Page 21 of Till Death Saves Me

"Um..." I blink, caught off guard. "Well, there's this little bookstore I love just a few blocks from here."

Ivan nods, gesturing for me to lead the way. As we walk, I can't help but sneak glances at him. His posture is still rigid, but there's something different about him out here. Less... menacing, maybe?

He's definitely still alert, but it's almost endearing the way he's watching out for me. He keeps me tucked away from the street, that hand hovering over my back, his body half a step behind me like he's shielding me from any threat.

At the bookstore, I lose myself in the stacks, breathing in the comforting scent of old paper. When I emerge with an armful of novels, I find Ivan browsing the Russian literature section.

"Didn't peg you for a bookworm," I comment.

He shrugs. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Virginia." And then he takes all the books from me and buys them without questioning me.

We hit a few more of my favorite spots - a quirky art gallery, a hidden garden tucked between skyscrapers. Ivan's phone buzzes constantly, but he only checks it briefly, typing out messages intermittently, before tucking it away again.

As the afternoon wears on, I notice Ivan... relaxing? It's subtle, but his shoulders lose some of their tension. He even talks. Like actually talks with more than one sentence at a time.

We end up at a tiny café, squeezed into a corner table. I cradle my latte, watching Ivan over the rim of my mug. He's typing on his phone again, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Let me guess," I say, unable to help myself. "Coordinating a hit on the mayor?"

Ivan's head snaps up, eyes narrowing. For a split second, I think I've royally fucked up. But then... his lips twitch. A smile - a real, genuine smile - breaks across his face, transforming his features.

My breath catches in my throat. He looks... handsome. No, more than that. He looks human.

And my heart does this little flutter. It's brief, but it's enough to make a gasp catch in my throat.

"Please," he scoffs, but there's no bite to it. "The mayor's not worth my time. I'm clearly orchestrating the downfall of the entire city."

I laugh, a mix of surprise and relief bubbling up inside me. "Ah, of course. How silly of me."

Ivan's smile lingers, softening the sharp angles of his face. And now my heart does a strange full-on flip in my chest. For a moment, I can almost imagine us as a normal couple, sharing an inside joke over coffee.

But then his phone buzzes again. His eyes dart down to it, and I don't mind. It might even be good because then I can catch my breath.

Still, as Ivan turns his attention back to whatever urgent Bratva business demands his focus, I can't shake the warmth blooming in my chest.

Maybe, just maybe, there's more to my husband than I thought.

Leaving the café, Ivan guides me back to the car waiting for us. As I slide into the passenger seat, I find myself hyper-aware of Ivan's presence behind me. He shuts the door softly, going around to slide into the driver side. The leather seat creaks softly as he settles in, his cologne – a sandalwood scent I'm getting addicted to — filling the enclosed space.

I turn my head, pretending to watch the city blur past the tinted windows. But my eyes keep drifting back to him, stealing quick glances when I think he's not looking. His hand flexes against the wheel, his wedding glint in the sun, and I clench my thighs together.

There is something so rawly masculine about the way he drives. Especially with his sleeves rolled up, showing off his veins and tattoos. That paired with the silver band that screams he belongs to me — one I didn't even know he actually wore — is doing something to me.

Who is this man? The Ivan I thought I knew was all hard edges and cold silences. But today... Today I saw glimpses of someone else. Someone who smiled – actually smiled – over silly jokes about Bratva business. Someone who patiently followed me through my favorite bookstore and art gallery without a single complaint.

My chest feels warm, a strange fluttery sensation I can't quite name. It's unsettling, this softness creeping in where there should be nothing but resentment and fear.

I sneak another look, studying his profile. The strong line of his jaw, the stubble peppering his skin, the ink that complements him in a way I didn't know tattoos could. In the fading afternoon light, he looks... Fuck, he looks too good. It should be illegal to look this good.

Ivan's eyes flick up, catching me staring. I quickly look away, heat rising to my cheeks. Damn it.

"Something on your mind, Virginia?" His voice is low, a hint of amusement coloring his tone.

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "Just... thinking about today. It was... nice."

The corner of his mouth twitches upward. It's not a full smile, not again, but it's something. Something that sets my heart off. "It was."

We lapse into silence again, but it feels different now. Less tense, somehow. I fidget with the handle of my shopping bag, mind racing.

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