Page 33 of Bred To Be Owned

The stillness in the room was a reprieve from the outside activity. My Russian had been correct when he’d said Irini would have never been comfortable here. I didn’t mind it, but after this week full of unknowns, I wanted my Russian to have a bit of peace before the next catastrophe stole his attention.

His stomach grumbled.

I reached behind me for the plate I’d brought in. “Sit up,” I told him, pushing on his shoulder.

“Feed me.” He opened his mouth.

Has he lost his freaking mind?I wanted to reach out and run my fingers across his forehead, smoothing out the creases. It would have to wait for another time. He opened his eyes, staring back at me. He was a made man, a Bratva boss with razor-sharp intuition. Of course, he caught me watching him.

“Feed me, Toula. I am withering away to nothing.”

I smiled and shook my head at him. “It’s your problem if you get heartburn.”

“Nothing four antacids can’t cure.” He smiled at me and opened his mouth.

Still shaking my head, I stabbed one of the dolmades with the fork and brought it up to his lips. “Am I supposed to make airplane noises, too?”

“Kinky.” He took the bite that I was offering him, groaning in appreciation.

“You don’t have to flatter me. My cooking is inferior.” I meant is as a joke, but there was a touch of bitterness underneath. Adrik’s comment about tracking all Russians for restaurants had made me wonder if they were eating my food out of sympathy.

“My brother’s been talking,” he said before taking a second bite. I didn’t respond. “I don’t want to say something to him unless he crosses a line with you. However, I’ve only received compliments from everyone else. Most people didn’t know what to expect, so they’ve given you a wide berth to find your footing. In fact, I was proud you stepped up, and the men were appreciative,” he told me as he opened his mouth for another bite. After he finished, I returned the plate to the table.

I quickly changed the subject, not wanting to squabble over his brother. “Has my father called?” I wasn’t interested in the outcome either way, but I thought it was a safe enough topic.

“Yes.” My Russian shifted, burying his nose further into my neck and tightening his arms around me.

I didn’t know if I should push the issue. We were an unmarried couple sharing the same bed, even though my Russian was barely there. I didn’t want to rock any boats. Boats sank. They sank with bodies in them.

“He asked about you.”

“Oh,” I said, leaving the conversation open. My stomach tightened, the butterflies dancing a jig as I waited for his response. I doubted I wanted to hear what they had discussed. My father didn’t always have my best interests at heart. He could have ordered my Russian to return me to my family. However, I was finding my way here, forging my path. Separation would cause more harm than good.

“I told him you were well and practicing your wifely duties.” He chuckled, his smile widening.

I bopped him on the top of his head. “You couldn’t have said that. My father wouldn’t have taken kindly to the implication, and you’re still breathing.” I placed two fingers at his neck, pretending to check his pulse.

“I did.” He laughed so hard that his whole body shook. “I told him you were alright. You’re safe here, which he already knew. I just filled in a few more details about your daily habits. Cooking, school, monitoring your club, yadda yadda.”

“Is that a technical term?” It was easy to tease him. I’d never had a relationship before, and I wasn’t sure if this was normal, or if it would even last.

“Yup.” He was still smiling.

I kissed the top of his head. “When am I supposed to go back?”

“You’re not. I told him to consider it a part of the marriage contract. Try to leave and see how fast I tie you down.” All his humor quickly disappeared as he shifted further back on my shoulder. His eyes watched mine.

It was supposed to be threatening, but my body liked that idea. I wrapped one leg around the back of his knee to hold him tighter, subconsciously rubbing against him.

“Sunday is family dinner, so we’ll go early, and you can pack up anything essential you want to bring here.” His arm wrapped tighter around my waist. My father had sent Angelo with a packed suitcase the day after the raid, so I had some of my clothes and toiletries.

“My father’s allowing this?” I was in disbelief. The only thing I could think was that there was something in the marriage contract that had scared my father. He wasn’t normally so agreeable, but he’d backed down to my Russian on more than one occasion.

“He doesn’t have a choice.”

“What about school?” My stomach tightened at the thought of not being able to graduate in the spring.

“Ivan knows you’re heading back to class on Monday. I’ll introduce you to the driver before you leave with them.” He nuzzled his nose in the hair that hung over my shoulder. “They don’t have a problem wearing jeans.”

---