Page 93 of Savage Reign

THIRTY-FIVE

SOFIYA

I stand at the counter,my hands sticky with rice and ground meat, rolling the mixture into neat bundles as Yelena watches over me like a hawk. The kitchen is warm, the tang of tomato sauce mingling with the earthy smell of cabbage.

“Too loose,” Yelena says, reaching over to prod one of my rolls with her finger. “It’ll fall apart in the pot if you don’t tighten it.”

I glance down at the roll and frown. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”

Yelena shakes her head. “But it can be better. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

I stifle a laugh, trying again with exaggerated care. I don’t know how I let Yelena talk me into this cabbage roll lesson. Well, I do know—she’s trying to distract me, and honestly, I need it.

It’s been a tense few days since we were attacked in public. Still, it hasn’t all been bad. We’ve fallen into a strangely domestic routine. Niko wakes up early, works out, brings me breakfast in bed, and then we shower together. It always ends the same way—with me on my knees, bent over the sink, or my legs wrapped around him against the wall.

Afterward, he disappears into his home office for a few hours. I know he’s dealing with the fallout from the attack. He has reason to believe an Azerbaijani cartel is behind it, and he’s working on taking them down. I was surprised he shared that with me, since we’ve never really discussed bratva business before. When I asked him for details, he opened up, which is something I appreciate.

I’d like to say the public attack was the scariest moment of my life, but it wasn’t. Being taken and almost married off to Sergey was, but this came close. Once again, Niko saved my life.

Now, instead of fantasizing about him for the next five years, he could be mine.

My husband. My protector. Maybe even the father of my future children. I’m falling hard for him, which terrifies me because there’s still so much up in the air. He promised to make things right with my family and the Syndicate, and I have to give him a chance to prove himself.

But he needs to deal with the immediate threat first.

I sigh, presenting my latest cabbage roll for Yelena’s inspection.

She purses her lips, studying it like it’s a masterpiece, then gives me a small nod. “Getting there,” she declares.

I frown. “Well, if Niko complains about a cabbage roll falling apart, he’s welcome to make his own dinner.”

Yelena scoffs, wiping her hands on her apron. “You think that man would ever step foot in this kitchen to cook? Please. That’s why you need to get it right.”

“What is this about making my own dinner?” Niko’s deep voice fills the room as he strides into the kitchen. He looks mouthwateringly good in his suit. The dark fabric is tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and lean frame. Knowing what’s underneath all that material leaves my mouth dry.

Before I can respond, he’s behind me, his arms wrapping firmly around my waist, bringing my backside flush to his front. His lips brush against my neck, planting a lingering kiss that I feel down to my toes.

Yelena doesn’t miss a beat. She smiles knowingly, then quietly excuses herself.

“Going somewhere?” I ask. This life has inherent risks, but I don’t like the thought of him leaving the estate while his enemy is at large.

“Meetings. And I’ll be careful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin as his fingers trace lazy patterns along my ribs. “What are your plans?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I close my eyes when he drags his nose down the side of my neck. “I’m learning to be a perfect Russian wife.”

His chuckle vibrates against me. “You’re making Yelena’s dreams of domestic bliss come true.”

I snort. “I doubt I can ever live up to her standards.” I point and flex my healed ankle. “Might even put on one of those fancy leotards you got me and do a short warm-up sequence. I want to compile all the best practices the school instructors could use.”

“Good idea.” His palm slides lower, grazing my hip. “But don’t wear yourself out, because I have plans for you tonight.”

“Really?” I turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. “What kind of plans?” I whisper seductively.

He kisses my forehead. “We’re going out, and the only clue I’ll give you is to dress up.”

My head snaps back in surprise. “We’re leaving the estate?”

He smiles. “It’s safe. We captured the Azerbaijani cartel leader behind the attack and all his top lieutenants. He’s being transported to St. Petersburg today. So tonight, we celebrate.”

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