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“Holy shit.” With a long, contented sigh, he drops onto the bed next to me.
I stare at the ceiling for a moment before the weight of his arm settles around my shoulders, he pulls me into his side, the sound of his heartbeat as erratic as mine.
For a moment, I allow myself to close my eyes and pretend that we are a normal couple with nothing standing in our way.
Just once, maybe a game of pretend won’t hurt.
Chapter 16 - Sergey
The sunlight streams through the thin blinds covering the window, waking me from one of the best nights of sleep of my life.
I yawn, arch my back, and stretch it while trying not to disturb Anna, who is sleeping next to me.
Her soft snoring fills the room. Her dark hair fans across the pillow and her skin looks like fresh cream compared to the deep burgundy silk sheets around her.
Fuck, she is stunning. In this golden light, she looks like an angel, so ethereal, too fucking perfect for my world. She looks so peaceful as if no trouble has ever touched her life.
Her full lips part with a sigh, inviting me in, even as she sleeps.
I roll onto my side, curling around her. Dark circles cover the hollows under her eyes, and it seems as if she hasn’t slept for a month.
Anna makes a soft noise in her throat and moves closer to me as if even her subconscious realizes that I am no threat to her.
Not anymore.
She is mine now. Mine to touch, mine to possess, mine to protect. Mine!
I run my fingers through the silky strands of her hair and wish it would fall to her waist like it used to. I miss the feeling of her hair wrapped around my fist, but it will grow again.
And she's still the most beautiful woman I've ever been with. Inside and out. She has the purest heart of gold. I've never seen another heart like hers, no matter what part of the world I've visited.
I know she will be a good wife and the best mother there is.
As I lie there studying her, my thoughts wander and images of a possible future with her flash through my mind. Anna would be at home with our child and raise our baby with our traditions, the Bratva way. She would be happy to be home every night and not have to worry about what would happen to her family. It would not be her concern.
I would take care of everything for her. She would want for nothing. She would never have to spend another day wondering how to pay the bills.
Her father was a pathetic excuse for a man. He should have been there to take care of her. If he had been a real man, he would have given himself in her place when I suggested that she could pay his debts. Especially, since he knew he was dying, that bastard.
My fingers drift up and down the curve of her stomach, hoping that the baby will kick.
I am lost in thought and increasingly annoyed at the way this jewel of a woman has been forced to survive.
Do I forgive her and let her flourish in the life she deserves?
Do I punish her for disobeying me?
I only added to the fear in her life. She had sleepless nights because she was afraid that I would hunt her and our baby down. She was terrified of what I would do if I caught her.
I can’t blame her for being afraid of me, she's seen how heartless I can be. But the way she clung to me last night, desperate for my touch, tells me that she feels safe and protected in my arms. It was almost as if she felt relieved. She realized there was no point to keep running from me.
If forgiveness is the way to have her and ensure my child has a mother, then forgiveness it must be.
She may not trust me entirely yet, but that will come with time. Once she sees that I am going to devote my life to caring for our family, she will come around.
When I finally look at her face again, traces glisten on her cheeks and more tears well up in her eyes.
I reach over and wipe her tears. “Is it so terrible to wake up next to me? Why are you crying?”
