Page 9 of Till Death Saves Me

And yet, the thought of her with someone else...

I clench my fists, forcing the image from my mind. This is ridiculous. I don't care what she does, as long as it doesn't interfere with our agreement.

So why does my chest feel tight? Why does the idea of her in another man's arms make me want to put my fist through a wall?

I spin back to face her, my expression thunderous. "Just follow the rules, Virginia. That's all you need to concern yourself with."

"Ginny," she says, and there's an undertone to her voice.

My head snaps up, seeing the anger there. Does she want to see someone else? Is that her problem? She doesn't want to be shackled to me and only me?

It's not like I fucking asked for this, but I faithful man. I don't see the appeal of the dramatics of the women the other Bratva entertain. I get off, but now…

Now, I've got a wife that no one could compare to.

And no one else is going to fucking touch her.

I grit my teeth. "You're my wife,Virginia. And you'll learn that I won't let you traipse around like your father did. I promised to protect you and I will, so you will listen to me."

I've already had her things brought here, so there's nothing more she needs from me. "The house is yours. Feel free to look around. There's food in the kitchen if you need it and your room is stocked. "

And turn on my heel to leave. I'm done with this conversation, with her presence, with this whole fucking charade.

"Aren't you going to give me a tour?" Her voice cuts through the air, sharp and defiant.

I keep walking, not bothering to turn around. "Figure it out yourself."

"How hospitable of you," she snaps, sarcasm dripping from every word.

I pause, my hand on the doorframe. Her tone grates on my nerves, but there's something else there too. A spark of... interest? I turn slowly, eyeing her.

Virginia stands tall, chin lifted, eyes blazing. Gone is the demure bride from earlier. In her place is a woman who looks ready for battle.

"You want a tour? Fine." I stalk back towards her, closing the distance in three long strides. "Kitchen's that way. Library's down the hall. Your room's upstairs. Happy?"

She doesn't back down, meeting my gaze head-on. "Ecstatic."

We stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. I find myself wondering what it would take to crack that composed exterior. To see what's really hiding behind those defiant eyes.

The thought catches me off guard. I shouldn't care. I don't care.

And yet...

I turn away abruptly, needing distance. "Goodnight, Virginia."

As I stride out of the room, I can feel her eyes boring into my back. The weight of her gaze follows me down the hall, leaving me unsettled and irritated in equal measure.

I have to get out of this fucking house.

I stride into the warehouse,the familiar scent of metal and oil filling my nostrils. Lev's already there, leaning against a stack of crates. That smirk that's been on his face — the one that's really fucking out of place — is gone at least.

"Look who finally decided to show up," he drawls.

I grunt in response, not in the mood for his bullshit. "Let's get this over with."

We start discussing the latest shipment, going over routes and payoffs. But as Lev talks, my mind keeps drifting. I see flashes of dark curls, hear the echo of heels on the floor.

"Ivan? You with me?"

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