“Customs flagged three containers. They say the documentation doesn’t match the manifest.”
“And does it?”
The man hesitated—just a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to know he was about to lie. “It should match. Maybe paperwork error—”
“Don’t.” Alexei’s voice didn’t rise. Clearly didn’t need to. The single word cut through the air like a blade. “Don’t lie to me, Ruslan.”
The man paled slightly. “I… there may have been some confusion about which forms—”
Alexei moved so fast I barely saw it. One moment, he was standing beside me, the next his fist connected with Ruslan’s nose with a sickening crunch. The man staggered back, blood already streaming down his face. I flinched involuntarily.
“You skimmed,” Alexei declared, his voice still perfectly calm. “You thought I wouldn’t notice. That you could hide a few extra items in legitimate shipments and pocket the profit.”
“Sir, I swear—”
“Don’t you fucking swear. And don’t ever think you’re smarter than me.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket—monogrammed, expensive—and wiped his knuckles clean. “You’re done here. Gather your things and be off my property in an hour. If I see you again, the next thing that breaks won’t be your nose.”
Ruslan didn’t speak another word. Clutching his face, he stumbled away, leaving drops of blood on the concrete.
And Alexei turned back to me as if nothing had happened. His hand found my back again, warm through my coat, and I realized I was shaking. Not from fear, exactly. But from the sudden understanding of what it meant to be married to a man who broke bones as easily as he buttoned his cuffs.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
I wanted to say yes. To pretend that watching him hurt someone didn’t affect me. But I’d never been good at lying, especially not to myself.
“That was…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“Necessary,” Alexei supplied matter-of-factly. “He stole from me. If I let that slide, others will think they can do the same. This world doesn’t allow for weakness, Mila.”
I knew that. Logically, I understood the brutal mathematics of it. But understanding and accepting were two different things.
“I know what you are,” I said, echoing the words I spoke to him yesterday. “But watching it is different from knowing it.”
Something flickered across his face—too quick to name, but it might be regret. Or maybe just acknowledgment.
“I know. That’s why I brought you here. I need you to see who I am. Not just in our bed, but out here. Where it matters.”
“Because you think I’ll run?”
“Because I think you deserve the truth.” His hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin there. “I won’t pretend to be something I’m not, Mila. This is my world. Blood, loyalty, and violence when it’s required. If you can’t handle that…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but the unease that crossed his face told me all I needed to know.
I looked up at him—at the man who touched me with such careful reverence in the dark but broke noses without raising his voice in the light.
Feeling a sudden need to placate him, I smiled at him. His jaw clenched and then unclenched.
Even if I could run, I wasn’t sure I would want to.
**********
That night, we made love again.
Slower this time. Like we had all the time in the world, even though we both knew that was a lie. Alexei undressed me with the patience of a man unwrapping something precious, his hands mapping every inch of skin with a thoroughness that made me shiver.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against my collarbone.
I told myself it was just a way to survive. That this—the heat between us, the way our bodies fit together like they were designed for this—was just a coping mechanism for the impossible situation I’d found myself in. That I was using him as much as he might be using me, and that was fine.
