“It was the only way to keep you alive without killing you,” he said, turning around.
The bluntness of his response rocked me.
Right from the onset, he’d told me the marriage was the best strategy. But then, it had sounded like an inevitable option, like it was more about the survival of the Bratva.
But now, I wondered what it really cost him to make that decision.
He left my room without a second glance or another word.
I found myself touching the rim of the plate which was still warm from his touch.
What’s happening to me?
Chapter Fourteen
Konstantin’s POV
I’d heard men complain about their women driving them crazy for different reasons, from money to having crazy mood swings. I’d even heard Mikhail accuse Isabella of driving him nuts because she was disrupting his wardrobe. I never thought any of the scenarios were cute, nor did I wish for any of them. But now, I’d gladly have Alina drive me crazy for any of these reasons. I’d happily trade my current place with that of any of them.
Alina was driving me crazy on a whole different level. Unlike a hostage, she didn’t plead or posture. She simply went about smiling with my domestic staff like they were her friends and lashing out at me like I was a devil. If all she did was lash out at me with her words, it might have been okay. But, no. There were times, like the last time she was in my office and earlier in the morning in the dining room, when she looked up at me with a soft expression, like she saw a different person inside of me. Those moments made me want to step closer to her and bask in her presence.
However, the most frustrating times were those when she didn’t exactly do anything. Times she just looked on instead of talking to me or acknowledging me in any way—something that was normal for someone in her position. Times when she told me to stop asking her how she was because I clearly couldn’t care less. What was most frustrating about these times was that I was the one going out of my way. I was the one who wanted her to talk to me, even yell at me. I was the one who wanted to know how she slept when it shouldn’t be my business.
Still, it made me want to pull my hair out that she had so much effect on me. I found myself walking to her door beforeheading to my bedroom after the day’s work. I totally had no reason to, but I always found myself at her door, every night, trying to hear if she was sleeping or just moving around—not that I ever did.
I remembered the other night when I got back and saw her, relaxed on the couch with Greta, every part of me begged to drive all the others away and take a seat close to her. Even when she attributed my concern for her staying up too late to ‘hostage protection’ and yelled at me to stop calling her name, my eyes couldn’t help but register how her soft cardigan fell off her left shoulder, revealing smooth olive skin. The annoyance in her eyes didn’t keep me from noticing the soft curves that the hem of her cardigan didn’t quite cover.
And last night, I had walked out of her room because my thoughts were going haywire. I had decided to take dinner to her myself just to see how she was doing after the ladies had visited. I needed to see if they’d cheered her up or made her feel worse. But I had ended up seeing anything but that. Instead, I’d seen the surprise in her face turn into appreciation, like I could hug her and she wouldn’t resist. I wanted to do that and more, so much more. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment. So I had turned around to leave before she stopped me with an unexpected question. A question so unexpected that I had spilled the truth without thinking.
“Boss,” Sergei called, interrupting my internal ramblings. “The file is in your bag. We’re ready to leave.”
I nodded from where I sat at the head of the dining table with a steaming cup of black tea.
“You go ahead, I’ll join you at the warehouse soon,” I told him. “I’ll have breakfast at home today.”
“Oh…okay, boss,” he answered. “Three of the men will wait behind.”
“Hmm.”
What are you doing to me, Alina?
“Sir?” Greta started, coming out of the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were waiting for breakfast. Should I serve you now?”
“I’m notwaitingfor breakfast,” I clarified. “I’ll call you when it’s time to eat.”
“Okay, sir.”
I emptied my cup of tea and was about to place it back on the table when she appeared, descending the stairs in a pale blue long-sleeved top and grey joggers. She looked so beautiful and delicate. I thought of what it’d feel like to run my hands through her hair and undo the neat twist. Her gaze met mine, and I swallowed at the perception of something…opening.
A frown that looked more surprised than annoyed took over her features as she approached the dining table.
“Good morning, Alina,” I greeted, standing to pull back the chair to my left.
“Good morning, Konstantin.”
How will she react if I tell her how much I love it when she calls my name?
She sighed softly as her back touched the chair.
