Page 18 of Silent Ties

My already red cheeks, flame.

He runs his thumb down my cheek, the pad digging into my lips. “It’s okay, I already know how talented you are.”

I push him back with more force than I thought I had. For a second I tense, but while his jaw ticks he never lifts a hand. It’s the opposite. He cups my cheek, more gently than before, and leans into my ear.

“I don’t care what dermatologist you go to, but you will behave.” He nips my earlobe for good measure. And then pushes me to my knees.

CHAPTER 5

Russet

I’m not Marissa’s spy. Really I’m not. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two.

I might have a ring on my finger and the marriage is well consummated by this point, but I’m still the stranger. A potential threat placed on the inside. I’ll be watched and monitored. A guard placed on me at all times.

But at least they remained in the lobby when a nurse took me back for my appointment.

“Contact dermatitis,” Dr. Lowe says after two seconds. “You been using any new products?”

“Nope.”

“What kind of moisturizer?”

Back and forth we go, my legs swinging while I sit on the weird little table that’s always in doctor’s offices. She recommends a slew of things and it hits me for the first time that I now have disposable income to buy these fancy creams and moisturizers.

Not that I want to push it. Maxim’s yet to discuss ground rules and it’s not exactly like I want to ask him, “What kind of wife do you want?” Because then I’d be admitting that this isall real. That for the foreseeable future I will remain his wife, that this new life is all I’ve got.

So far, all Maxim wants is to fuck me. He toes that edge of cruelly torturing me without being so cruel that I’m ready to beg Marissa to get me the hell out of there.

He’ll bite and lick and tease. His voice grows dark and he’s demanding.

My toes curl just thinking about it. There’s a heavy dose of panting and the punishments always turn into pleasure.

But as I wait in the tiny doctor’s office while one of the nurses runs to get me a sample, I can’t help but wonder what the fuck do I do now?

Every day this week, Maxim left to go to school and work, while I lingered. There’s Olga, who I’m certain is spying on me, and the guards constantly ‘protecting’ me. What does the wife of a bratva leader do? Other than sit at home and wait for her husband to get back and fuck her?

“Come on,” I whisper to myself.

I held up my end of the bargain. When I agreed to pay Daisy’s debt I took the IOU and did exactly what Marissa demanded. Showed up, got dolled up, and attached myself to the Russian mafia.

I need to know that it wasn’t for nothing. That Daisy is safe.

Marissa knows I’m here. The moment I put my name down for an appointment, Marissa received a notification. But the doctor and nurses are genuine. They suggest a calming moisturizer and ask me what SPF I use. No one slips me a message. No one confirms that my sacrifice was worth it.

“Have a good day,” the nurse says, showing me out. I awkwardly pay for the few things they prescribed with a credit card I’ve never seen before. Just another way to monitor me.

The guards load me up in a black SUV, my body swaying when we turn a corner. The world is bright with a sun thatdoesn’t match the frigid winter temperature. It’s the time of day when most workers are at their desks, but plenty of citygoers fill the sidewalks.

I’m left feeling strangely empty until my hand slams against the tinted window. “Stop here.”

One of the guards, the bald one I’ve talked to the most, barely turns his head back.

“I want to get a coffee,” I tell him pointing to a cute corner café.

“You’ve got one of those fancy machines at home.”

My teeth grit. I don’t need him to tell me what’s in my kitchen.

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