AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Then you’re a fool.” He grabs my arm and pulls me against his chest. I feel his heart racing against my cheek. “Because you should be scared.”
“He can’t attack me in public.”
“Why not?” Misha scoffs. “He killed my brother in broad daylight. What makes you think he wouldn’t do the same to you?”
I fall silent as the pain sears through his silver eyes.
“Misha…” I whisper, my hand reaching for his face.
He steps out of my reach, his walls rising high around him. “I’m putting twenty-four-hour security on you. It’s only a matter of time now before he discovers everything we’re hiding.”
“No one even knows—”
“You confirmed our marriage to the entire marketing department a few days ago,” he reminds me. “As I said, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the news spreads.”
The doors ping open and Misha walks out. I follow him because I don’t know what else to do. When we arrive at his office, he turns to Nikolai.
“Nikolai, go and grab Mrs. Orlov’s things from her office. We’re heading home.”
Nikolai nods and hurries off. “Of course, sir.”
“What are you doing?” I balk, following him into his office. “I still have work to do.”
“You’re done for today.”
“Misha—”
“Paige!” he erupts, the desperation in his silver eyes piercing through my indignation. “Give and take, remember? Now is the time for you to take. And to do it silently.”
And I see it now: how much he needs to cloister me away behind his high walls and his fortified security. It may not solve the problem forever, but it’ll help today. It will bring him a moment of peace.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Let’s go home.”
48
MISHA
“What are you doing?” she asks as I pull out a cast iron skillet from the kitchen cabinet.
I grab a large knife from the butcher’s block. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
She eyes me curiously, keeping the kitchen island between us. “It looks like you’re planning on carving Petyr Ivanov up with that knife and searing him in that skillet.”
“Don’t give me ideas.”
She grins for a moment before it fades away. “Seriously, though, what are you doing?”
I crush a head of garlic with my palm and separate out the cloves. “If you can’t connect the dots here, I can’t help you.”
“You… cook?” she asks slowly.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes.” The short response is delivered with no hesitation.
“I find cooking cathartic.”
She watches as I dice the onion and then move on to the garlic, the blade flashing effortlessly and catching the light like it’s alive. “You’ve got some serious knife skills.”
