Page 28 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

After a moment, she dropped her hand and took a step back, her smile faltering just slightly. "I'll be in the study if you need me," she said quietly.

I watched her walk away, my fists clenched at my sides, the rage bubbling beneath my skin. She had no idea that her world was about to come crashing down. She had no idea that I knew who she really was. I was going to watch her, observe every move, every word, every fucking breath she took. I would be there when she slipped. I would catch her in her lies, and when I did, she would pay for what she had done.

For the next few days, the tension between us grew even thicker. Every moment we spent in the same room felt like a battle, the air charged with unspoken truths. She still played the role of the perfect wife, her smiles warm, her touches gentle. But I could see it now. I could see the cracks. The way her eyes flickered with doubt when she thought I wasn't looking. The way her fingers trembled slightly when she reached for her wineglass.

I studied her closely, watching for any sign that she would slip. But she didn't. She was careful. Too careful. It made my blood boil even more. The way she played this game, so fucking flawlessly. But I could feel the tension in her, the way she was starting to sense that something had changed. She wasn't sure why, but she knew. I could see it in the way her eyes lingered on me, the way she seemed more cautious around me now.

One evening, we sat across from each other at dinner, the silence between us deafening. I could feel her watching me, her gaze flicking up from her plate every few seconds, as if searching for some hint of what I was thinking. I kept my expression neutral, my jaw tight as I chewed, forcing myself not to let the rage spill out.

"Nikita?" she said softly, her voice tentative.

I looked up, meeting her gaze. "What?"

Her brow furrowed slightly, her lips pressing together in a thin line. "You've been... distant lately. I can feel it. I'm worried about you."

Worried. The word made my skin crawl. The woman who had been lying to me from the moment we met was worried about me. The irony of it was almost laughable, but the fury was too strong, too overwhelming. I forced myself to stay calm, to keep the anger in check.

"I'm handling it," I said, my voice cold.

Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, her hand reaching out across the table, fingers brushing lightly against mine. "You don't have to handle everything on your own," she said quietly. "You can talk to me."

"I said I'm handling it," I repeated, pulling my hand away from hers.

Her expression faltered, the uncertainty growing. "If this is about work... I mean, I know how much pressure you're under, but?—"

"It's not about work," I snapped.

I saw her flinch, her hand retreating, and I immediately regretted letting my temper slip. But I couldn't take it back now. The tension between us was suffocating, and I could see the fear in her eyes growing stronger.

"I'm just... trying to help," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Help. She thought she was helping. She had no idea how much she was making things worse. I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly, forcing myself to calm down.

"I don't need your help," I said, my voice lower now but still cold. "What I need is honesty."

Her eyes widened, and I saw the panic flash across her face, but she quickly masked it. "Honesty? What do you mean?"

I leaned forward, my gaze hard, searching her face for any sign that she was about to break. "If there's something you're hiding, Lily, now's the time to tell me."

She stared at me, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the table. "Nikita, I'm not hiding anything. I don't know what you're talking about."

The lie came so easily to her lips, and it only made the fury inside me burn hotter. But I didn't push.

"All right," I said after a long pause, my voice flat. "I'll take your word for it."

She nodded, but I could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the fear growing stronger. She knew something was wrong, but she didn't know how close I was to tearing everything apart.

Later that night, I couldn't sleep. The anger inside me was too strong, too consuming. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with everything I had uncovered. Ever since I confronted her in the study, she had been sleeping in my bed. I could feel her beside me, her breathing soft and steady, as if she wasn't lying next to the man who had killed her husband. As if she wasn't hiding the one truth that could destroy us both.

I wanted to wake her up, to confront her, to make her admit everything. But I needed more. I needed to know why she had stayed. What her plan was. Whether this was all about revenge or something else. I needed to understand her intentions before I made my move.

And when I did... she wouldn't see it coming.

CHAPTER 10

Lily

Every moment in Nikita's mansion felt like I was suffocating under the weight of my own lies. Each breath was labored, each glance in his direction filled with guilt. The plan had been clear for years—avenge Alexei, make Nikita pay for what he did. I had told myself from the start that I was strong enough to follow through. That I could play the part of his wife, get close enough, and then walk away, leaving behind the wreckage of his life.

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