The silence she leaves behind is thick and sour. I stare down at the sauce simmering in the pan. I’d thought inviting her in might help, but all I did was light a match to her anger. And now, instead of peace, there’s just the uneasy certainty that I’ve made things worse.
I really need a breather from all this.
When Petyr gets home, I’m going to suggest we stay in the city for a few days. God knows we could both use the break, and maybe some distance from Kira will keep the walls from closing in around here. I can use lunch with Jemma as the perfect excuse, cash in on that promise I texted her earlier. A little normalcy with my best friend, a little space away from this suffocating house, and maybe I’ll feel less like I’m constantly being measured, watched, and found lacking.
I can already picture how I’ll say it: casually, like it’s no big deal.Hey, Petyr, wouldn’t it be fun to spend a couple nights in the city? Hotels have better sheets anyway.Something light, maybe with a smile so he doesn’t hear the desperation underneath.
Because itisdesperation—I’m starting to feel like if I don’t get out soon, even just for a few days, I might actually scream. A museum won’t cut it this time, either.
I pace from the stove to the counter, then back again, wiping my palms uselessly on the dish towel. My stomach aches, not from hunger but from nerves.
Will he agree? Hard to say. He likes control, having me tucked safely away where he can keep an eye on me. But today has already shown me that if I ask for what I want—if I frame it the right way—he sometimes surprises me. Maybe he’ll even welcome the idea of a change of scenery.
And if not… Well, I’ll just have to remind him that a restless, stir-crazy wife isn’t exactly the best environment for producing an heir.
The thought of a little getaway alone makes my shoulders loosen a fraction, though it doesn’t last long. I stir the sauce, but my hand trembles, betraying me.
Every time I replay Kira’s words, they cut deeper. She looked at me like I took her place at the table, stole her chair before she could sit down.
The worst part? A small, guilty voice inside me agrees with her.
I didn’t ask for this life, but I’m the one standing here, stirring dinner in her kitchen, wearing her brother-in-law’s ring.
Maybe that makes me a thief after all.
41
PETYR
Lev’s name flashes on my phone, and I swipe to answer. “What?”
“We’ve got them,” Lev says, his voice brisk. “The ones who hit the truck. Just brought them in. They’re at the south warehouse.”
I straighten in my chair, pen dropping from my hand. “Alive?”
“For now.”
That’s all I need. “I’ll be there in twenty.” I hang up before he can say more.
The ride across the city is long enough to stew in my own thoughts. I stare out at the blur of headlights, the rumble of the engine loud against the silence inside me.
I should feel satisfied. We finally have the bastards who stole from me. But satisfaction isn’t what comes. It’srage, coiled tight, because they dared cross me in the first place. Becausemy men were careless enough to let it happen. Because Mikhael will no doubt have something to say about all of it.
When I step into the warehouse, Lev and Ivan are waiting, and of course Mikhael is leaning against a steel beam with that look on his face. Like he’s already written the ending of this story, and I’m too blind to see it.
“They were hiding in an old garage outside the city,” Lev explains. “Didn’t put up much of a fight.”
“Idiots,” Ivan grunts. “We dragged them in quick. No one saw.”
“Quick, right,” Mikhael snarks. “If you call weeks of running around like headless chickens ‘quick’, then sure, by all means.”
“Cut it out, Mikh,” I growl. “I’m not in the mood.”
He seems to want to snark more, but he thinks better of it. Instead, he pivots smoothly, “Anatoli will still hear about it. Word travels. He’ll make you out to be sloppy for letting it get this far.”
My jaw tightens. “He’ll hear what I want him to hear.”
Mikhael smirks with little conviction, but I ignore it, turning to the two men tied to chairs at the center of the room. One is already bleeding from Lev’s initial work, lip split, eyes swelling. The other one looks too young to already have his life end here.
