Page 20 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

I stood by the fireplace, swirling the whiskey in my glass, letting the silence stretch between us. She hadn't spoken a word since the restaurant, but I could feel her waiting for me to say something.

"You were too perfect tonight," I said finally, my voice cold and measured.

Lily looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't ask any questions," I replied, my gaze locked on hers. "You didn't press. You didn't seem curious."

Her brow furrowed slightly, and I could see her trying to figure out what I was getting at. "I thought you didn't want me to ask questions."

"That's not the point," I said sharply, stepping closer to her. "You're curious, Lily. You've been asking questions around the house, poking your nose where it doesn't belong. But tonight, you were silent. Why?"

She swallowed, her gaze not faltering. "Because I didn't want to overstep. You brought me there to observe, not to interfere."

"Is that what you think?" I asked, my voice colder now. "You think I brought you to the meeting to observe? No. I brought you to see if you'd slip up."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't back down. "Slip up? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you," I said, taking another step toward her, my voice low and demanding. "You've been watching me,asking about my business. You're trying to figure something out, and I want to know why."

Her breath hitched, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. But she quickly masked it, lifting her chin in defiance. "I'm trying to understand. I live here, Nikita. You expect me to be your wife, but you keep me in the dark. What do you want from me?"

I stared at her for a long moment, the fire crackling in the background, filling the silence between us. What did I want from her? Trust? Loyalty? Her body? I wasn't even sure anymore. But the more I watched her, the more I knew that something wasn't right.

"Some things are better left in the dark," I said coldly, turning away from her. I needed another drink. I could feel myself winding up tight inside, the memories of the past creeping closer, and I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or Lily's questions that were pulling them to the surface.

I poured another glass, and the whiskey burned as it slid down my throat. I hadn't meant to talk about it tonight, but with each sip, the words became harder to hold back.

"I've been betrayed before," I said, my voice quieter now, more controlled. I didn't turn to look at her. I didn't want to see the expression on her face. "By people I trusted. People I thought I knew."

There was a pause, and I could feel her watching me, waiting. "Who?" she asked softly.

I took another sip, staring into the fire. "Someone close to me. Someone I trusted with everything. They sold me out to a rival family. Led us into a trap."

The words slipped out, heavier than I intended. I hadn't spoken about this in years, and the weight of it pressed down on me, but I kept my voice steady. "They killed everyone. My closest friends, my allies. Gone."

There was a long silence. I could feel her trying to process what I'd just said, but I wasn't done.

"I don't trust people easily," I said, finally turning to face her. "And I'm not going to start now."

Lily's face softened slightly, her eyes filled with something that looked too much like sympathy. I didn't need her sympathy. But I couldn't stop the words from coming.

"It felt good to say it out loud," I muttered, almost to myself. "But I shouldn't have said anything."

Lily took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. "Nikita…"

"I don't need your pity," I cut her off sharply, setting the glass down with a thud. I could feel the conflict raging inside me—the need to push her away and the urge to keep her close.

What the hell was I doing?

I walked to the window, staring out into the darkness, trying to pull myself together. I shouldn't have told her anything. This was why I kept my distance. This was why I didn't trust people.

But as the silence stretched between us, I realized I'd already said too much.

"Nikita," she repeated, her voice softer, closer now.

I felt her standing behind me, her presence stirring something primal inside me that I couldn't shake. My mind was telling me to pull away, to shut her out before I said or did something I couldn't take back. But my body—my instincts—had other plans. The tension that had been building between us for weeks, the unspoken pull that I had tried to ignore, was becoming impossible to resist.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I turned around, closing the distance between us in a single step. My hands were on her, gripping her arms with a force that made her eyes widen. I pulled her against me, our bodies pressed together as I stared down at her, my gaze hard, demanding.

---