Page 64 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

Well, two can play that game. I march over to the wall and turn the big light on.

He sits up and smirks. “What are you doing?”

“I was getting undressed. You rudely turned the light off on me.”

“So, then, get undressed.” He remains seated, eyeing me over.

“I can’t get undressed with you looking at me like that.”

“Why not? We’re married now. I should see you naked at some point, shouldn’t I?”

My hands hang awkwardly at my side. I don’t usually feel awkward, but Aleksander makes me, which only makes me hate him more.

“Unless you really do need my help,” he continues. “If so, I’d gladly offer it. But only if you stop punishing yourself.”

“I’m not punishing myself.”

“Then why do you always have such a hard exterior?”

I scoff—my rib groans in pain. “Do you not know my nickname? Ice Queen? I’ve always been this way.”

“No. I don’t think you have.”

I inhale sharply. How does Aleksander know to say the one thing that rocks me to my core? “Just help me with my dress.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, which only makes his pecs look more defined. “Only if you’ll promise never to throw up again.”

Can I promise that? It’s the only release I’ve had these past few weeks. Losing that will mean giving up my dream to dance again.

“I can get my own dress,” I mutter, reaching my arms behind me.

But, of course, a sharp pain radiates through me, and I buckle over, trying to take in a deep breath but unable to.

Aleksander gets out of bed and rushes to my side. “Viktoriya?”

“I’m fine,” I groan, forcing myself to stand back up. “I don’t need your help.”

“Oh, now, you don’t? Then why did you ask before?”

“Can you not be an asshole about this? I’m in pain, you know.”

“I know,” he says in a softer tone. The way he looks at me makes me want to cry all over again. No one has ever looked at me like that before—like they truly care about me.

But that’s fucking nonsense. Aleksander doesn’t care about me. He only wants to make me break for him and gets a kick out of how challenging I can be.

He’ll hurt me just like Gleb did. I know it. No man can be trusted.

“I can do this.” I reach behind me to unzip my dress, and once again, I’m brought down by the intense pain in my side.

“Let me do it,” Aleksander says, helping me stand straight. “If I don’t, we’ll be here all night, and you’ll be stuck in your dress forever.” He places his hands on my zipper, so close to my neck. Goosebumps rise on my skin. He unzips the dress and helps pull my sleeves down. The dress falls at my feet.

I’m suddenly fully aware of how naked I am. Well, not naked. I’m wearing underwear and a bra. But I’ve never been this exposed to a man before.

I force myself to face him because I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he has any effect on me. Aleksander rakes his eyes up and down my body. I know I look good. That’s not a surprise.

What is a surprise is that I don’t mind him looking.

He smirks again and, without a word, heads back to bed. My jaw drops. Not even a compliment?

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