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I don’t turn to watch her stomp out of my office in annoyance. She makes her departure effective by slamming the door.
What the fuck am I going to do about her?
I glare at the wreckage of my office and realize I have more important things to deal with right now.
This is no time to lose my focus.
My rebellious little wife will come crawling before long. And when she does, I’ll make her pay for every second of frustration.
Meanwhile, I have to get to the bottom of the shit that’s unraveling in my world.
I reach for my phone and start to dial numbers.
CHAPTER TEN
Aurora
I rush to the window when I hear the sound of a car entering the estate.
I don’t know why I’m such a mess. I shouldn’t be worried about him, but I can’t help it. Lev hasn’t been home in three days.
Home?
Really, Aurora?
When did I start thinking of this prison as home?
I can’t think about that now. I’m too distracted by worry and confusion. I’ve stayed up late, night after night, waiting for him to return. I’m almost losing my mind thinking about him. As much as he infuriates me, I can’t help longing for him.
I think of the pills he took, and I wonder why I didn’t tell him I just use them to regulate my menstrual cycle. My body throbs as I think of Lev taking me in the sweetest way possible.
Or even not sweet. Somehow, that thought makes me throb even more.
Fear surges again when I recall how I overheard some of the men talking about a war.
Is he in danger now?
Has something happened to him?
Dammit, why should that bother me?
I decide to step out of my room, hoping that I can at least find out what’s going on from the men. As much as I hate Lev, I don’t want him to come to harm.
Hate him, Aurora?
Is that what this is?
The hallway is empty, and I contemplate returning to my room. As the eerie silence of the house starts to get to me, the sanctuary of my own space grows even more appealing.
I start retracing my steps but stop short when I see Lev about to enter his room. A rush of relief floods me, leaving me breathless as my traitorous heart skips a beat.
As if feeling my presence, he glances in my direction. I swallow as his eyes meet mine, then look away. And then there’s an irrational flare of anger. I’ve been worried sick these past few days, and now he doesn’t even greet me?
I walk toward him with determined strides until I stop in front of his door beside him. I become even more infuriated when he doesn’t acknowledge me.
“It’s good to see you too,” I say, trying to sound unaffected but only succeeding in coming across as sullen.
I frown when he doesn’t answer me and enters his room. I hesitate, torn between wanting to confront him and wanting to stalk off and sulk.
