Page 40 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

"Of course," he chuckles. "Stay with me until we fall asleep. It's the closest thing to having you here with me."

"Fine," I agree, stifling a yawn. "But only because it's late."

"Goodnight, Anoushka," he whispers, his voice soft and soothing.

"Goodnight, Nikolai," I reply, already feeling the pull of sleep.

As our breathing slows and synchronizes, we find solace in each other's presence, even from miles away. The distance between us fades, and for a few precious hours, we're together, wrapped up in the comforting embrace of each other's voices.

Chapter 17 - Nikolai

As the car pulls into the driveway, my heart races, and I open the car door before the chauffeur arrives at a full stop. Once the car is at a reasonably slow pace—just about coming to a stop—I jump right out, leaving my briefcase, passport, luggage, and everything behind.

“Boss,” my chauffeur calls out after me, but I’m already striding up the steps to the mansion two at a time.

“Send my stuff to my room and take the rest of the day off,” I yell over my shoulder, barely acknowledging my armed guards who call out greetings.

I can’t believe I'm finally home after two weeks in Paris! And the cause for my impatience? Anoushka. The separation has been unbearable; All I could think about was her. I was often wired, unable to sleep, thoughts of her keeping me up all night. At restaurants, when I saw a brunette with a slim figure from the back, I would be tempted to call out, forgetting momentarily it was not her. I checked in with the staff three times a day and made sure she was having her meals and taking care of herself. I found myself calling her constantly, feeling possessive and a bit crazed.

But now, I'm back, and soon she'll be in my arms.

I rush through the house, calling her name, searching for her and her enchanting smile.

"Anoushka!" I shout, almost desperate to see her again. My footsteps echo through the halls as I make my way to every room she could possibly be in.

I had told her I’d be home today, I find myself thinking. Then where the hell is she? She said she’d stay in from work, that we could catch up.

Has she… forgotten?

The disappointment creeps in, slowly building into anxiety. I reach the bedroom, my heart aching with longing. It's quiet, empty. Not a trace of her.

My steps become slower.

Finally, I reach my office and freeze at the sight before me. The door is wide open, and there's Anoushka in my chair, dressed in a low-cut V-neck figure-hugging item, sharing tea with my brother Fedor. Jealousy flares up inside me, and I can't help but snap at him.

"Fedor, what are you doing here?" I demand, my tone harsher than I intended.

“Nikolai!” Anoushka shrieks, pushing her chair aside.

"Ah, Nikolai, welcome home!" Fedor grins, seemingly unfazed by my outburst. "I was just catching up with your lovely wife. We missed her around the office today and I thought to drop by and see what she’s been up to.”

By now, Anoushka stands by my side.

"Anoushka." I breathe her name like a prayer. She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and I feel the tension between us crackle like electricity as she gives me a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Welcome back, Nikolai," she says softly, her voice sending shivers down my spine. “Fedor, Dima, and Sofia have been kind enough to look out for me while you’ve been away.”

I try to shove the memories away, but they're stubborn. Images of Fedor's sordid past with married women surface in my mind. I can't shake off the unease that creeps up my spine. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I struggle to control my possessive instincts. I don't want to let jealousy cloud my judgment, but it's a battle I'm not sure I can win. Rationally, I know Fedor would never, but still…

“Don’t you have work to do?” I tear my eyes away from Anoushka’s and bark out at Fedor.

"Really, Brother," Fedor chuckles, shaking his head. "You truly do become a demon when afflicted with jet lag. What happened? Had to fly first class? Did the private jet break down? Must have been harrowing.”

“Fedor,” I growl at him.

Fedor, with a grin still on his face, looks between Anoushka and me and, to my horror, gives Anoushka a wink. I look down to see her wink back.

What the heck? Since when did they become so pally?

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