Page 25 of Cruel Promise

I don’t respond.

Dimitri smirks and downs the rest of his drink. “I’d love to meet her someday.”

“You’re not going to meet her. She’s mine.”

“Slow down, buddy,” he says with his hands raised in surrender. “I never said I was going to kiss her or anything. I just want to meet my new business partner’s wife. That’s all.”

“This”—I motion between us— “is strictly business. If you want a woman to fuck, go fuck that waitress.”

He grabs the napkin with her number on it. “You’re right. I’m sure she’ll be a fun and easy lay. I look forward to working with you, Nikolai.” He claps me on the back and walks over to the bar, saying something to the waitress that makes her laugh.

I don’t trust Dimitri, but logistics wise, he’s a smart decision.

It better not bite me in the ass. If it does, there will be hell to pay.

AVA

My wedding ring is burning a hole in my finger.

Not literally, but it feels like it.

I haven’t left my bedroom since our wedding night, and that was a couple of days ago. Mrs. Brown has brought me food, and I eat—barely—and she collects the plates and leaves. My room has its own bathroom, so all my basic needs are met. I don’t need to leave. I don’t need to see Nikolai.

I don’t need to accept I’m married. None of this is real. If I just stay in this room, then maybe all of it goes away.

But this ring on my finger won’t let me forget the truth. That I’m married to a man I barely know. He’s dangerous and terrifying.

Yet he didn’t touch me on our wedding night. I was so sure he was going to throw me down on the bed and have his way with me.

But he didn’t.

And now, I don’t understand. He told me he has “a code” about not hurting women. I think his “honor” is bullshit. If he were truly a good man with a code to not hurt women, I wouldn’t be in this position right now. I’d be back at my apartment with my mom.

It wasn’t perfect, but we were truly happy.

I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again.

With a quick inhale of breath, I take off the ring and chuck it across the room. I can hear it clatter to the ground, but I don’t see it. Good riddance.

For the first time since marrying Nikolai, I feel like I can breathe again.

Right on cue, Mrs. Brown comes into the room with dinner. “Here you go, dear.” I eye the food—piccata with mashed potatoes and broccoli.

“I hope you enjoy it,” she says. I ignore the subtle jab. I haven’t been eating a ton, and everyone in this house knows it.

It’s just hard to eat when my stomach is constantly in knots.

She starts to leave without a word when she gasps. “Ow!”

“Mrs. Brown?”

“I stepped on something sharp.” She bends down and picks something up. “Oh, dear, it appears you lost this.” She sets my wedding ring down on the table. “You wouldn’t want to lose this.”

Dread settles in my stomach. Even when I try to throw the ring away, it comes back not even five minutes later.

Mrs. Brown smiles, thinking she’s being helpful, then leaves the room.

There’s only one way to get rid of this ring.

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