A pang thudded in my chest. Must be hungry.
I started working on the food. That’d solve the problem.
She tilted her head, staring at me in silence as if searching for something.
“The day we sparred, you went easy on me, didn’t you?” she said. There was no smile on her lips, just wariness in her eyes. “You could’ve slowly broken all my bones in front of the Bratva, and it would’ve sent the same message.”
I could’ve made her scream after her first step towards me. Would’ve madeanyone elsewho defied me, scream for my mercy as I mercilessly pushed their body to the limit. But the real question was…
“Why?” she said, her eyes pinned to me.
Fuck if I knew. Why the hell had I dragged her into my house like a caveman after I’d seen the state of her apartment? Why did I keep saving her when I had way more important things to do? Why did the small, rumbling sound in her belly make me hurry to finish cooking this soup?
I’d thought I needed to just fuck her out of my system. But each time I fucked her, the more I wanted to drag my claws into her and make her stay.
“Eat,” was my only reply.
I set down a bowl of borscht in front of her, and to her credit she didn’t ask me if it was poisoned.
“Thanks,” she said before taking a long sip.
Alisa swallowed the soup, and all I could think of was her swallowing ropes of my cum down her throat.
As I imagined face fucking her, I caught her smiling at the soup. I nearly groaned when her tongue darted out and swiped a little liquid off her lips.
“So how’d you become such a good cook?” she said, slurping down another hearty helping.
I’d watched my mother poison my brother after she’d determined he was too weak to be a part of the Pakhan’s competition. After that I cooked all my own meals.
But I didn’t say that. There was a reason to build up walls. I liked it that way. Needed it.
“Because I’m a functioning adult,” I said instead, and she laughed at that.
It wasn’t as easy, or as relaxed as before. For some reason, I wanted to keep her laughing. See the little lines that formed around her eyes when shereallystarted going.
Instead, I picked up my plate, and turned my back on her so I could load the dishwasher.
“I can handle clean up,” she said, bringing her plate over and picking up some dishwashing liquid. “I do know how to dothat,” she added under her breath.
I ignored her and started rinsing out the dishes.
“Go to bed,” I said, nodding towards the guest bedroom she’d slept in last time.
She opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with a firm look.
Alisa brushed her hand through her hair, a yawn sneaking out of her mouth.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I owe you.”
Her words reverberated through my head as I worked in silence.
Chapter forty
Alisa
I stared at the white walls of Dmitri’s guest bedroom, listening to the quiet rush of the kitchen sink. Within the blank whiteness of the room, all I could visualize was the distance of his expression when I’d left him alone a few minutes ago.
Growing up, the most painful thing wasn’t the beatings from my father. It was the moments in between when instead of yanking out fistfuls of my hair and throwing me against a wall, my father patted my head affectionately. It was the moments of hope that built up until they were inevitably dashed again. Those hurt my soul in a way that his fists never did.
