Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Chapter 20
Alina
I’m killing the first-level boss for the third time when distant voices enter my consciousness. The boss dissolves in front of me as if I’ve executed the most advanced maneuver—which I haven’t—and I growl in frustration, eyes popping open.
Oh.
I’m on the couch.
That was a dream, not a bug in my code.
The voices that woke me are still there, speaking quietly somewhere nearby. The kitchen, most likely. As I rub the remnants of sleep out of my eyes, I recognize the deep timbre of Alexei but not that of the other man.
We have company.
Crap. Did Alexei have a chance to clean up in the kitchen? It was a mess when we left it, shards of dishes all over the floor and everything. If the guest saw it, he must know what went down… unless he’s decided that Alexei and I had a knock-down, drag-out fight.
I’d almost rather he think that.
Face burning, I rise from the couch, only to wince again at the pulling soreness inside. It’s worse than this morning, which makes sense given that we had sex again. On the kitchen table.
After I admitted that I want to stay.
I swallow and glance down at myself, not ready to deal with the implications of that. Instead, I focus on my clothes—which are not the least bit company appropriate.
I’m dressed in a pair of fuzzy gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that I found among the new clothes Alexei got for me. I chose them both because my skin felt dry after my second shower of the day, and because I associate video games with comfort. As a young teen, I practically lived in sweats, much to my mom’s consternation.
But that was back then. Now I’m a grown woman and Alexei’s wife, and I should look presentable at all times.
I creep toward the bedroom as quietly as I can, but they must hear me anyway. The voices fall silent. A second later, footsteps sound in the hallway, and Alexei enters the living room, followed by a tall, steely-eyed man I recognize as his head of security—Chekhov, I believe.
Oops. Too late.
Sheepishly, I meet Alexei’s gaze—and forget all about my appearance.
I’ve never seen his face so dark, his eyes so… hellishly bleak.
My stomach plummets.
Did something happen? Did someone die?
Instinct propels me across the room, toward Alexei, but before I can ask him anything, he turns to Chekhov and says curtly, “You know what to do for now. We’ll figure out the rest tonight.”
The man nods and disappears down the hallway. A moment later, I hear the elevator doors slide shut.
He’s gone. We’re alone.
“How are you feeling?” Alexei asks before I can question him. His voice softens, his gaze losing some of the bleakness as it travels over me. “Did you get some rest?”
I wave that away with an impatient hand. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
He stills, an expressionless mask falling over his features. “Such as?” His tone is exaggeratedly bland.
I narrow my eyes. “You tell me.” A thought occurs to me, and I gasp out loud. “Is it my brothers? Did they do something?”
He sighs, his expression softening again. “No, Alinyonok. It’s nothing like that. It’s… family stuff.”
His family, he means. Which I’m apparently not considered a part of.
The hurt that spears me is as sharp as it is illogical. It shouldn’t matter if he doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me about Leonov family matters. We’ve only just moved past being enemies to… whatever we are now. Until today, I couldn’t even admit that I want to be with him, so why should I be surprised that he’s not ready to tell me every deep, dark secret?
Then again, maybe he’ll never tell me. Maybe that’s not the kind of relationship he’s envisioning for us. As he’s demonstrated over the past few weeks, he definitely wants me and cares about me, but he might see me more as a pretty pet to cuddle than a life partner to share problems with.
I swallow the bitterness coating my tongue at the thought. “Okay. I understand.”
I’m about to turn away when he speaks. “You don’t. And I don’t want you to.” His voice is hard.
I nod, trying to ignore the irrational pang of hurt. “Because you don’t know me that well yet. Or trust me. I get it.”
“Because you don’t need even more reasons to hate me or my family,” he says harshly, and before I can react to that bombshell, he leans down and places a tender kiss on my forehead, then steps back. “I’m going to take a walk to clear my head, okay? I’ll see you in a—”
“Wait!” I grab his arm. “Take me with you.”
He frowns. “Alinynok, you’re not—”
“I’m well enough, I promise. And I’ve been so, so cooped up.” It’s not a lie. After the nap, I feel sufficiently energetic, and I have been stuck indoors since… well, since I met Birgit and she took me in. “Please, Alexei, I’d kill for a walk.”