Chapter Fourteen #2
“Tell me the truth.” I caught her wrists, pinning them gently but firmly. “Tell me who called you. Tell me what they said. Tell me what has you so terrified that you’re crying in the garden alone rather than coming to me for help.”
“I can’t!” She was sobbing now, her whole body shaking. “Don’t you understand? If I tell you, everything falls apart. Everything.”
“Then let it fall apart.” I released one of her wrists to cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “Let it all burn. I’ll build you something better from the ashes.”
“You can’t fix this with money or power or violence.” Her eyes met mine, filled with a grief so deep it made my chest ache. “Some things are just broken, Alexei. Some things can’t be fixed.”
“You’re not broken.” The words came out fierce, certain. “Whatever this is, whoever is trying to hurt you, we’ll handle it together. But you have to trust me. You have to let me in.”
“I want to.” Her voice cracked. “God, I want to tell you everything. But I’m so afraid of what you’ll do.”
“Then be afraid.” I pulled her against me, one hand tangling in her hair, the other splayed across her back. “Be terrified. But tell me anyway. Because this?” I gestured between us. “This distance, these secrets—this is what will destroy us. Not whatever threat is out there.”
“You’re lying to me,” I said quietly. “You’re keeping secrets that can put you in danger. And you’re asking me to just… what? Trust that you know what you’re doing? Trust that whoever called you has your best interests at heart?”
“No,” she negated, shaking her head as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Then she moved out of my hold, running a hand through her hair. “Ugh… “ she groaned, rolling her head back. “This is an impossible situation.”
“Tell me about it,” I remarked, my voice devoid of humor.
“You’re making things difficult. Just let me be. I’m not putting myself at any risk, okay?!” she lashed out.
“I’ll believe that when I know who’s been contacting you,” I dropped.
“Gosh! You don’t own me, Alexei. Yes, you’re my husband and—”
“Your husband... “ I interrupted. “I’ve never heard you call me that.”
She froze, eyes going wide a fraction like she hadn’t meant to say it. “I—”
“Say it again.”
“Alexei—”
“Say it.” I gripped her shoulders, something desperate and raw clawing its way up my throat. “You’ve never said it before. Say it again.”
“You’re my husband.” She sighed, then rolled her eyes like she wasn’t the woman who was close to cursing me out just a minute ago.
“And it hasn’t been as bad as I had feared.
Even when you’re being impossible, controlling, and terrifying, I still see your care and concern.
And that’s why all this is crazy. That’s why I can’t tell you everything yet.
Because I know what you’ll do, and I can’t bear the thought of—”
“You’re rambling,” I muttered before claiming those soft lips with mine.
She chuckled against my lips and started kissing me back.
I kissed her with all the pent-up rage and desperate need that had been building since I’d discovered someone was reaching her.
She made a sound against my lips—protest or surrender, I couldn’t tell—and then her hands were in my hair, pulling me closer even as she trembled.
The kiss turned violent, teeth and tongue, and the taste of her tears mixed with desperation.
I backed her against the window, the cold glass at her back, my body pressed against her front.
My hands roamed her curves—the swell of her breasts, the gentle roundness of her belly where our child grew, the dip of her waist.
Mine. All mine. And I’d kill anyone who tried to take her from me.
“Tell me,” I growled against her mouth. “Tell me who’s threatening you.”
“I can’t.” She arched against me, her body betraying her even as she denied me.
“You don’t get to keep this from me.” My hands found the hem of the shirt she wore, sliding underneath to find bare skin. “You don’t get to shut me out.”
“Then don’t make me choose.” Her voice broke. “Don’t make me choose between you and—”
She cut herself off, but the damage was done. Between me and someone else. Someone she was protecting at the cost of her own safety.
The rage that flooded through me was white-hot, blinding. “Who?” I demanded. “Who are you protecting?”
“Stop.” She pushed at my chest. “Just stop.”
But I couldn’t. The thought of her putting someone else—anyone else—above our family, above our safety, made something savage rise up in me. I captured her wrists again and pinned them above her head with one hand.
“You’re mine,” I said against her throat, my free hand sliding up her thigh. “My wife. The mother of my child. You don’t get to protect other people at your own expense.”
“That’s not—” She gasped as my fingers found her core, already wet despite—or because of—the tension between us. “God, Alexei—”
“Tell me.” I slid my finger into her expertly, knowing exactly how to make her fall apart. “Tell me, and I’ll make you feel good, you know I can. Keep lying, and I’ll leave you wanting.”
“That’s not fair.” But her hips rolled against my hand, seeking more friction.
