Page 53 of Savage Reign

She can tell herself she hates me all she wants, but I don’t think her feelings toward me are that simple. I think she needs to cling to that hate like a shield because, without it, she’s scared of what she’d do or how she’d feel. But if she wants to play this game, I’ll indulge her.

Yelena looks up from the sink, a grin lighting up her face. She puts down the plate and dries her hands. "What a fantastic idea," she says, beaming at Sofiya.

Sofiya lifts her chin and looks at me like this is some kind of trick. “When you mentioned shopping, I assumed it would be one of your minions taking me, not you.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint. Would you prefer I send a minion instead?”

“Nonsense,” Yelena interjects, bustling over and practically ushering Sofiya from her seat. “You must go with your husband.”

“Husband.” Sofiya makes a face. She turns to me, planting a hand on her hip. “I’ll go to see the look on your face as I spend as much of your money as I can.”

I chuckle at her threat. “Watching you try will really turn me on.”

With a mock huff, Sofiya brushes past me out of the kitchen. Before I can follow, Yelena stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Be good to her,” she says quietly.

My muscles clench, but I don’t argue. Yelena’s earned her place in my life, and I know she means well.

I catch up with Sofiya as she heads down the stairs. The guards stationed outside quickly look away when she nods and offers a polite smile. Good. They know better than to let their eyes linger.

I lead her to the sports car, opening her door and gesturing for her to get in. Her eyes narrow with suspicion, like she doesn’t trust my intentions. Last night felt like a step forward, as if we’d called an unspoken truce, even if only for a little while. But judging by her cool demeanor today, it seems that moment’s passed.

When she slides into the passenger seat, I lean down to grab her seat belt and pull it across her upper body. My fingers graze her breasts, and she exhales shakily as I click the buckle into place.

“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, a blush creeping into her cheeks. I’m struck by her beauty. Her bright hazel eyes lock on mine, neither of us willing to look away.

“When you see how I drive, you’ll understand.”

Sliding in beside her, I start the engine, shift into gear, and pull away from the house.

The roads around my estate are empty, as they always are, because it’s private land. I bought much of the surrounding area to ensure my privacy and safety.

I push the car faster, the engine growling as I accelerate. Sofiya stays silent, but when I glance over, she looks like she’s fighting a grin. When I take a sharp turn, the tires gripping the road tightly, a smile finally breaks free.

Fuck, she’s even more beautiful when her face lights up like this. It’s a sight I don’t get to see often—not that I deserve to, after everything I’ve done.

I tap play on my phone, scrolling until I find a gritty rock track that blasts through the car’s speakers. Sofiya settles back in her seat, the wind tousling her hair.

This is the first time she’s seemed relaxed around me, so I keep my mouth shut, knowing whatever I’d say would probably ruin the moment.

When the road snakes on a downward curve, I shift down and accelerate, drinking in her thrilled laughter.

“Jesus, maybe you missed your calling as a race car driver,” she offers.

I blow out a breath. “Maybe, but where I’m from, that wasn’t exactly an option.”

She’s quiet for a moment as if weighing her words. “I didn't know you grew up with Eva and Emil.”

Irritation spikes through me. “Was Emil telling you stories last night?”

“Not stories, but it came up in conversation.” She angles her head toward me. “He also said you went to jail for Sergey.”

Fucking Emil. To this day, I feel like an idiot. I didn’t see Sergey for what he’d become until it was too late. Eva used to warn me that he didn’t have my back the way I had his, but I refused to believe it. I’ll never be blindly loyal to anyone again.

Sofiya swallows, the little tendons in her neck working. “Why did you take the fall for him?”

I hate talking about my past, but I feel I owe her an explanation. She wants to know how I became this way—hardened, a monster in her eyes—and the answer is simple.

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