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It took him half the time it usually would to drive home. Not caring to turn off the car engine, he opened the door and hurried inside the house. “Zia,” he shouted, first checking the kitchen where he suspected she would be.
Polina was in the kitchen chopping cucumbers when he went in, but Zia wasn’t.
“Have you seen my wife?” he asked.
Polina flinched from how harsh and loud his voice was. He’d never used that tone on her before. “She went upstairs not too long ago. She told me what happened.”
“Right. Thank you.” Sprinting out of the kitchen, he bolted up the stairs and threw the door to the bedroom open. There his wife was, lying on the bed with her back to the door. She didn’t even twist her head or stand up to see him.
His chest tightened, his throat burning with both pity for her and anger for the bastard who had done that to her.
Closing the door behind him, he walked to the bed, whispering her name. “Zia.”
She ignored him.
She wasn’t asleep; he knew that. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her. Lifting her, he turned her over. And what he saw made his eyes prickle. He’d never come so close to crying since his father was murdered, but now, seeing Zia like this brought tears to his eyes.
Her long, thick lashes were wet and matted to her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her eyes so cloudy that his heart twitched.
He opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she was okay, but he couldn’t. She wasn’t okay; he could see that. But he didn’t know how to comfort her or what words to say. He’d been raised to kill, not to empathize. Born to inflict pain and sorrow, not to be a loving husband.
Still, he had to try. He had to comfort her somehow. He reached for her face and swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Sniffling, she shook her head.
“Do you want me to make him pay for this?” He was asking, but regardless of what her answer would be, he planned to make that asshole pay.
“Yes,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want him to pay. I want him never to do this to another woman. I can’t believe I loved him for so long, and I didn’t know what he was capable of.”
“If you want him dead…”
“No. Don’t kill him; just make him pay,” she pleaded, peering into the depth of his soul.
It pained Lev that she was begging for the life of someone so worthless, the life of someone who’d hurt her and tried to violate her.
He brushed a strand of curly-dark hair from her face and peering into her ocean-blue eyes, he promised, “I’ll make him pay, and he’ll apologize for what he’s done. I promise.”
Zia sniffled as her eyes welled with even more tears. “Thank you.”
He cupped the back of her head and rested her on his chest. His fingers combed through her hair as he said, “I’m sorryI wasn’t there to protect you. I should have taken you shopping instead.”
Zia shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t always protect me.”
Lev straightened up. He held her shoulders and pushed her back gently. Placing a finger under her jaw, he tilted her face to his. “I told you when we got married that you were mine. I wasn’t bluffing, Zia. You’re mine to protect now.”
And he would protect her, even if it would cost him his life.
Chapter 13 - Zia
Zia felt Lev’s warmth behind her before her eyes cracked open, and she turned around, bringing their faces dangerously close.
It was early in the morning, and the sun hadn’t come up yet. Lev was sound asleep. He’d been more relaxed around her these days than he was when they first got married.
Two days had passed since her ex-boyfriend attacked her. Lev held her to sleep and never left before she woke up, even when he was mostly always the first to wake up.
She traced the sharp features of his face with her eyes. He was incredibly handsome. Lev was a decade older, but he looked at least five years younger than thirty-three. She’d never seen or been around a man as beautiful as he was, and she still didn’t believe he was her husband.
All hers.
