Page 32 of Trapping His Assassin

Valentina

The door to my temporary bedroom creaked open. I’d asked the other teachers for something to grease the hinges, but all that got me was a beating. Headmaster Mikhail would be disappointed in my behavior. Even though I’d lived here for years, I couldn’t help my little rebellions.

Heavy footsteps clomped across the floor slowly, almost in time with the beat of my heart.

Thump.

I pulled the covers up to my chin.

Thump.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Thump.

I held my breath, hoping I wouldn’t breathe his stench into my nostrils.

“Princessa,” he groaned.

The blanket slid off me. I lay trembling in the center of the bed, not opening my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to witness the horror about to happen.

“Don’t scream,” was all he grunted, as pain erupted between my legs.

With a gasp, I tried to sit straight up, but hit my forehead on something hard. I yelped, and an echoing sound of pain followed mine, causing me to still. Someone was in the room with me. In bed with me.

A light flicked on, and my eyes widened; there was a naked, grinning Roman Petrov in bed with me.

“Morning, wifey.” His gravely broken tone sent shivers down my spine, as he rolled off the bed and stretched.

“W-what-” Before I could utter another word, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

My eyes widened as his lips brushed mine. He nipped and savored my stunned, frozen lips. What the fuck was going on? I bit his lip. He smirked when he licked the blood off and smiled. His gaze was heated as it roamed over my face.

I snapped a finger in front of his eyes. “Tell me what the fuck is going on?” I usually wasn’t an ask questions first, fight later kind of woman, but this semblance of domesticity was traumatizing enough to fry my brain.

“Well, little killer, while you were getting your beauty rest, we landed in the States and got hitched.” His raspy whisper sent heat between my legs.

“What?” I snatched the blanket up and wrapped it around my naked body. I tried to get out of the bed, but I stumbled. Maybe I was hungry.

Roman’s words were strained, and I could see his throat tense with each one. “That would be the drugs,” he said, confirming my suspicions.

It must kill him to speak, but I wasn’t giving him any sympathy.

“Y-you drugged me?” My gaze was hazy. I tried to focus on him, but it was hard.

“If I didn’t drug you, you’d probably kill me before you could get to know me.” Again, he spoke as if we were friends outgetting a coffee. Not like he hadn’t kidnapped me, forced me to marry him, and stranded me in a barbaric country.

“Woah, the United States isn’t that bad, baby.”

I frowned deeper, not realizing I’d said that out loud. “You forced me to marry you, do you really believe that I’ll allow you to live now?”

Roman shrugged. “What do you have against marriage?”

Unsteady from the drugs, my mind was blank and my hands clenched into fists. My hair was a tangled mess, but I didn’t care as I marched towards him. With determination in my steps, I pointed my finger at his chest. “I don’t need to tell you,” I growled through gritted teeth.

He chuckled, a raspy, choking sound, and stared into my eyes intently.

“Then, you’ll be staying here until you do.”

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