Page 50 of Claimed By Desire

“Your call.” He hesitates at the door before shaking his head and disappearing inside.

And there goes all my hope with him. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night, the first of many.

Chapter 19

Natalya

Iexplore the apartment and get to know Alex’s habits better than I ever dreamed I would over the next few days.

The machine is an absolute machine.

In the worst way possible.

Five-thirty in the morning, his alarm goes off. He’s out of bed instantly, teeth brushed, face washed, and into his office which doubles as his home gym. I listen to him grunt away, stomping on the floor, throwing around heavy stuff for a while, until he’s in the shower by six-thirty. Then it’s fancy coffee, whole wheat toast, and egg whites for breakfast, before he’s back in his office doing whatever the hell he does in there for a few hours, before he finally leaves to take meetings or break kneecaps or shoot people in the face or whatever.

I try to get more sleep during his morning routine, but it’s impossible. The man couldn’t care less if he’s being too loud, even if I complain. Actually, I think he likes when I complain. All he says is, I’d sleep better in his bed.

I’m pretty sure he’s trying to blackmail me with his bad behavior.

I drift around the house once he’s gone. There’s a small market in a strip mall next to his apartment complex and I end up going there most days to grocery shop. I buy romance paperbacks and magazines at checkout and devour them beside his infinity pool. Sometimes I swim laps, just to give myself something to do.

He makes sure I eat, and he comments when it’s not healthy enough. Pre-natal vitamins appeared on the coffee table one morning, and I’m expected to take them religiously—and he’ll notice if I don’t.

None of this is necessarily bad. He’s trying to make sure I’m healthy and doing all the right things for the baby. I totally get that.

It’s just, he’s overbearing, and has absolutely no patience for mistakes.

“Are you hoarding water?” he asks one morning as he drinks his espresso and glares at me from the kitchen.

I’m lying in my couch nest, half awake and miserable. “What are you talking about?” I grunt at him.

He walks over and nudges a water glass. “This. And this. And this.” He flicks a few more, and it’s only then that I realize there are like eight of them scattered all over the living room, and none of them are empty.

“Would you just leave me alone?”

“Dump it when you’re done, put it in the dishwasher, and get a clean one.” He sits down at my feet, still sipping away at his coffee. I’m extremely tempted to kick it from his hand, but it’druin the couch and I’m the one that would have to sleep on the mess.

“It’s just water, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

“We don’t have maid,printsessa. I know you’re used to housekeeping back with your father, but I don’t pay for cleaners.”

“Are you saying you expect me to scrub the floors for you?” My eyebrows raise as I sit up on an elbow. “Are you kidding right now?”

He glares right back. “Is that what I said?”

“It’s the implication. You think because I’m stuck living with you, I’m just going to be your maid?”

“I think you should put away your little herd of water glasses.”

“Right, I get it, we’re married which means I should obey my husband, right?”

He smirks and leans closer, one hand on my ankle. “It would be a fuckingmiracleif you learned how to be obedient,printsessa.”

I kick out but he holds onto my leg tightly and catches it before I can do any real damage. “You’re right, the day I start following your order is the day I jump off the balcony out there.”

“I’m not asking much. Clean up after yourself. I don’t like clutter.”

“And I don’t like when you stomp around every morning. You know I’m trying to sleep, but you don’t care.”

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