9. Giselle
Giselle
Luckily as I wake up and open my eyes, I see the pillow wall I placed between us was still up. The other side of the bed is empty, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
That fucking walking time bomb is driving me insane with his mood swings. One day, he makes me feel like nothing, and the next he’s trying to touch me gently.
I force myself out of the plush bed to go over to one of my suitcases and find my shower items.
I guess it was convenient that I moved into that hotel room and packed most of my crap, but now I have to spend forever unpacking, and I hate the idea that this is supposed to be my new home. Not only because of Artem, but now I’m in a house full of men I don’t even know.
I mean Maxim seems fine in his own weird way, but Roman gives off the vibe that he’s way different than he lets on.
On top of that, they have random men around here all the time, either standing around outside the mansion watching the grounds or making themselves fucking comfortable inside.
I tried to spend as many hours as I could before I went crazy unpacking my things, and to my surprise there was already room made for me in the walk-in closet and a second dresser that wasn’t here that night Artem was piss drunk.
I despise that he’s always acting like this perfect guy, fucking buying me things he knows I’d like and doing things like this, when I know it’s all a huge act.
He’s trying to trick me into not hating him anymore because he’s obsessed for some reason with trying to get me to submit to him like some ‘good wife’.
Never going to happen.
After getting most everything unpacked that I had with me, I finally call it off. Obviously I still have some boxes at my dad’s house, but I’m waiting to deal with it whenever I’m ready to face my dad again.
Plus, I’m glad that I feel like Caesar and I are okay again, but I’m confused about why my Uncle Robert and Leo chose to show up to my wedding.
My cousin is . . . not usually someone Caesar hangs around. Well, they were close up until my mother died, but then my uncle and Leo both took a step from the Family. And from us. It hurt because we were all so close.
I was happy to see them all at my wedding but . . . Leo has always been one of the guys who you stay away from, because they always seem like they’re up to no good; He was always dragging Caesar into something.
Although, Caesar has always been the type who sees the good in everyone, so maybe he is trying to give Leo a chance? I can’t imagine my dad being okay with it though, because when my uncle left the mafia, he and my father had a pretty shitty falling out.
They saved face for my wedding, but I know that it’s still tense. Of course, I wish more than anything all my family would make up. Maybe I should reach out to Leo?
I change into some joggers and a long sleeve as I make my way downstairs, wondering who would be around. I peek around the hallway, but I’m not hearing much. Just as I go down the staircase, I hear a woman excitedly call my name.
When I turn, I realize Artem’s mother must have stayed here last night.
“O—oh good morning,” I awkwardly muster as she comes over to give me a hug.
If Artem grew up with such an affectionate mother, why the fuck is he such a douchebag?
“Come sit with me dochenka,” she ushers me to the dining table and makes me sit next to her.
Yay, more nicknames.
“I was just so happy to see my son married to such a beautiful young woman,” she says, clasping her hands together and laying her cheek on them. “And Roman tells me you even went to a good college?”
I nod awkwardly, pursing my lips. “Yes, I went to Columbia for my business degree.”
“Oy, how impressive!”
I smile at her excitement over me just going to college. It’s nice having someone recognize something I’ve done. I feel a sense of warmth from her that I haven’t felt in years since my mom passed.
She suddenly stands, “How rude of me not to ask.” I’m about to ask her what she means when I see her going over to the teapot on the stove, and I shake my head politely. She pours herself a cup of tea and comes back to sit next to me.
“I didn’t see your mother yesterday,” she asks softly as she takes a sip of her tea.
I shake my head slowly. “My mother passed years ago.”
She puts her hand on the back of mine on the table, but spares me the obligatory apology. “Well, I’m sure that was hard for you yesterday then, I hope Artem wasn’t too cold.”
I almost laugh but I stop myself. I have to remember to put on a good face. “He was fine.”
She sighs, setting her teacup down. “Artem takes a long time to warm up, but he was always such a sweet little boy. He was compassionate, and a lot like me—well until Sara passed away. So be patient with him,” she says with a soft smile.
Who the hell is Sara?
“Sorry, but Sara?” I ask, tilting my head.
She nods, and sighs. “Artem and her were—”
“Mama, how great that you’re talking to my new wife already,” Artem says it politely, but I can tell he’s talking through his teeth.
