Page 22 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

Then he forced himself to calm down and reached for my hand. And I let him take it, because going back in time like that always made me shaky and lightheaded, like it was all still happening.

“I’m so sorry you had to live that way,” he said.

“Moving to San Diego was the best thing that ever happened to me, even though I still had to go home to visit. At least I didn’t have to live there anymore.”

“Never,” he said. “You never have to go back to him again. You’re out of it now.”

I was spent from speaking about something I’d kept bottled up for so long, and I didn’t want to get into a fight with him again, but the words spilled out anyway. “Now I’m just under the thumb of a different controlling man.”

I pulled my hand out from under his and looked away as pain welled up in his eyes. I stared at my plate until he paid the check, and we headed home. Back at the house, the groceries he’d arranged to have delivered had arrived. After Dima carried them in, I started unloading them and putting them away. I wasconscious of him standing in the kitchen doorway watching me, but studiously ignored him until he let out a big sigh.

“Will you stop acting like an employee?” he snapped irritably.

I whirled around and planted my hands on my hips, staring him down. “How am I acting like an employee? Wouldn’t a normal wife put away groceries?” I countered. “Am I supposed to let the food go bad?”

Here I had let my guard down around him again, even just a little bit, and he was acting like an ass despite it. What did I expect? Good and pissed at both him and myself for forgetting exactly what he was, I decided the food could rot for all I cared. Keeping my glare locked on him, as if daring him to try to stop me, I stormed out of the kitchen and upstairs to my room.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, and it had nothing to do with my mad dash up the stairs. I fully expected him to come bursting in and demand… something.

Did I want him to do that?

Hot tears of frustration welled up in my eyes, but I swiped them away, refusing to let even one of them fall. Pacing for a while, nothing happened, and I lay down on the bed to stare at the door, wishing I’d had the foresight to grab the bag of clothes he’d bought me so I could change into something clean.

I would have worn that dress until it stank before I went down there and admitted I needed anything from him. A little bit later, there was a thump outside my door, and I sat straight up, waiting for him to burst in.

How would I react? All I knew was that I was shaking, and not with fear but anticipation. I wanted something to happen. But nothing did, and I finally got up and tiptoed over to the door,cracking it open a couple of inches to peer out. Sitting on the floor in the hall was the bag with my new clothes, a tray with some snacks, and a bottle of water.

Enraged by the sight, I warred with myself on whether or not to accept the olive branch. Deciding it was only hurting me if I didn’t, I slid the tray and the bag into the room and slammed the door shut, further infuriated by the sound of a soft chuckle from down the hall. By some miracle I managed not to scream and make him laugh even harder.

To hell with Dima Fokin. He could fuck right off.

Chapter 14 - Dimitry

It took every ounce of willpower I had, but for the next few days, I gave Olivia space to work out her feelings for me on her own. But, God, did I miss her. Just talking to her would have been nice, but she was determined to ice me out, even though I’d mistakenly thought she was finally opening up to me.

As much as I just wanted a smile or a few words, I craved the feel of her, but valued keeping my head on my body too, and the glares she did give me when she happened to glance my way told me I’d lose it if I tried to get too close.

I loved that fiery, independent spirit and never would have seen it squashed, but damn it, life was getting pretty dull without her quips and interesting takes on things.

By now, I had a security team in place, and so far, I’d been able to keep my brothers off my back without telling them where I was. There was no reason to suspect Olivia had anything to do with me falling off the map for the moment, since she had already quit, and Max was determined to respect her privacy.

From what I heard during my very brief conversation with him yesterday, Brooke was disappointed that she left without saying goodbye, but it had only been a few days so she still thought Olivia was just busy with the move and her new job.

And she really was busy, though not in any way my sister-in-law would have suspected. I hired a crew of workers to come in every day to clear away the jungle that had taken over the back, and to landscape the area around the pool. Surprisingly, Olivia took an interest in the project and was helping to plan it, even rolling up her sleeves and pitching in. When I watched her gleefully hacking away at the thick foliage with a machete, I wondered if she was taking a little too much interest in it.

Training for the moment, she really did get to take my head off? I longed to joke around with her like we used to when Max was in a foul mood, and we had to band together, but I had promised to give her space, so I left it alone.

Once the first layer of vines and scrub trees had been cleared away, the workers uncovered a series of trails, probably made by deer or coyotes, leading off into the mountains. Olivia seemed extremely interested in them, wandering further and further into the jungle to check them out.

As I headed out on the fourth morning of our honeymoon with two cups of coffee, since she might have been ignoring me, but she never ignored an offer of caffeine, she was nowhere to be seen.

One of the workers pointed to a trailhead, and with a rapidly beating heart, I ran out onto it, imagining the worst. If she had it in her head to try to get through the jungle and over the mountains, she wouldn’t make it half a mile without seriously risking her life.

Thankfully, she hadn’t made it far enough to attract any pumas or gotten herself hopelessly tangled up in the invasive vines that seemed to grow faster than anyone could chop them down. As soon as I saw her leaning down to check out a small lizard that sunned itself on an exposed rock, I was able to take a breath. She was safe, but I wanted to wring her neck for being so foolish.

“This isn’t Griffith Park,” I said. “These are just game trails, not mapped out for safe hiking.”

She sighed heavily, looking past me to the opening in the path, only about ten feet behind me. She hadn’t gone far at all, but had seemed enrapt by that damn lizard. Could it be that shewas also perishing from boredom, and that was what had led her to throw herself into the gardening project?

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