Page 29 of Till Death Saves Me

The door is ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. I hesitate for a moment before pushing it open. Ivan looks up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face.

"Virginia? Is everything alright?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. Ivan's brow furrows, but he doesn't press. Instead, he gestures to the couch. I sink onto it gratefully, drawing my knees up to my chest.

We sit in silence, the only sound the scratch of Ivan's pen on paper. Gradually, my racing heart begins to slow. I find myself watching him work, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes as he focuses.

When did his presence become so... comforting? I used to dread being alone with him, but now... now I seek him out. The realization should terrify me, but instead, it feels right.

Ivan glances up, catching me staring. His eyes narrow slightly, studying me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. Then, to my surprise, he sets down his pen, the soft click echoing in the quiet room.

"Come here, malyshka," he says, his voice low and gentle, a stark contrast to his usual commanding tone.

Confused but undeniably curious, I uncurl from the couch and approach his desk on unsteady legs. My heart races, unsure of what to expect.

Before I can ask what he wants, Ivan reaches out, his large hand grasping my wrist. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulls me onto his lap, the sudden movement making me gasp.

I stiffen for a moment, shocked by the sudden intimacy. My mind reels, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Why would he do this? We don't touch each other, not really. We've started to find common ground, a type of friendly interaction. My mind races as I try to piece together what's happening.

But then Ivan's strong arms wrap around me, and he tucks my head beneath his chin. The warmth of his body envelops me, solid and reassuring. I can feel the steady beat of his heartagainst my back, a soothing rhythm that begins to calm my frayed nerves.

"Better?" he murmurs, and I love the way that his voice rumbles through my body.

I let out a shaky sigh, feeling the tension drain from my body like water. Slowly, I allow myself to relax against him, melting into his embrace. The scent of sandalwood surrounds me, oddly comforting in its familiarity.

"Yes," I whisper, surprised by how true it is. My voice is barely audible, even in the silence of the room. "Better."

And it is. Maybe I spent too long sheltered, thinking whatever I wanted about the kind of men like Ivan. I never thought I could trust a Bratva man, and maybe I shouldn't. I don't know what he does when he's gone all hours of the night and I know he won't tell me. It should set me on edge…

And instead, I let myself sink into him. I let my husband comfort me.

I'm not sure when I do, but I must finally fall asleep in his arms. I only realize this later when I wake up alone in my own bed.

My body is still warm from the memory of Ivan's embrace, and the disappointment hits me like a punch to the gut. I reach out, half-expecting to find him beside me, but my hand meets only cold sheets.

Sitting up, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to recapture that feeling of safety I had in Ivan's arms. It's not the same. I want him here. I want his touch, his presence, the solid warmth of his body next to mine.

My mind drifts to that moment when I kissed him, just a soft brush of my lips against his. It was barely anything, but God, it lit me up inside like a firework. I've never felt anything like that before, never experienced such a rush from something so simple.

I press my fingers to my lips, remembering. The spark I felt then has only grown, kindling into a flame that threatens to consume me. I want more. I want to know what it would feel like to really kiss Ivan, to lose myself in him completely.

The realization leaves me breathless and confused. This isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm meant to hate Ivan, to resent this arranged marriage and everything it represents. But the lines are blurring, and I'm not sure I want to stop it.

The only thing that is slowing me down is my head screaming at me to think. He is Bratva. I can't trust him. He's spent the last five years showing me the kind of person he is, treating me like I'm not worth his time. And the second he's nice to me, I can't just fall down at his feet.

My emotions are leaving me whiplashed at this point.

But every interaction we have seems to chip away at the walls I've built around my heart. His rare smiles, the gentle way he touches me when he thinks I won't notice, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes – it's all combining to create an image of a man I never expected to exist.

I'm falling for Ivan Kozlov, and I don't know how to stop it.

Worse, I'm not sure I want to.

15

IVAN

Ismell like my wife. Her vanilla scent is the first thing I think of when I wake up, and I briefly wish I had brought her to my bed. But we've been doing well, learning how to make this friendly and not at each other's throats. I didn't want to upset that balance.

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