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When I next see Jasper—and I know I will—he won’t be coming for me.
He’ll be coming for my family.
44
LAILA
On my way to Arsen’s office, I’m prepared to make Guilia proud.
It’s been two mornings in a row of waking up in bed alone, and now, Arsen is waiting for me in his office. I’ve been called in to see him like I’m just another cog in his Bratva wheel.
I’m going to give him hell.
I throw open his office door hard enough it bangs off the wall. I make it all of two steps inside before the sight of him, alive and breathing andhere, stops me in my tracks.
For the first time, I’m aware of exactly how much I was afraid he wouldn’t come home. Tears burn in my eyes.
“Roza.”
That one little word sends me streaking across his office. I lace my arms around his neck and breathe in the scent of him. “You better have one hell of an explanation for this,” I sniffle.
His hand smooths up and down my spine before he releases me. “There was an… incident.”
I wait for more of an explanation, but it doesn’t come. “And?”
“And,” he says, sitting tall, “I’m handling it.”
The relief is burning away fast, letting through all the muddled emotions of the last thirty-six hours. “You disappeared in the middle of a dinner and didn’t come home for almost two days. No one knew where you were. What were you handling that you couldn’t answer any of my calls?”
“There was no reason to call. I knew you were safe, and I was busy.” He turns back to his desk, and I get it now—why we’re in this room. Why he didn’t find me in bed the second he got home and whisper his apologies against my skin.
This man in front of me isn’t my husband right now; he’s thepakhanof the Adamov Bratva.
And he wants me to fall in line.
His phone vibrates, and he checks it with a sigh. “I have calls to make, so?—”
I snatch his phone out of his hand and toss it into a leather chair in the corner. “No, you don’t. You have me to deal with.”
His mouth tightens. “Laila?—”
“Don’t do that,” I cry out. “Don’t say my name like I’m being unreasonable. Imagine, for a second, that I didn’t come home for two days, Arsen. Imagine that I walked out of a room and just didn’t come back.”
His knuckles turn white on the arms of his chair. “That wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t let it.”
“Then don’t do it to me. Where were you? Even Enzo didn’t know.”
“Enzo.” He stands up and rounds his desk, heading for where I hurled his phone. “Fuck. I need to tell him?—”
“No, you need to talk to me.” I jump in front of him, pinning my hands against his chest?—
—and Arsen winces.
He tries to school his features, but it’s too late. I’m already dragging his shirt up his body, exposing his chest, and?—
“What in the hell happened to you?” I slide his shirt higher, revealing a map of black and purple bruises across his chest and shoulder. He tries to shove my hands away, but one poke to the mottled flesh of his bicep almost brings my mountain of a husband to his knees. “Who did this? How did this happen? You need to get to the hospital!”
He gathers my wrists in one hand and drops his shirt. “I’ve already been. A doctor cleared me this morning. Now, I need to?—”
