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My ears perk up at this. “Seriously?”Even after my escape attempt? goes unsaid.
“But you must take one of my bodyguards with you as an escort.”
I deflate. Getting away from here is going to be ten times harder with a guard breathing down my neck, though I suppose it’s better than being locked in like a princess in a high tower.
“Anything else?” I ask with a huff. “Let me guess, is the next rule to not cause trouble?”
Pyotr watches my lips with a heated intensity, the notch in his brow almost crescent shaped. Again with the staring. I’m not uncomfortable, per se, just caught off guard. Heat climbs up the back of my neck and pools in my cheeks. The deep brown color of his eyes is honestly disarming.
“You’re not to mention the Bratva,” he says sternly. “Not the Antonovs, not the Salkovs, not any other family. My position in the company means I cannot be openly associated.”
I tilt my head to the side. Interesting. “Fine,” I say eventually. “It’s not like I have anyone to talk to anyway.”
He takes a single step forward, his eyes still glued to my lips. There’s something new in the way he watches me, something that wasn’t there before. It’s dark and heady and electric. I hold my breath as he approaches like a jaguar, strong and ready to pounce.
Pyotr reaches into his pocket and pulls out something silver.
A ring.
“Give me your hand,” he orders.
My heart thuds in my chest. I’m half tempted to run, but there’s nowhere to go. Besides, it’s just a wedding ring. He’s not going to hurt me.
Slowly, I lift my hand, which he promptly takes in his own. His palms are deliciously rough and warm, so large his fingers easily envelop mine. Pyotr slides the ring onto my finger and stares at it for a moment, his jaw clenched, and brows knitted together into a steep frown.
A part of me wants to cry. Why does this feel so cruel? I’m already chained to him—and now I have a physical token to remind me of the fact. At least Pyotr has the base-level decency to look guilty about it.
“You’ll learn to forgive me,” he mutters.
My anger flares, but I manage to swallow the worst of it. “Don’t count on it.”
Whatever trace of warmth I thought I saw melts away from his face. He’s once again made of ice, impossible to decipher.
“Your room is around the corner there,” he says before turning away. Pyotr ascends the stairs and eventually disappears, the sounds of his heavy footsteps fading as the distance between us grows.
My room is just as lovely as the rest of the first floor of the penthouse suite, but it doesn’t really feel likemine. The decor isn’t to my taste—too dark and sophisticated. There’s a four-post bed made of mahogany, the bedsheets a deep maroon with gold embroidery. I’m definitely going to give this place a makeover.It would look great with a splash of color and—
The thought gives me pause.
A makeover?
No. No, I’m not going to be staying long enough to worry about that sort of thing. Pyotr might have caught me once, but I’m no quitter. I’ll figure out how to escape him and this marriage, even if it’s the last thing I do.
All I want is my freedom. I want a life that’smine. My mistakes, my triumphs… Now that I’m far from Mother’s influence, it’s about time I start to do things for myself.
My first escape attempt was made out of desperation. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s learning from my mistakes. I’ll bide my time, wait for the perfect opportunity to escape him for good. I’ll fly under the radar. And just when Pyotr lowers his guard…
I’ll be long gone.
Chapter 6
Pyotr
8:00 a.m.
I’m already up, showered, and dressed for work. When I go downstairs to the kitchen, I’m not at all surprised to find my little brother seated at the kitchen island with a cold glass of water. He’s dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized black hoodie. The dark circles under his eyes would be alarming to most people, but I know Luka always looks like this.
“Did you just get up?” I ask him as I adjust my silver cufflinks.
