Page 55 of Carved in Ruin

Before I can even process what’s happening, his warm, huge hands grab my feet, lifting them onto his lap. My breath catches.

“What are you—”

But he doesn’t answer, just starts rubbing, his thumbs pressing into the tender spots. My muscles melt under his touch despite my brain screaming at me to pull away.

I stare at him, flabbergasted. Didn’t he marry me for revenge? To make me miserable? What the hell is he even doing right now?

I don’t want to ruin the moment by questioning it, by bringing up the ugly truth of our arrangement. So I clear my throat instead, shifting my attention back to the TV. His hands work methodically, kneading away the ache.

“Why do you call meKroshka?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.

He pauses, his hands stilling on my foot for just a beat too long. Then he smirks, resuming his movements like the question hasn’t thrown him off. “It means ‘little one.’”

“I know what it means. I’m asking why.”

“It’s because you’re small but stubborn, it’s just a nickname. Don’t read too much into it.” Rafael murmurs.

“Irina certainly thinks so.”

“Irina means absolutely nothing,” he growls. “Everything she said is because of her jealousy. Don’t let her—”

My phone vibrates on the table, cutting him off. I glance at the screen, excitement flooding me as I see it’s Elliot.

Rafael’s jaw tightens, but I ignore him as I adjust my oversized, off-the-shoulder T-shirt and set the ice cream down on the coffee table.

“Elliot!” I answer with glee.

“Mila,” comes his warm voice. “How have you been?”

“Good, good,” I reply quickly, trying to keep my tone casual despite Rafael’s oppressive stare burning into me. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Elliot replies. “Listen, I already put in a word for you regarding the scholarship. All I need is a bit more information from you to finalize everything.”

“Really? That’s amazing! Just text me what you need, and I’ll send it over.”

As I listen, I suddenly feel warm, firm lips pressing against the sensitive curve of my neck. My breath catches, and a shudder runs through me.

“Stop,” I hiss under my breath, trying to twist away from Rafael’s relentless attention. He doesn’t stop.

“Sorry, Elliot,” I say hurriedly, trying to refocus. “What were you saying?”

Before I can hear his reply, Rafael’s hand darts out, snatching the phone from my grasp.

“Rafael!” I snap, but it’s too late.

“Yeah, Elliot,” he growls into the phone, his voice low and dangerous. “Sorry, my wife is busy.”

Without waiting for a response, he ends the call, tossing the phone onto the couch beside me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him?”

I keep my face neutral, refusing to rise to the bait. “You told me not to work for him,” I say evenly, meeting his glare. “Which I won’t. Other than that, it’s none of your business.”

His eyes narrow, and his lips curl into a sneer. “He wants in your pants.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head as I cross my arms. “I already told you, Rafael, I won’t do anything that disrespects you. But only as long as you show me the same courtesy.”

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