He comes in to kiss her cheek and then tries to do the same to me, but my hand pinches his side hard to tell him not to even try it, so he ruffles my hair to piss me off.
“Oy she is just so lovely! I really dreamed of having a daughter, you know? I’ve been waiting for one of my sons to marry forever,” she says, holding my hands in hers.
I smile at her but look up to Artem, who’s standing there with an unreadable expression. “I fly back in the morning with his father, so we don’t have a lot of time. But I hope to be back when we get news about my grandbaby!”
My eyes widen at her remark and Artem lets out a deep laugh, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“You’ll be the first one we call, Mama,” he says to her as he squeezes my shoulder, to tell me not to say a word.
“Well, let me leave the newlyweds,” she says with a wink as she leaves the kitchen, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
“I don’t know how a woman like that birthed someone like you,” I retort as I stand from the chair to face him.
He chuckles and leans back against his marble countertop, with his arms across his chest. His black button up is tight against him as his muscles pull on the fabric.
“Nothing is wrong with me, solnishko. Perhaps if you were less stubborn, you could see how nice I can really be.”
I roll my eyes at his suggestive comment. “Where have you been anyway?”
“Already worried about where your husband goes?”
I roll my eyes again and turn around to open his fridge.
“I had a meeting with one of our suppliers early.” He offers the information easily, almost like he cared that I knew.
I sigh as I look through the fridge, not finding anything good to drink. “Do you guys ever buy juice or cider or is this house just full of fucking alcohol?”
He chuckles as he comes over to the fridge, pressing himself against my back as he reaches in.
“There’s berezovy sok,” he says, pulling out a carton.
“Berry what?”
He pulls me back by my waist so he can close the fridge and pours some in a glass.
“We’re going to have to get you to learn some Russian,” he says with a chuckle as he holds the glass out to me. “Birch sap, it’s sweet. Try it.”
I look up at him, wondering if this is going to be the most disgusting thing in the world and he can’t wait to see my reaction. Against my better judgment, I bring the cup to my lips and take a small taste.
“Oh, wow,” I say as I raise my brows. It was sweet, but definitely not at all what I was expecting.
“You like it?” I look up at him, and his eyes look weirdly soft. My heart flutters a bit but I quickly shake it off, remembering who is standing in front of me. I hope he doesn’t think we’re having a moment or something.
“It isn’t bad, but I’m not sure how I feel yet,” I admit as I take another sip.
“Just write a list and put it on the counter, I’ll have someone get whatever you want here.”
I raise my eyebrow and set the cup down.
“Okay,” I say awkwardly, as he stands there with his stupid charming smile, watching me. “What?” I ask, furrowing my brows and crossing my arms.
“Nothing,” he says with a smug smile as he shrugs, standing up straight. “I have business today at the warehouse, so I won’t be back until late.” He reaches into his pocket and grabs his wallet, pulling out a card and handing it to me.
“What’s this?”
“My card, use it when you need it. You can order yourself dinner since I’m gone tonight.”
I put his card on the counter. “I don’t need your stupid credit card, I have my own.”
“Your own? Or is it your father’s?”
I don’t answer, clenching my jaw.
“You,” he says, grabbing the card again, using it to put under my chin to lift my head up as he brings his face towards mine.
“Will be using my money. You are my wife; you won’t be relying on another man to give you anything.
” He drops his hand and sticks the card swiftly into the pocket of my joggers, and I glare at him. “Are we understood?”
“No, we aren’t,” I challenge, crossing my arms again.
“Are you going to make me punish you on the dining room table solnishko? Or will you be a good girl and just do as I say for once?”
A deep laugh comes from the large doorway, and we both turn.
Oh my fucking God.
I’m mortified as I see Artem’s father standing there, having heard the conversation. My hands fall to my sides, and I know the look on my face is obvious.
“You have your hands full, Artem,” he chuckles as he enters the kitchen. Artem puts his hand on my lower back and greets his father. “And good morning to you,” his father says to me.
His father is intimidating, and it takes me a moment to muster a greeting back to him. I’ve never talked to him before, and I’m confused how a man this scary-looking has such a sweet, bubbly wife.
“I’m glad to see you two getting along.”
Getting along? Is he joking?
“I hope my son isn’t being too strict with you, I know his mother reminded him to be careful how he treats his wife,” he jokes, with a soft chuckle before he continues. “Don’t be too hard on him, he means well.”