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“Are you sure?” His penetrating gaze studies me, then he grabs my left hand. “What happened?”
He’s referring to the Band-Aid that I wrapped around my ring finger this morning to hide Dimitri’s tattoo. Horror and embarrassment grip me tight.
“Nothing.” I pull my hand out of his. “I should go.”
He snatches it back and tears the bandage away, revealing the tattoo. As he reads the words his features darkens with fury. “You are not the property of Dimitri Kozlov.”
My mouth opens and closes, but no sound emerges. How do I explain this to him? Why does he even care?
“I had no choice. He forced me to marry him, even forged my signature on the marriage license,” I blurt out. “It’s fine, I’ll get a divorce. Eventually. But you have to leave me alone.”
Connor’s gaze is pleading. “That is not fine. Arianna, let me help–”
“What’s going on here?” Maks steps into our alcove, his deadly blue gaze locked onto Connor Bane. “It seems we should have done more than left you unconscious on the side of the road.”
Connor squeezes my hand before he drops it and steps toward Maks. “Go fuck yourself.” He glances back at me, his expression unreadable. Then he’s gone.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Maks ushers me toward the door.
“Where have you been? You weren’t there for lunch.”
Maks looks down, but not before I catch the glint of guilt in his eyes. “Nowhere important.”
The valet pulls the car around and we climb inside. As we drive away, I notice Maks glancing into the rearview mirror and follow his gaze to Leonidas. There, in an upper window, is a man staring at us. I can’t make out his identity, but he watches the car until we exit the gates.
Who is that man?
CHAPTER 17
Arianna
“Net, Papa, net. Pochemu ty brosayesh’ menya?” Dimitri groans in his sleep, waking me, and I turn toward him. “Ne. Pozhaluysta, Papa. Ya budu khoroshym, ya obeshchayu.” He’s muttering in Russian, I can’t understand anything other than papa. Is he dreaming about his father?
“Dimitri?” I reach for his bare shoulder, he’s warm to the touch yet he’s shivering. “Wake up.”
“Net.”
I shake him a little harder. “Wake up, Dimitri.”
“Net!” He grabs me and rolls us until he’s on top, pinning me to the mattress. I can barely breathe beneath his weight. “YA nenavizhu tebya, sukin ty syn! Kak ty mog postupit' tak so mnoy, c nami?! YA, blyat', ub'yu tebya!”
He’s screaming in Russian, and I tremble beneath him. Even though I’m pretty sure his anger isn’t actually directed at me, I’m terrified, having never seen him this upset before. Tears trail down his flushed face, his eyes closed.
“Dimitri, please wake up.” I gasp for breath, my lungs seizing, unable to draw in air.
“You fucking bastard!” His eyes snap open. The moment he realizes where he is, and who I am, his gaze clears. Abruptly, he slides from the bed and stands, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry, kisa.”
I suck in a much needed lungful of air. Sitting up, I pant, trying to fully catch my breath as the fear leaves my body. Adrenaline makes me tremble, and Dimitri notices.
“Fuck! I’m so sorry.” For a second, it seems like he’s going to sit down and come in close. He takes a step toward the bed, his arm extended. Then he drops his hand and rushes backwards. Turning, he bolts out the door, leaving me all alone in the pre-dawn gloom.
I shake off the remnants of terror, briefly hesitating before I pull on a robe and go after Dimitri. I’m not sure why I’m driven to do such a thing. It must boil down to this overwhelming need to make sure he’s okay. It’s human instinct. I know I won’t sleep a wink if I keep wondering about him.
It takes a while to find him in this massive house, with its winding corridors and endless rooms. What finally tips me off is the noise. I follow the sound of grunts into a part of the house I swear I’ve never seen before, and find Dimitri, opposite a tired looking Maks, as they spar with each other. The room appears to be a gym, with a boxing ring in the middle.
I hesitate in the doorway. He’s obviously fine, and now I feel like I’m intruding.
Maks murmurs something to Dimitri, who glances over his shoulder at me. His gaze is tinged with guilt and embarrassment. He quickly looks away, and I know I’ve been dismissed.
