I?”
“Are you having early-onset dementia? It could be a good time to write your will,” she retorts, and the sarcasm dripping in her tone makes me smirk.
“You won’t be in my will.” I clear my throat, serious now. “We’re sharing the master bedroom, and you’d better get used to the idea of us being married. I’ve told you, you won’t escape me again.”
“Can’t I?” Mischief dances in her hazel eyes. “I think I could if I murdered you in your sleep.”
“Good luck with that,” I tell her, raising my glass of juice to toast her. “You’d be dead before you even made it out of the room. I’d need company in the afterlife, you know.”
She glares at me, then sighs. “You’re insane.”
I chuckle. “That makes two of us.”
Clearly annoyed the conversation didn’t go how she intended, she pushes up from her seat. “I’ll have my things moved to the master dressing room today. You can have your stuff moved to the guest room.”
With that, she walks away gingerly.
It’s hard not to stare at the way her ass bounces with each step as she heads for the staircase, and the sight sends a jolt straight to my cock.
Fuck!
I’ve been with many women. So many that even Ruslan believes sex doesn’t move me any longer. Yet here I am, gripping the ends of my self-control when it comes to her, the woman I should hate for fucking with me.