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Pavel smirks. “Good. Maybe it will teach you some humility.” Turning to me, Pavel says, “You’ll need to put a lock on her room at night or I guarantee she’ll slit your throat in your sleep.”
I grin at that. “No need. She’ll sleep in my bed. It’s the best way to keep a close eye on her.” It’s also going to be distracting as fuck, but I refuse to dwell on that.
“In your bed?” Roman’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Might as well leave a dagger under her pillow.”
My jaw tightens. "I'm quite sure I can defend myself against a woman."
She’s built for fucking, not fighting. But I won’t be doing either. What Kira doesn’t know yet is that I have no intention of bringing another child into this world. I’ve only let her believe I want an heir to keep her in line.
“Don’t underestimate her, that’s all I’m saying.” Pavel runs a hand through his short hair. “Her father did, and it didn’t end well for him.”
“Please say you’re not comparing me to Oleg Antonov. I’ll take that as a grave insult.”
Pavel raises his hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Just a friendly reminder to sleep with one eye open.”
Standing up, I signal the end of the discussion. I point at Pavel. "You handle the Black Company. I'll handle my wife.”
CHAPTER FIVE
KIRA
“And this is the marital bedroom.”Nadya, Maxim’s personal assistant, flings the door open and charges in ahead of me while I’m still contemplating the term “marital bedroom”.
I better have misheard her because my feelings towards Maxim are anything but domestic. He disappeared after the reception last night, leaving me alone at the hotel where we were married. Frankly, it was a relief that he had no wedding night expectations. I tore off my dress like it contained the plague, ordered fries and a milkshake from room service, sank into the luxurious cloud of a bed, and bingedThe Golden Girls.
This morning, reality came calling. A car came for me, whisking me to the high-end Rublyovka area Maxim calls home. It’s my first time seeing the house or meeting any of his staff. And thisdelight, Nadya Petrovna, appears to run the joint with an iron fist.
Stern, with silver-streaked hair pulled back into a tight bun and hawkish brown eyes, I can sense her territorial instincts flaring. According to her, she's been running Maxim’s homeand life for the last fifteen years as his personal assistant. I've stepped into her territory, and she's clearly not happy about having to deal with a new lady of the house. Especially one young enough to be her daughter.
I turn to her and force a friendly smile. “I think there has been a miscommunication. Maxim and I won’t be sharing a bedroom.”
Her lips tighten. “According to Maxim, you will.”
There’s no way I’m getting cozy with that mudak at night, especially since I bought myself a whole sex-free month. But the other factor is the nightmares I have about my aunt’s death. I don’t have them every night, but when I do, they leave me shaken and sweaty, the images haunting me long after I wake up. It’s not something I want Maxim to witness. Who knows what I’ll reveal in my sleep.
“If you call him,” I say between clenched teeth, “you will find that the arrangement between us has changed.”
Nadya sniffs and raises her chin, fingering the cross around her neck. "Maxim would have informed me. He's not a man who acts on a whim.” She changes the subject, like my objection means nothing. “Your clothes are in the closet, and your personal belongings have been unpacked. I suggest you make yourself at home.”
Home? Please. There's nothing cozy about this place. When Nadya rushed me through the mansion, from the fancy entrance to Maxim's room, I noticed the dark-paneled walls covered with modern art, sleek leather furniture, and a whole lot of glass.
Sure, it looks nice, but the space doesn’t exactly feel inviting.
Nadya's lips press into a thin line, like she's daring me to argue with her. I’d love to tell her off, but she could be a valuable source of information. It might take her time to accept my new role in the house, but hopefully she and I can come to an understanding.
I break our silent face-off with a peace-making smile. “Alright then. I’m sure you know what’s best.”
“I do. And it will benefit you to realize that sooner than later.”Touché! But her shoulders lower an inch at my placating words.
I certainly have no plans of sharing a bed with Maxim, but Nadya doesn’t need to know what happens behind closed doors.
With a victorious sniff, she informs me, “Breakfast will be served in half an hour. Maxim will be expecting you in the dining room.”
"Got it," I say, attempting to sound enthusiastic but falling short.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the witch takes her leave.
Alone in Maxim’s bedroom, I feel a million miles from home. His room is as generic as a hotel. Like the rest of the house, it lacks the personal touches that make a space feel lived-in and warm. Everything is beautiful and expensive, of course, but the only sense of Maxim is his aftershave lingering in the air.
