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“He’s dead. You got him good, love.”
She smiled feebly. “It had been so long since I used a gun, I thought I’d flopped and missed him.”
I grinned boyishly. I’d not grinned or shown any facial expression at all after I became the leader of the Bratva until I met Adrienne. “You didn’t. You did good.”
She tried to raise herself from the bed but winced in pain. “Fuck.”
I helped her sit up. “Is there something you’d like to eat? Anything and I’ll get it for you.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want food now, I just want you.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, took her hand, and kissed it. “I almost thought I’d lost you for good, Adrienne. I was so afraid of losing you.”
“I was afraid of losing you too.”
I kissed her hand again. “I know, but this won’t do. You have to leave.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What?”
“It’s not safe for you beside me,” I explained. “I can’t go on living if you’re dead. I need you to go to a country where no one can recognize you. Start afresh.”
“Andrei…”
“No,” I cut her off. “Don’t ask to stay, please. I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt again because of me. I won’t let you stay.”
She shook her head. “You’re selfish, you know that. How the hell am I supposed to live somewhere not knowing if you’re alive or in trouble or dead? Do you think I’d live without you? No, I’d die too.”
Her voice was cracking. “Please, Andrei. Let me live beside you like this. Please.” She mopped the corner of her eyes. “Dead or alive, I want to be beside you. I haven’t been able to make many decisions for myself. Don’t take this one away from me or I’ll really kill you.”
I snorted. She really had a smart mouth, didn’t she? She was weak and wounded, begging to stay by my side yet threatening to kill me. I couldn’t turn her down.
“Fine, you can stay.”
She smiled. A full smile that made her eyes glint.
I held her and pulled her in for a hug. It was my turn to protect her, and I would do it for the rest of my life.
Chapter 23 - Adrienne
It’d been exactly five weeks and three days since I became Andrei’s prisoner and wife. I was starting to feel like this was now my home.
For the first time, someone wanted me as much as I wanted him. It may have been only for sex but then we started to like each other. Maybe I had more than a likeness for Andrei, but he probably didn’t feel the same way.
He only liked me, and I didn’t mind anyway, it was my best bet at happiness compared to living with my papa.
Andrei had been out of town for a week now, and I had to admit it, even with Isidor who came around sometimes and Maria to talk with—although I suspected she couldn’t make more than one sentence in a conversation—the house still felt empty without Andrei’s dark aura to spice things up.
And I’d missed fucking him.
Sometimes I forgot he wasn’t there, and I looked around to see him. I missed how his grumpy face usually eased into a smile whenever his gaze locked with mine. I’d slowly gotten addicted to his presence without even realizing it.
I slid out of my bed and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. I’d been getting so fucking hungry recently, perhaps it was the boredom from staying indoors all day.
I smelled pasta as I walked into the kitchen, where Maria was cooking with her usual furrowing of brows. She hated me for what my papa did to her family, alright, but there was no way I’d want to remain on bad terms with someone who made most of my meals. “What are you making?” I asked with a smile.
She glanced at me like I was some kind of unwanted guest and returned her gaze to the pot. “Pasta.”
“It smells good,” I complimented before walking to the fridge to grab a can of soda. “Can we talk?”
