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“I’m not leaving.” She dragged her attention to me. “I can’t leave her alone with you. Who’s to say you won’t hurt her when we leave?”
God, were all the women in my life created just to torment me? I didn’t like this one bit. “I’ll hurt her if I want, with or without you here. Be my guest if you want to stay.”
Pushing up from my chair, I started for my room when Mariana grabbed my wrist, her small hand barely enough to round mine. “Believe it or not, Max, I’m glad you survived. I’m not taking her side, I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
I craned my body to face her. “Something I’ll regret?”
“You loved her six years ago. You spent the last four years looking for her only to find out she deceived you. You must be really hurt right now.” She paused and drew in a breath. “Hurt enough that you may want to kill her.”
The storm raging in my heart calmed a tad at the utmost sincerity in Mariana’s voice. My brothers’ wives had always been my biggest weaknesses. They just knew how to melt my anger every single time.
My brothers had been through so much before they met them and fell in love. Vlad had been through hell and back; he was broken and bruised until he met Mariana. How could I not care for her? Because of her, Vlad was genuinely happy again.
I gently freed my wrist from her grip. “Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of monster.”
I walked away, feeling Mariana’s gaze burn through my back with each step. Returning to my room, I got naked and slid under the shower, reveling in the hot water splashing against my skin, taking the smell of gunpowder and stans of blood with it.
After my shower, I put on sweatpants and a simple black shirt and went to the kitchen. Gianna had been asleep for an hour now. If she woke up anytime soon, she would be hungry.
The rattling of spoons and pots called my attention to the kitchen as I went downstairs. My cook, Ms. Popov, was in the kitchen, and the air smelled like chicken curry.
Ms. Popov and the housekeeper only came on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. It was a Tuesday night, and I hadn’t called her over. What was she doing?
She spun around with a smile when she heard me walk into the kitchen. “Mr. Vadim. I’m sorry if I woke you up, I just wanted to make something quickly.”
I sauntered to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I don’t remember calling you over.”
“Ah, yes.” She twisted to the pot on the stove and stirred it briefly. “Mariana told me you had a guest. I wanted to make her something to eat.”
Goddamn, Mariana. She’ll send me to my early grave.
“We have food in the fridge.” If we didn’t, I could prepare some food. I wasn’t much of a good cook, but I could’ve easily made her some pasta or sent Damien to get her dinner. “You didn’t need to go through all of this stress.”
Ms. Popov waved at me. “It is no stress at all,” she said, her accent more Russian than English. “I heard she had too much to drink. She needs something fresh and hot to take.”
I bit back a smile. Too much to drink? Mariana could have come up with a better lie. Shoving one hand in my pocket and clenching the bottle of water with the other, I went up to the guest room, where Gianna was still asleep.
I closed the door behind me and rested my back on the wall, taking in the beauty in front of me. She looked peaceful when she slept, her pink lips pouty and her thick, long lashes casting a shadow under her eyes. I still couldn’t believe she was the woman who tried to kill me. Part of me refused to accept that she was that kind of person.
She stirred in her sleep, yawning. Her eyes fluttered open, and she squinted at the room. Something told me she hadn’t realized where she was yet.
“Awake already?” I stalked towards her, placing the bottle of water on the vanity table across her bed and smiling. “Too bad, I enjoyed watching you sleep.”
Her eyes stilled on me. She pushed herself to a sitting position, flattening a palm on her forehead. “Where am I?”
“Take a guess.”
She thought for a moment before her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. “Did you drug me? You kidnapped me.”
“You have yourself to blame. You shouldn’t have tried to run away,” I said, ignoring the scowl on her face. I picked up the bottle of water and held it to her. “You must be thirsty.”
She hit the bottle from my hand, staggering to her feet and tilting her face to meet mine. There was rage in her eyes. Feline, dangerous anger, just like what I was feeling. “Fuck you, Maxim. Let me go!”
I keeled over to pick up the water and kept it on the table. “I’m afraid I cannot do that, Gianna. You’re mine now.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t let me go,” she yelled, her eyes widening crazily.
I laughed, placing my finger under her chin. Her skin was still as soft and silky as I remembered it, and her vanilla scent infiltrated my senses. It didn’t matter that I hated her now; my body remembered her and wanted to feel the heat of her skin. “You tried once already.”
