It wouldn’t offend me in the slightest if Pyotr decided to find someone else to take my place in his bed… but the thought of having his men’s hands on me makes my stomach turn, and my heart hammers against my ribs at the greedy glint in their eyes.
“I think it’s time you and yourloyalmen enjoyed the meal I’ve prepared for you—to celebrate your victory today,” I suggest, turning to meet Pyotr’s bloodshot, predatory eyes.
“Hmm, you do know how to feed a man properly, don’t you, my littlepizda?” he teases before grabbing the back of my head and crushing his lips to mine in a lewd and sloppy kiss. “Perhaps I’ll let you warm my bed for one more night,” he jokes when he finally releases me.
Dark chuckles ripple around the room, and I scramble up off his lap as quickly as I can without making my situation worse.
But the victory of the day seems to have left his blood hot, and my anxiety steadily grows as I sit through dinner, watching him banter with his men, drinking shot after shot until they’re all sloppy, only half-able to stand as they make their way home for the night.
The house is eerily quiet as I leave Pyotr to send the men off.
I seriously doubt any of them should be driving, but suggesting that would only earn me a backhand, so instead, I head up the stairs to our master suite, hoping for a few minutes alone to pull myself together.
The clothes have all been neatly folded and put away in my absence.
Thank you, Chastity,I think.
That’s one less reason Pyotr will have to get angry with me when he turns in for the evening.
Heading to the bathroom, I start my nightly routine, washing my face, brushing my teeth, combing out my platinum blond locks and pulling them into a loose braid away from my face.
Pyotr hates it when I take off my makeup. But it’s one thing I’ve insisted on keeping as part of my routine—partially because it would be bad for my skin to never have the chance to breathe, but it also inherently makes him less likely to touch me—and he believes my insistence that washing my face is how I can keep it looking young and beautiful.
I hear the bedroom door slam, the glass pane of the shower wall rattling in response, and then Pyotr’s behind me, his broad chest meeting my back, his greedy hands grasping my waist as he presses my hips into the edge of the counter, grinding against me from behind. I can feel his weak attempt at an erection.
He might want sex, but he’s too drunk to make it happen.
At least, I hope he is.
“I’m going to put a baby into you tonight,” he promises, his hot breath washing across the nape of my neck, and I shudder, my anxiety intensifying because he says it with more conviction than usual.
My pulse quickens, my palms growing clammy.
But I know from the potent smell of alcohol that surrounds him like a cloud after the numerous whiskeys he drank after dinner that he won’t make it that far if I can delay him a little.
“Give me just a few more minutes to get presentable?” I suggest, meeting his glassy eyes in the mirror. “I’ll put on one of those outfits you like.”
He gives a growl of approval and slaps my ass hard enough to make me yelp, then he turns and stalks back to the bedroom with a drunken smirk.
Pressing a hand over my racing heart, I take several steadying breaths as I look at myself in the mirror.
For what must be the hundredth time, I wish I could run away, leave this horrible existence behind.
But I’ve already tried that.
Pyotr’s men are always watching, so I’ve never made it out the front gates.
A shudder ripples through me when I think of the last time I almost escaped.
My life has become a living hell, and I wish there could be some end to it.
But the best that I can hope for is one more night of creeping into bed after Pyotr has already started snoring.
3
MIKO
“Hands up, Gio!” Don Augusta barks as I spar with my two younger brothers on the back lawn of the Chiaroscuro estate.
