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Once he’s gone I call Valdez. “He’s leaving my office, make sure he gets back to New York without any detours. Definitely need to keep listening to him and Artem for the next few weeks or until the Feds pick him up.”
“Done. Again, I want to apologize for our failure the other night with Grigori’s man. It was unacceptable. Your expenses for the month have been waived.”
“I appreciate you taking responsibility for the failure.” I end the call before rage overcomes me.
Closing my eyes, that night is back. Seeing Celia with a gun to her head. The things she said. I knew she didn’t mean them, they were a direct negation of everything she said only a week before. I’d watched her eyes float over the desk, felt my heart attempting to beat out of my chest when I realized what she was doing. The men were preparing charges at the hinges on the door in order to blow it off, but they were going too fucking slow.
Then she did it. She was covered in blood. Blood on her hands from stabbing him in the chin. Blood on her face and body from the blowback of the gunshot. My hands shook as I saw her aim with gray eyes trained on her target, then pull the trigger smoothly.
I should have listened to Maxim and sent her away. A week or two away would have cost me, but the price she paid was far higher. Too fucking high. It was bad enough to come home and hear her so despondent when she told Sergei I told her I didn’t love her. All I wanted to do was take her then and there and tell her I lied. She was the only woman I’ve wanted for so fucking long, all the others were a distant memory that paled in comparison.
Only I didn’t dare. We still had the evening to get through. Another encounter with Grigori where it had to appear as if I weren’t marrying her because she had become my every fucking thing in this world—the queen to my king. No, she was a passably pretty pawn in a chess game. For her safety.
So she had no idea how bad it physically hurt as she babbled to herself in the shower. Every word felt like a knife to my chest. She knew Grigori wanted me dead. Her grandmother taught her to shoot. And what should have made it all better, but instead made it worse, was that Celia would do anything for me. She loved me so much she would never allow me to give up myself for her. Pride thundered through me when she called herself Levin, then another knife to my fucking cock. How sad she sounded when she whispered she wanted me forever, as if it were a dream far beyond her reach.
If she weren’t in shock from what she had gone through, I would have admitted everything then. Told her the truth. But there was no guarantee she would remember it the next day, and it wasn’t the right time. In the moment it was all about her.
I resented the call from Nikita, too damn early this morning, telling me Ivan wanted his daughter back and asking permission to kill Ivan. As I dealt with it, contacting Ivan and telling him to meet me at my restaurant, in the back of my mind I was sure today was the day I could end all her fears and insecurities. As soon as I could devote more than ten minutes to Celia—because it was going to end with making love, that was a given.
When I walked into our room, it was supposed to be to grab my gun, close the cupboard then kiss Celia goodbye, careful not to wake her. I’m not sure what I expected when I found her staring into the cupboard, but it sure as hell wasn’t her anger, as if I had betrayed her.
This woman’s arithmetic was shit. She added up two plus two and came up with ninety-eight.
Still with her mistrust, still not believing in me—in us. It didn’t matter I hadn’t said the damn words every time I touched her. Even when I spanked her ass, used her the way I needed her to believe I did, I did it with love. With the only thing I felt for her. How did she not sense that?
And how badly had I fucked up, taking her the way I had before I left? Christ, she pushed me beyond the bounds of my control until I didn’t recognize myself.
My office door opens, Aleksander appears.
“What the hell are you doing here? You should be in bed resting.”
He chuckles as he sits down in front of my desk. “It was either get out of the condo or tear my stiches again.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he grins. “I brought her out for breakfast on a date. I feel good, too good to be at home in bed with her so close.”
I shake my head. “A date, with your wife? Cute.”
“Come on, dates are important, keeps the magic alive. Father told us himself, feed the mind of your woman, the body, then her soul. Dates are all of that rolled into one. Isn’t that what you did with Celia when she was recovering? Lunch and dinner, watching movies, talking about books. Women love that stuff.”
Shit.
“Ah, you haven’t been doing that. Make new magic. Now that you don’t have to hide your love, you can show it to her in other ways.” Aleksander stands. “I need to get back to her.” He pulls a remote and presses a button with a grin.
“What is that?” I’ve never seen it before.
“Remote-controlled vibrator. If I have to suffer, so does she.” A laugh comes out of him. “Feeding the body in a different way.”
Once the door is closed behind him, I sigh. I hadn’t even thought of it. If Aleksander hadn’t said it, I wouldn’t have done it. We were married without me ever taking my wife on a date. The time when she was recovering didn’t count.
How the hell could I have not thought of it? Before I had to worry about Grigori, the plan was for me to take her out. Not dating her, she was already my woman. For her to be seen on my arm, as my woman, as a couple. Except I can see it’s bullshit—she desb]erved to be treated as more than just someone I had dinner with then fucked at night.
I reach for my phone and make a few calls.
Celia
Carina is cryingas the sound of the shower running can be heard behind her. “Mommy took my phone, my computer, everything. I’m not allowed to go to school. I’m at Carlo’s and a prisoner. I can’t believe this, Celia. If it weren’t for the backup phone I had for when I was talking to Steve, I wouldn’t be able to call you. I begged them to at least let me see you,and they’re refusing.”
“I’m sorry, Carina. I don’t know what to do. If you were still at the house, I could help you. But Carlo’s place is like a fortress.” I’m pacing as I talk to Carina, trying like hell to figure out a way to help her.
“This is bullshit. You get a husband who loves you and would do anything for you, and I get a husband who told me if I behave he’ll let me have a computer. Let me have a computer? What in the fuck? This guy is Neanderthal, Cro-Magnon bullshit. He’s in no rush to have kids so he’s allowing me not to get pregnant for a few years. Allowing me?” Carina is crying again.
