They file past me one by one, but none of them look at me. Vuk is the last to leave and he pauses in the doorway to say, "Tomorrow, Boss," then he steps out and shuts the door behind himself.
Vadim hasn't moved since I got in except to speak, and his cigar still streams thick white smoke into the air. I know I might not have any real right to complain that they were all here making a mess and making the house stink, but I do deserve a safe, clean environment.
"What was that?" I probably sound harpy and tired, but I don't care. I am harpy and tired. I just want to sleep.
"Nothing you need to worry about." Vadim leans forward and starts brushing ash into his palm to drop into the ashtray, but I'm sick of his dismissing me like that.
I've been tiptoeing around this man for weeks now doing everything he asked me to do. I tidy up during the day and leave him alone to do his evil job. If I come home to a bunch of criminals in the living room, I have a right to know what they’re doing. I don't want to be associated with his crimes.
"You brought them here." I gesture at the coffee table. "Into the house."
"It's my house." He drops a handful of ash into the ashtray and his palm is black from it. He wipes it on his jeans as he says, "I can do what I want."
"It's supposed to be our house," I snip, though I know it's not really true. When he hoped to bridge this gap, I pushed him away. We've barely spoken since. I have no right to claim ownership over his home, but I have to try to stand up for myself. "That's the whole point of this, isn't it?"
He stands up slowly and sets his cigar in the ashtray before wiping his hands on his jeans again. He looks frustrated with me, and I just don't care. "Don't throw that at me when you've been treating me like a stranger for the past week and a half."He walks past me toward the kitchen. "You don't get to play the outraged wife now."
I follow him into the kitchen where he stands at the sink washing his hands. Maybe he's right, but it doesn't stop me from being annoyed. I should've just told him how Petr grabbed me and Zoran had to defend me, but I didn't want him thinking he could go after Petr. I have enough issues with the man without Vadim getting involved in it.
"I don't want to be part of whatever you're doing." I lean against the counter. "Whatever criminal activity you're running. I don't want any part of it."
"You're already part of it." He turns off the water and dries his hand with a dishtowel. "You became part of it when you married me."
"You damn well know you never gave me a choice," I snarl angrily, trying to make a point, and it makes his temper flare.
Vadim closes the distance between us and slams his hands against the counter on either side of me. His face is inches from mine and his eyes are blazing with anger. "Watch how you speak with me. I'm not going to keep pretending to play nice forever."
"I hate you," I hiss, though I must admit his being this close to me makes my pulse race. Vadim is so powerful and sometimes, that power and fury are a turn-on even when I'm angry with him.
"No, you don't," he snarls. " You hate that every night, you lie in that bed wishing I would touch you."
"You stupid asshole," I hiss, and I try to walk away but he pins me in, not letting me get past him. It's worse than Petr, andyet it's intoxicating. I do want him to touch me, and he's so goddamn infuriating and I feel like a fool for wanting it.
"Move," I order, but he grips my jaw and forces me to look at him.
"This is my house, Danica, and sometimes I have work here. I asked my men to leave as soon as you walked in so you could relax. Now if you want to speak to me like a nagging wife, then you will perform the duties of a wife." As he speaks, his eyes dart around my face and drop to my lips before returning to hold my gaze.
"Fuck you," I say sternly, but now he has my attention. I realized the instant those men got up at his order that he had asked them to leave. I thought it was to protect his secrets. I never realized he did that for me.
"Talk to me like that again. I dare you," he says as he shakes my jaw a bit to get my attention.
My blood is pumping, and my fingers tingle to touch him, my body to be touched by him. But the way he's looking at me is pure rage, not lust. I don’t know if he wants to devour me or break my neck. I never can tell the difference. Besides, we don’t even like each other.
He doesn't make any attempt to make this seem like a real marriage. We don't talk. When I come to bed, he's sleeping or pretending to be, and he never waits to have coffee with me. That isn't any relationship.
And I don't want to be that woman who throws her body at a man. Not even a man she's married to. It's just gross. I want to be wanted.
"I said, fuck you, you bastard. Let me go now." My chest is heaving in a yo-yo between wanting him and wanting him to let me go. But I'm leaning heavily on the former.
Vadim doesn't back away. Instead he lets his hand slide from my jaw to my neck where he squeezes gently, letting his fingers trail over my pulse point for a moment.
"You have no idea how infuriating you are."
"You have no idea how much I want to kick you in the balls right now," I snarl, but honestly, it's the last thing from my mind. He might be a total jerk at times, but this man knows how to make my body come alive. I've felt it. It's coursing through my body right now.
"Are you as turned on as I am?" he asks me softly, with his lips inches from mine, and I nod at him.
"Every fucking cell in my body," I respond, and his other hand grips my waist, pulling me against him.
