Page 55 of Ruthless Vows

“Get him somewhere he can sober up. And don’t fucking lose him this time,” he orders.

Ruslan nods and steps forward. He practically hauls Alexei out, and once he’s gone, I let out a breath of relief.

“Come on,” Ivan says to me.

His hand encircles mine and he leads me upstairs in the direction of the bedrooms. Instead of mine, he opens a brown oak door instead and I step into his room. It looks exactly like I imagined it would: plain dark walls and black bedding.

There’s a desk in the corner with books strewn across it, the only part of the room that isn’t immaculately put together.

“You like to read,” I say quietly.

“Yes,” he replies, walking toward the door I guess leads into his bathroom.

He returns a second later, holding a first-aid box. I shake my head.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m not really hurt.”

Ivan arches a dark eyebrow in disbelief.

“Alright, fine, I’m hurt. But I’m also perfectly capable of putting on a bandage.”

“Let me,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He guides me to sit on the bed and sits in front of me, grabbing a bandage. I stay completely quiet, my emotions running haywire as he gingerly takes hold of my wrist.

“Do you think it needs ice?” he murmurs, inspecting the bruise.

I shake my head. “It barely even hurts, I swear.”

He makes a low sound I can’t decipher before proceeding to wrap my wrist in a bandage. It’s quiet, too quiet, and everything—the way he’s treating me, his scent, it’s all too much for me. I can barely breathe.

“So what is it with you Volkovs and kidnapping me?” I ask jokingly, trying to ease the tension.

Ivan looks up at me, clearly not amused.Jeez, the man has no sense of humor.

“Is that what you think I did? Kidnap you?”

“Well, I technically didn’t come here of my own free will, did I?”

He stares at me for the longest moment before suddenly getting to his feet. I watch as he starts to ponder something, his face a mask of concentration. Finally, he looks at me.

“What did he say to you?”

No need to ask who he’s talking about.

“He was high. I don’t think he was really aware of what he was saying.”

“But he said something,” Ivan pushes.

“Yeah, he was rambling about how you’re a terrible brother and person, generally. He said he was helping me by getting me away from you. That you’d eventually hurt me. He also said—” I pause, wondering if I should say this, but I already started. “He thinks you killed your mother.”

Ivan’s expression doesn’t change at that, meaning he already knew. “He has ideas of what I’m capable of. In this case, I decided not to correct him to get him in line.”

“That’s cruel, Ivan. You can’t let him go on believing his mother is dead when she isn’t.”

“I plan to. Because it doesn’t matter either way.”

“He thinks because you killed her, that you can kill him, too,” I state.

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