“Nothing about this is fair.” I bit down on her shoulder, not quite gentle. “You’re asking me to ignore threats against my family. To trust that you know better than me how to handle danger. That’s not fair either.”
Her head fell back against the window, eyes squeezed shut, breath coming in short gasps. “I’m trying to protect everyone. Including you.”
“I don’t need your protection.” My thumb found her clit, circling with deliberate pressure. “I need your honesty.”
“Please.” She was shaking now, close to the edge. “Please don’t make me choose.”
Hell, she looked so hot and beautiful that I was almost distracted myself. The desperation in her voice cut through my anger like a knife. I stilled my hand, rested my forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“I can’t lose you,” I whispered. “I can’t watch someone hurt you because I was too afraid to push. Don’t you understand? This is torture for me, too.”
Her eyes opened, meeting mine. In their depths, I saw love and fear and grief all tangled together. “I know. I know it is. But if I tell you now, before I’m sure, you’ll do something you can’t take back. And I can’t live with that weight.”
She moved her hips against my hand again.
I wanted to make her beg and break until she told me everything—that was the plan.
But the way she looked up at me with those lustful eyes made me hunger for her moans.
However, the actual straw that broke the camel’s back was the surrender and helplessness in her expression, in the way she held on to me.
Like she knew I had the key to the pleasure she craved and understood the possibility of my refusing to oblige her.
So I covered her mouth with mine as I added one more finger and started to move inside her. She came in seconds, her body quivering as she whispered my name like it was too precious to be spoken aloud. I licked my fingers, the taste of her making my boxers even tighter.
We stood frozen like that, pressed together against the window while snow fell outside. Two people trapped by circumstances, neither of us knew how to navigate.
Finally, I stepped back enough to let her breathe.
“Fine,” I said, my voice rough. “You want time? I’ll give you time. But not much. And in the meantime, security around you triples. You don’t go anywhere without guards. You don’t make any calls, take any calls, or communicate with anyone I haven’t vetted personally.”
“Alexei—”
“Non-negotiable.” I held up a hand. “You want to keep your secrets? Fine. But you do it safely. Those are my terms.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“And Mila?” I caught her chin, forced her to look at me. “If whoever is contacting you makes another move, if they threaten you in any way, you tell me immediately. No more protecting them. No more trying to handle it yourself. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” The word was barely a whisper.
I wanted to push harder. Wanted to demand answers until she broke. But the exhaustion in her eyes, the defeat in her posture—it made me hate myself more than I hated whoever was playing these games.
So instead I pulled her against me, wrapped my arms around her, and held her while she cried. Her tears soaked my shirt, and her body shook with silent sobs, and I stood there feeling utterly helpless in a way that no amount of power or money or violence could fix.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered eventually. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Your tears are gutting me deeply enough already.” The words came out bitter. “Even if you’re making the wrong choice.”
She pulled back, looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “What if there is no right choice? What if every option ends badly?”
“Then we pick the option that keeps you alive.” I wiped tears from her cheeks with my thumb. “Everything else is negotiable.”
Something in her expression shifted—resolve hardening beneath the grief. “I need you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“When the truth comes out—and it will, eventually—I need you to remember that I was trying to protect everyone. Not just myself. Not just the person I’m…” She trailed off. “Just remember that my intentions were good, even if my choices were questionable.”
The words sent ice down my spine. “Mila, who are you protecting?”
“Promise me first.”
I studied her face, seeing the determination beneath the fear. Whatever secret she was keeping, it was big enough to make her risk everything. Big enough to put herself between me and someone I’d presumably want dead.
“I promise I’ll remember your intentions,” I said carefully. “But I can’t promise I’ll forgive the consequences.”
“Fair enough.” She gave me a sad smile. “That’s all I can ask for.”
She kissed me then, soft and sweet and tasting of salt. I kissed her back, trying to memorize the moment—the warmth of her body against mine, the gentle swell of our child between us, the way she fit perfectly in my arms despite everything trying to tear us apart.
When we finally broke apart, she led me to the bed.
She straddled me, and we made love slowly, carefully, with a tenderness that felt like both a promise and a goodbye.
Her hands mapped my body like she was trying to memorize it.
I worshipped every inch of her skin, branded her with kisses, and whispered words that might have been prayers or threats.
Afterward, she curled against my side, one hand on my chest, the other on her belly. I felt the moment she fell asleep, her breathing evened out, her body finally relaxing.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I stared at the ceiling while snow continued to fall outside, my mind running through scenarios and possibilities. If someone was trying to reach her, they’d already found a way in.
Outside, the snow fell more heavily, burying the estate beneath layers of white. Inside, I held my wife and prepared for war.
I don’t forgive trespass.