Page 42 of Unbreakable Vow

After leaving Mom to sleep, I have a bowl of cereal for dinner, all right, two bowls, but Mrs. Yugov had Frosted Flakes in the pantry and it’s my weak spot.

After a quick call with Krista to bring her up to date on the craziness that was today, I check the time. Nearly ten.

I make one more trip to check in on Mom, then head up to bed. I only pause a moment in front of the guest room door before deciding not to cause any more trouble.

Considering how we spent last night, any chance that he’d not want me in his bed tonight has flown the coop.

I may not know everything about him, but I’m a quick study. And Sergei Petrov is a man who expects to be obeyed.

The bedroom is empty, so I take a long, hot shower and pull on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt before sinking into bed. I glance at the clock on the night table.

Almost eleven now.

I scroll through my social media mindlessly, not really looking at anything.

When it’s nearly midnight, I climb out of bed. Maybe he’s still working. I’ll just pop in and say good night.

We’re married now. It seems rude to just go to sleep without at least telling him. Especially on our wedding day.

The house is quiet and dark as I make my way downstairs and through the halls to his office. His door is slightly ajar with a slim beam of light peeking out into the hallway. One of his men stands outside the office, leaning against the wall. He stands to his full height when he sees me approaching.

“Is he still in there?” I ask. A moment later a single Russian word booms from within the office. I don’t know what it is, but from the angry way he said it, I know it’s not a good sign.

“It’s late. Do you need something, Mrs. Petrov?” the guard asks.

“No. I’m fine.” I wave him away and step around him, pushing the office door open and letting myself in. “And you can just call me Cora.” The formality leaves a heavy weight in my stomach. Like I’m someone I’m not.

Sergei looks up from his computer, a fierce scowl set, ready to go off on the intruder.

“I’m sorry. I can bring her upstairs,” the guard says from behind me.

Sergei’s eyes find mine and he softens. It’s just a fraction, and I don’t think the guard even notices it. He’s as tense as ever behind me.

“No. It’s fine, Yusef. I’m finishing up. You go,” Sergei orders.

The door shuts quietly behind me.

His eyes haven’t moved from me, and a shiver trails down my spine. I’m still not used to how he looks at me. Beneath this stare, I’m every bit the prey and he the hunter. Except I’m not sure I want to run to get away.

“It’s almost midnight,” I say when the silence stretches too long. “I just came down to say good night.” I swallow around the ball of anxiety that’s collected in my throat. Maybe he’s regretting having chosen me to fix his problem. “And to thank you, again, for bringing Mom here. The guest wing is beautiful. She was still groggy, but she seemed to like it.”

He pushes his chair back from his desk. “Come here, Cora.” He beckons me with a crook of his finger.

“You’re busy…”

“Now, Coraline.” His left eyebrow arches, almost as though he’s daring me to disobey him.

I stand at the side of his desk, but he shakes his head. He points to the spot in front of him, the little area between him and his desk.

Slowly, I edge around the desk and slide into the spot, leaning my ass against the edge.

He picks up the hem of my t-shirt, an oversized shirt I bought from Six Flags when I went a few years ago. Perfect to wear over my bathing suit when I hit the waterpark with Krista that afternoon.

“What is this?” He tugs on the material.

“Pajamas.” My face heats when he brings his attention up to me.

“You could fit two of you in this,” he says.

---