Breaking the kiss as he pushed the door open, I told him, “Mikhail, I have to tell you something.”
Shutting the door behind us, he kissed me again, moving further into the room.
I broke the kiss again, and he rested his forehead against mine.
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” he practically lamented.
“No, it can’t,” I answered, my voice pleading.
“Don’t give me those eyes, it’s fraud,” he complained, sighing tiredly as he moved towards the bed.
“Eyes? What eyes?” I questioned, genuinely surprised as my butt landed on the bed.
“You plead with your eyes,” he said, sitting beside me at the foot of the bed. “Too sexy for a man to think straight.”
I laughed, throwing my head back.
“Mikhail, I have no idea.”
“Of course, you don’t,” he agreed. “Too sexy for your own good.”
“Can you please stop with the unsolicited compliments? I thought you had an attack to brace for.”
“They are facts, not compliments.”
I placed my joined hands on my lap as I sighed.
Here goes nothing.
“There is something you need to know,” I started, sighing.
“Are you about to ask for a divorce?”
“No, not that,” I rushed, chuckling. “Why would you think that?”
“You’re uneasy. I couldn’t think of worse news.”
“It’s not exciting news,” I admitted.
“Okay, what is it?”
“You know, when your men came over to my dad’s place to take me, and I ended up in your house, I didn’t actively object.”
He nodded.
“And, even as we got married, I seemed fine with the idea. Too fine,” I pointed out, releasing a silent sigh. “Well, it was because I had a motive. I thought you were making it even easier for me when you mentioned marriage.”
His gaze remained steady on me.
“I was so sure you ordered the hit that killed Giovanni. I thought you were responsible for his death, with you being the most explosive of the Lobanov Bratva brothers and whatnot. I was so deep in pain over losing him that working out a plan to avenge him was the only thing I could pour all my energy into. I blamed you for taking him away from me,” I revealed.
“It’s hard to miss that. You always said it,” he remarked, his voice calm.
I nodded before continuing.
“I had a plan, a motive. I didn’t mind marrying you at all because I wanted to ruin you. My plan was to get close to you, get all your Bratva secrets and maybe some personal ones, and then betray you. I pretended to be resigned to your decision solely because I was sharpening my plans against you,” I confessed.
I had expected him to let out an angry bellow that I was a liar and a manipulator. Or stalk out silently, looking down at me with disgust and irritation at my betrayal.
