Page 21 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

I admit I fucked up when I spoke to her the way I did that morning, but it’s a surprise to me that I haven’t punished her for attempting to mess up my life over it.

I’ve killed men for less.

Yet with her, I somehow have more patience that I’ve ever offered anyone else, my brother included. It’s interesting how much of a hold she has over me.

“Well, good morning to you too, husband,” she says cheerfully, grabbing a plate from the center of the table and filling it up with food. “You look constipated.”

She has an insane habit of ignoring my questions, and I have to fix that as soon as possible.

“What,” I ask again, slowly this time, “are you wearing?”

She takes a bite of toast and shrugs casually. “Clothes. Welcome to Earth, alien.”

Before I can reply, the kitchen door creaks open and one of the chefs walks in, carrying a tray loaded with grilled meat.

He’s a young man named Dan, if I remember correctly. He only started working here a month ago.

He takes two steps toward the table before his eyes drift upward…toward Audrey. Then his steps falter and his ears turn bright red before his entire face follows.

I watch him intently, but he doesn’t take his eyes off my wife.

No.

His gaze lingers on her face for a moment, then slowly dips much lower than it should.

A strange heat unfurls inside my chest, raging and hot like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s possessive, and grows even more feral when he swallows.

As if finally noticing the storm raging beside him, he collects himself and quickly tears his eyes away from my wife, nearly fumbling the tray.

Audrey smiles at him politely. “Be careful.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He sets the tray on the table with shaky hands, and Audrey helps him.

“What’s your name?”

“Dan, ma’am.”

“Good morning, Dan,” Audrey says.

The idiot actually smiles back, scratching the back of his head. “Good morning, Mrs. Nazarov.”

“Thanks for the meat. I’ll have some orange juice too, please,” Audrey says politely, maintaining her smile.

“Of course, ma’am.”

Dan disappears into the kitchen.

“Do you think your allies bought the excuse of us being married?” Audrey asks, drawing my attention away from the spot where Dan was standing seconds ago.

“Probably.”

She glances at me, clearly confused. “What does that even mean?”

“I put up appearances where I needed to. What they believe is up to them. What matters is that you’re not responsible for the raid and we’re married.”

She drops her fork and stares at me intently. “Do you trust me that much?”

“I don’t trust you, Audrey. Not even in the slightest bit.”