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We had to use part of the back seat to fit all my new purchases. Once we weren’t weighed down by bags anymore, we made our way to a cute little restaurant outside the mall.
As they’d done ever since the first moment I’d met them, they put me at ease, the conversation easy, the mood light. But I barely touched my food, my stomach in knots. I wished I was stronger. Braver. And, most of all, able to stand up to Aleksándr.
My whole life I’d lived in constant fear. And I didn’t know how much more I could take.
7
GABRIEL
The car stoppedin front of the big iron gate, and Jude typed the code into the keypad. I hadn’t been home in a week, but no matter how much I wanted to make it more, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I straightened my suit lapels, then buttoned my jacket.
Jude pulled up to the front of the house, and I grimaced at the ugly monstrosity. I hadn’t thought much about what kind of house I wanted when I bought it, but I now realized I wouldn’t have chosen it if I’d actually thought about it.
It was ostentatious, had no personality, and it looked more like something you’d find in the English countryside than the middle of Chicago. My apartment in the city suited me much better. Buying a house for my wife had seemed like the perfect solution. Out of sight, out of mind.
If only it were that easy. Because while she was certainly out of sight, she wasn’t out of mind in the slightest. Her soft hazel eyes and delicate features flashed through my mind at all times. I’d had trouble concentrating on meetings. I’d been feeling off-center all week. I hadn’t even glanced at other women.
Jude turned in his seat to face me. “Don’t be a dick to her for once. Mom’s been blowing up my phone all week about your grumpy ass.”
“I’m not grumpy,” I groused, then stomped out of the car.
He followed, humming a song under his breath.
I stopped in front of the door, glaring at my brother. “Are you fucking humming the damn song they played at the wedding?”
“It’s called ‘Pachelbel’s Canon.’”
“Well, I don’t like it. So cut it out.”
Shoving through the door, he bumped into me on the way past. “Whatever you say, oh lord and master.”
“Jude,” I ground out, following him. “Don’t push me. I’m still stronger than you.”
“In your dreams.”
Then the idiot sprinted to the kitchen when I reached for him. With my fists clenched, face like thunder, I stumbled in after him.
Jude was leaning against the counter, smiling at Vanna, who was kneading dough. Flour covered her hair, face, and clothes, and she laughed at something my idiot brother said.
One of my security guards, Rick, was sitting on a kitchen stool, eating fucking cookies.
Fury overtook all common sense, and I did what I usually did—I lashed out. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Rick flinched and dropped his half-eaten cookie. “Van—I mean Mrs. Olysses—tried a new cookie recipe, and she asked if I wanted to—” He stopped talking when he no doubt saw the thunderous expression on my face. “I’ll just be getting back outside.”
He rushed out, tripping over his feet.
Once he was gone, my wrath snapped to my brother and wife. “The security team is supposed to stay on their posts, guarding the house. Not sitting in my kitchen, entertaining my wife.”
I didn’t care to think why I was so angry that the guard had been inside. He was allowed to take breaks. And since his job was to guard Vanna, he was still doing his job while inside. After all, the closer he was to her, the safer he could keep her.
“Calm your tits.” Jude’s comment only fanned the flame burning bright within me.
“I didn’t ask you for your opinion.”
Jude rolled his eyes and snagged a cookie, winking at Vanna.
My control snapped completely. “The security team is here for your safety, not your pleasure. You’re my wife. Act like it.”
