Page 32 of The Bratva King's Auctioned Bride

She fell into silence, and I had nothing more to say. No way to make her believe me. We were at an impasse. An insurmountable wall that was made of something so strong I didn’t think I could knock it over, either.

“You’re my wife,” I finally said. “You’re a Mikhailov now.”

Nothing, not even an angry huff. It was a long ride home.

Chapter 22 - Mila

Back to square one, furious at myself and full of regret. Well, not so much regret, which only added to my anger. How did it happen? How could I have folded like that so easily again? What was it about Arkadi that made me lose my ever-loving mind? It was no use beating myself up. I just had to promise myself it would never happen again. But with the echo of his hands still fresh on my skin, the memories of what he could make me feel with his tongue, I didn’t feel all that confident.

After a tense ride home, I stormed upstairs and started flinging whatever I could grab into an overnight bag. Arkadi followed me and watched in bemused silence until the bag was full of t-shirts, sweats, and a few things from the bathroom.

“Did you change your mind about going to Moscow?” he finally asked when I zipped it up and slung it over my shoulder.

Ha, not likely. I had to get away from him and stay away before I slipped up again. “No,” I said. “I’m sleeping in another room from now on.”

As I hurried out, I fully expected to feel his hands on me, dragging me back, exerting his will over me once more. I didn’t want that, did I?

So far, I hadn’t given him any reason to treat me poorly despite my ongoing silence over the last few days. See what breaking that silence had led to? What if walking out on his one demand that we slept in the same bed was the thing that pushed him over the edge and made him show his true nature? He was a monster, always had been, but was just admittedly very good at hiding.

I seethed at his taunts from the car. Did he really believe he could stand right in front of my brothers, and they wouldn’tknow it was him? If I thought less of him, I’d turn around and goad him into proving that bold claim. At least that might get me back to LA.

He didn’t shout for me to get my ass back in our room, and he didn’t chase me, either. I found a guest room at the farthest end of the opposite side of the house, huffing after the long journey. Let him come after me here. I’d barricade myself in if I had to.

I did just that, slamming myself into the luxurious bedroom and pushing the antique writing desk in front of the door. There was a seating arrangement in the corner of the room, but I couldn’t budge the couch, and the spindly armchairs would have crumbled like paper against Arkadi if he truly wanted in. The desk itself wasn’t super sturdy, either, but short of moving the bed as well, which was almost as big as the one I’d left behind, it was my only option. I held my breath while I waited for the sound of his footsteps to come crashing down the hall outside, but everything remained silent.

Dropping my hastily packed bag, I paced the length of the room, drawing the heavy curtains in case anyone was watching for me through the windows. It was a shame to blot out the pretty, peaceful view of the front hedge maze in the moonlight, but I had to remain on high alert. It had been stupid to let my guard down, be tricked by his kind understanding when I admitted the worst failure of my life.

Tricked by him opening up and letting me in on his own missteps. So what if he’d shown a bit of vulnerability? It was cheap and easy for him to do so when he held all the cards. But what was his endgame in all this?

It was disconcerting that no one had come looking for me yet. It had only been a few days, but surely Nat shouldhave sounded the alarm that I was missing by now. Sure, she was caught up in her art scheme, but she’d never get so busy that she wouldn’t notice her best friend and favorite aunt had disappeared without a trace.

It had to be more of Arkadi’s tricks. He was so damn good at him, I feared I’d never be found. If he could make himself disappear so easily, it had to be a breeze for him to take other people out of the equation. For all I knew, I’d never see anyone in my family again.

It was such a terrible thought that my mind quickly veered away from it, maddeningly careening right back to the hot and steamy episode in the car. In the car! He really did make me lose my damn senses. Overcome with need, all I wanted, all I cared about, was him, and this time, it had nothing to do with alcohol.

It was more terrifying than considering what he ultimately had in store for me. What was that, exactly? It bothered me that he wasn’t asking for anything. He should have been making demands, setting up a call with Aleks to get all his holdings back in LA.

Instead, he was offering me a business in Moscow.

He couldn’t really want to stay married to me, could he?

Never. It was impossible. Except… maybe?

That thought made me feel strange. Much too warm. I stopped pacing, looking around at the big room I ended up in, feeling suddenly small and lonely in the vast space. Unlike my brothers, I didn’t live in a massive mansion on acres of property, but a cute, two-bedroom place in walking distance to my favorite coffee shop and gym. Most people didn’t know who I was, or if they did, they didn’t dare mess with me, so it was perfectly safe.

Of course, my brothers kept a watchful eye, but I had friends and knew my neighbors. I was hardly ever alone. I wasn’t scared to be by myself, I just preferred company.

Even the likes of Arkadi? No, not quite that lonely. After a while, it was fairly clear that he wasn’t coming to look for me or drag me back to his room, so I threw on a bathing suit and headed down to the pool. Floating in the cool water with the warm night breeze washed away some of the same tension I couldn’t seem to shake.

Not quite all of it, though, and it came rushing back when I spotted Arkadi on a lounge chair, seemingly intent on his phone. So he had been watching me all along, showing up after I’d been in the pool only half an hour or so. Since he was doing such a good job of pretending to ignore me, I decided to do the same thing.

Flipping over from floating on my back, I swam a few laps, feeling his eyes on me with every stroke through the water. Like a cat, he was biding his time, waiting to pounce on his prey. Well, I was no scared mouse, and I’d had enough of this infuriating game he was playing. Pulling myself out of the pool, I grabbed my towel and strode past him without glancing his way. Exactly like he wasn’t there at all.

But I could feel his eyes on me; that wasn’t my imagination. The sound of his low, mocking chuckle as I hurried by almost had me whipping around to start something. I slowed my steps, waiting to hear him shout at me to go back to our room.

I paused at the door, fiddling with my shoe. Still waiting for that booming command.

It never came.

---