Page 16 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. "I understand."

But the truth was, I didn't understand. Not fully. This world was so far from the life I had known before Alexei's death, and every day, I felt like I was losing a piece of myself to it.

Later that afternoon, while I was wandering the mansion, I overheard a conversation I wasn't meant to hear. I had walked past Nikita's office and heard the low murmur of voices inside—his and Mikhail's, if I wasn't mistaken. The door was cracked open just enough for me to hear their words.

"... the shipment will arrive next week," Nikita was saying, his voice calm but with an edge of something colder. "Everythinghas to go smoothly. If we pull this off, we'll have control over the arms trade in half the city."

Mikhail responded, his voice quieter but equally intense. "And if it doesn't go smoothly?"

Nikita let out a low, dangerous laugh. "Then we make sure it does."

I pressed myself against the wall, my heart racing. I had known, of course, that Nikita was involved in dangerous things. He was the head of the Bratva, after all. But hearing him talk so casually about arms deals, about power and control... it made my stomach twist. This wasn't just about money or influence. This was about life and death. And I was in the middle of it.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the hall. I quickly moved away from the door, trying to look like I hadn't just been eavesdropping. As I walked down the hallway, my mind raced with what I had overheard. Was this what Alexei had been involved in? Had he been caught up in this deadly world without me even knowing it?

Later that evening, when Nikita found me in the sitting room, I could tell something had shifted between us. He was watching me more closely now, his eyes dark and guarded.

"Finding your way around the place alright?" he asked casually enough, but I could sense danger.

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Just... getting used to things."

He studied me for a moment longer, then walked over to stand by the window. "You should be careful where you wander, Lily," he said, his tone laced with warning. "There are parts of this house, parts of my life, that aren't meant for you."

A chill ran down my spine at his words. There it was again—that possessiveness, that need to control every aspect of my life. It wasn't just about keeping me safe. It was about keeping me in my place. And I hated it.

"I'm not a prisoner here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I can go where I want."

Nikita turned to face me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're my wife," he said quietly. "And that means your safety is my responsibility. I can't have you wandering around where you might get hurt."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect. Instead of feeling protected, I felt suffocated.

I tried to process what Nikita had said. His words echoed in my mind:your safety is my responsibility. I could feel his leash tightening around me, invisible and taut, pulling me closer to him while cutting off the freedom I had once taken for granted.

And suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

What would become of my mission if I couldn't go where I pleased? What if I couldn't gather information? Then I'd have to face the reality of being his possession, of failing to avenge Alexei. It was one thing to agree not to leave—and forget about retrieving the poison for now—but halting the mission altogether?

Absolutely not.

In a near panic, I strode toward him, my eyes blazing with emotion. His eyebrows raised slightly, and a flicker of surprise lit up his dark eyes.

"Get hurt?" I repeated, spitting the words out incredulously. "This is supposed to be your fortress. If I'm not safe inside or outside of these walls, then what do you plan to do? Collar me and lead me around on a leash?"

Nikita stepped forward, looking down on me like he was noticing me for the first time. His eyes raked up and down my body, and a flash of a memory entered my mind. The last time we were in this room together, he had grabbed me and pulled me to his body. He had dared me to leave, but I didn't.

As thoughts of him filled my head, my body began to react, growing hot beneath my dress. I was anticipating him grabbing me again, forcing our bodies close. I felt myself falter under his gaze, but I set my jaw and tried to hold onto my anger.

"Is that what I have to do?" he asked quietly. "Treat you like a bitch so you accept your place?"

I drew in a breath, my eyes widening, but he continued, speaking a little louder to cover up any words I might utter.

"Maybe I should let you learn for yourself why you should listen to me without question. How about I call Petrov over here myself? Sounds like you need a taste of what a man like that would do to a woman like you."

Nikita's hand shot out to grip my throat, and smoothly, he tilted my chin up with his thumb, turning my expression of defiance into a spectacle. In one gesture, he was telling me that my indignation meant nothing to a powerful man like him. In fact, it was amusing—I could see the hint of laughter dancing in his eyes.

"I know what Petrov would do to you." Nikita's fingers squeezed my throat, not quite blocking the channel of air I tried to hold onto, but making me feel the pressure, the threat. "He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off a body like yours."

As if to demonstrate his point, Nikita put his free hand to my lower back, smoothing it down to my ass. I couldn't help gasping, a small protest that he ignored. My mind hooked onto the feel of him as he swept over my cheeks, then cupped my ass roughly.

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