She throws it on, and it swallows her. Even though she’s not that much shorter than me, she’s not nearly as muscular as I am.
She tries to leave with the robe open, but I grab her shoulders and stop her. I close the front all the way up to her neck, then tie the rope tightly. She rolls her eyes but lets me.
We make our way to the dining room, and she grabs the coffee pot. She pours herself a large mug and puts in a dash of sugar. She takes a sip and sighs.
“That’s some damn good coffee,” she says as she takes another gulp.
I try not to preen at the compliment. I didn’t pick out the coffee. Hell, I don’t even know what brand it is. But she likes my coffee, and that fills me with pride.
I make myself a cup and sip it.
We sit at our spots, and I have to hold back a chuckle when she notices it.
Her smile drops, her mouth left agape as she stares at her cutlery. Instead of a silver knife like I have, she has a dull plasticone accompanying the rest of her silverware. She slowly turns her glare on me, but I feign innocence.
She’s out of her damn mind if she thinks I’m giving her weapons after she just stabbed me.
Instead of bitching about it, she huffs a breath and digs in. We both have three fried eggs, two slices of toast, and six pieces of bacon. On the side we have bowls of fruit and yogurt. Yesterday, I made sure Harold knew that she’s to be served the same portion size as I am.
I was astounded yesterday by her outburst. I would never starve her to make her look a certain way. And she’s too skinny anyway. It’s not healthy. Hearing that it’s because Viktor wouldn’t let her eat enough made my blood boil. I already hated the man, but it wasn’t personal before. Now, it is.
“What’s your plan for the day?” I ask her. She can do whatever she wants. I’m not trying to control her. But I’m curious.
“What am I allowed to do?” she fires back sarcastically.
I frown at that. I made it clear she has freedom here. She doesn’t have any limitations.
“You can do whatever you want. Go spoil yourself. Go shopping or something. I’ll give you my card.” I offer the only thing I can think of. Also, her dresses are hideous, and the more I get to know my wife, the less likely it seems that she chose them.
Her eyes narrow.
“What’s my budget?” she counters, as though I care.
“There isn’t one. The card doesn’t have a limit.” Matthias and Bash handle my finances, and they’re damn good at it. She could buy out a mall, and it wouldn’t make a dent.
“So, I can leave? Just like that?” She still sounds doubtful, and I wonder what kind of sheltered life she lived under Viktor’s watch.
“Yes. You just need to let me know where you’re going and have a security detail escorting you. These are just safety measures.” It’s true. But also, I want to make sure she isn’t meeting up with any of those men from her past.The ones with great dicks.I grip my fork tightly as her words echo through my mind.
“Can Nik be my security detail?” She looks so hopeful that I can’t deny her. But who the hell is Nik?
“Who?” I keep my voice even. Maybe it’s one of her girlfriends.
“My guard. I think he moved in yesterday, but I’m not sure where.” Her features soften as she talks about him, and I pray he’s a sixty-year-old grandpa.
“Yeah, he can come. But I want one of my drivers to escort you.” I don’t trust a Bratva soldier with my wife.
I text Harold to get this Nik and bring him here. I want to meet the man who’s in charge of protecting my wife. The man who brings such a smile to her face.
A few minutes later, a man walks in. A tall, muscular man. He’s almost my size.
“Katya, baby! It’s been too long.” He speaks as though he has a claim to her. The nickname has my blood boiling. Who the fuck does he think he is?
I’m waiting for her to snap at him the way she would me, but to my utter horror, she flings out of her chair and runs into his open arms.
He holds her, and she climbs him like a fucking tree, wrapping her legs around his waist. When he’s about to cup her ass, I growl.
He drops her and turns to me. He sends a look at my wife, and she blushes.
