Page 28 of Sinful Bride

The way he touches me, so gently and carefully with my sleep shirt and then my panties… I can’t equate this tenderness with the same man who storms off in fury. Who literally kills people for a living. They’re two completely separate entities, and I wish so much that the Pasha helping me into the tub would stay forever.

I know he won’t, though.

I know that this is all for show. For his child’s sake, not for mine.

So I sink into the warm water the same way I wish I could sink and hide away from him. From the way he’s looking at me, all heat and desire mixed with pity.

It’s not like he loves me.

Not anymore.

I curl up in the tub, hugging my knees to my chest. “I’m not… I’m not comfortable being away from Taty this long.”

It’s true. Paired with the fact that my flabby, naked body is being stared at, my anxiety is through the roof.

Pasha pulls out his phone, taps a few buttons, and hands it to me.

It’s a camera feed. Directly into the master bedroom and focused squarely on her bassinet.

“Swipe left.”

I do, and suddenly see that there’s another camera in a different room. Her nursery, I realize, with the crib and rocker and toys she’s too young to play with.

Another swipe, another room. In this one, Makari is bouncing Taty in his arms and feathering kisses to her cheeks.

“There’s audio, too,” Pasha explains. He takes back his phone and tucks it into his pocket. “Would you feel better if I set a monitor up in here?”

“Would you?” I don’t know how I’m gonna take showers with my eyes glued to a screen, but I’ll figure something out. “Do they make them waterproof?”

“They make them however I want them. It’s my tech, my company.” He leans in closer and strokes my cheek with a finger. “And you are my family, plamya. Say the word, and I’ll give you whatever you need to feel safe.”

You. That’s what I need.

But I don’t tell him that. I don’t feel entitled to it.

“Got anything to make me feel pretty again?” I joke bitterly, rolling my eyes. Whatever I need to do to deflect. Ignore the ache in my heart.

But Pasha doesn’t help with that at all. Instead of leaning into my self-deprecating humor, he reaches for the sea sponge, dips it into the water, wrings it out, and starts rubbing it over my back.

“You’re beautiful as you are.” His voice is warm, but firm. Like this is an order I need to listen to without arguing. “Your body is beautiful. Nothing changes that. Nothing ever will.”

I don’t respond. I just sit there and let him wash me.

11

PASHA

Sofi’s jaw is in her lap as I finish explaining how I told Daphne about our wedding.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Mr. Darcy. Your sense of romance is overwhelming.”

I scowl right back at her. “I wasn’t asking for your feedback. Don’t you have anything constructive to contribute? Say, oh, I don’t know… running the Bratva?”

She flashes a toothy grin at me. “I’m keeping your child quiet and happy so you can do something constructive. Like taking a nap.”

Deep down, I’m grateful for the help.

On the surface, I’m irritated with the world in general.

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