Page 19 of Till Death Saves Me

Instead, I got something that drives me wild.

And I shouldn't fucking like it.

When I don't answer, she lets out an aggravated huffs. and storms out, tears of frustration glistening in her eyes. I'm left behind standing in my study, a maelstrom of emotions churning inside me. Her words echo in my head, each one a sharp jab to my carefully constructed walls.

I run a hand over my face, exhaling slowly. Fuck. This isn't how it was supposed to go. I didn't expect to feel... anything for her. She was supposed to be a political pawn, nothing more. But the fire in her eyes, the passion in her voice - it's stirred something in me I thought long dead.

I sink into my chair, my gaze falling on the vase of flowers she'd placed on my desk. Such a small thing, really. But it represents so much more. Her attempt to make this cold house a home, to carve out a place for herself in my world.

Anya's words from earlier come back to me, hitting differently now.

Ginny's lonely, Ivan.

You know, if you were actually around, maybe this marriage wouldn’t have to be just an obligation.

I scoff, but the sound lacks conviction. Is she right? Have I been so caught up in my own resentment that I've failed to see what's right in front of me?

I think back to our wedding day, how small and vulnerable she looked walking down the aisle. How she flinched at my cold tone during our vows. How she tried to fucking leave during the reception. Christ, what kind of man am I?

This doesn't have to be like this. The thought comes unbidden, a whisper of possibility I've been stubbornly ignoring. We're stuck in this marriage, yes, but who says it has to be a prison for either of us?

If Lev can fucking turn his marriage around then why can't I? Even Nikolai has been about to create a friendly type of relationship with his wife.

I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes. The image of Virginia in those tiny shorts flashes through my mind, and I feel a surge of heat that has nothing to do with anger. She's beautiful, smart, and far stronger than I gave her credit for.

It's part of the reason I refuse to call her by that ridiculous nickname. Ginny is a clueless little girl. But Virginia… She is my sexy and fiery wife. And maybe...

No. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the dangerous thoughts. I can't afford to get attached. In my world, attachments are weaknesses, and weaknesses get you killed.

But as I sit here, surrounded by the small changes she's made to my sanctuary, I can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there's another way. A way that doesn't leave us both miserable and alone.

10

GINNY

Ishuffle into the kitchen, still groggy from a restless night. My breath catches when I spot Ivan leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand. What's he doing here? He's usually gone before I wake up.

Averting my gaze, I make a beeline for the fridge. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll disappear. No such luck.

"Go get dressed," he barks, his voice rough. But there isn't an edge to it, almost like he's trying to be nice about it.

I freeze, hand on the refrigerator door. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Be ready in thirty minutes."

Turning slowly, I meet his steely gaze. "Where are we going?"

"Into the city," he grunts, setting down his mug with a sharp clink. "Thirty minutes, Virginia."

Before I can protest the use of my full name or the sudden plans for the day, he stalks out of the kitchen. I glare at his retreating back, tempted to throw something at him. Instead, I let out a frustrated sigh and trudge back to my room.

What the hell is this about? In the week since our wedding, Ivan's barely acknowledged my existence. Now he wants to play happy couple on a city outing?

I rifle through my closet, muttering curses under my breath. What does one wear for a mystery trip with their infuriating Bratva husband? I settle on a sundress - casual enough for comfort, but dressy enough for whatever I'm getting dragged to.

As I apply a light touch of makeup, my mind races. Am I getting dragged to some kind of Bratva event? Or maybe he's finally decided to get rid of me and make it look like an accident.

I snort at my own paranoia. If Ivan wanted me gone, he wouldn't need to drag me into the city to do it.

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