Page 21 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
When we arrived, I pulled out her chair. She sat without a word, and I took the seat beside her, at the head of the table.
It was time to stop stalling. I’d delayed this long enough. The next phase of the plan started now: seduce Vera and uncover the Rykov family’s secrets. If Artyom thought he could try to break our deal and then send men to kill me without consequences, he was gravely mistaken. That was a mistake I’d make sure he paid for every miserable day he had left on this earth.
Chapter 8 - Katya
My eyes fluttered open. I turned toward the nightstand clock and groaned, still sore from yesterday's training session. It was six-thirty, thirty minutes before Lev would waltz in and escort me to the gym.
Dragging myself to the bathroom, I couldn’t help but wonder if women went to the gym half to work out, and half to ogle the hot guys.
Because every time Lev stepped into my room in those loose shorts that stopped just above his knees, showing off his sculpted calves, and those sleeveless shirts that flaunted muscular arms and the tattoos snaking from his elbow into his shirt…I wanted to rip off his shirt to see his entire artwork, and I didn’t just mean the rest of his hidden tattoos.
As I brushed my teeth, I thought more about Lev. He wasn’t the man I thought he was. After forcing me to marry him and my interactions with him previously, I had pinned him as someone mean and heartless. Yet, during our sessions, he was nothing like that. He was surprisingly…patient.
His willingness to correct firmly yet kindly had me a bit taken aback. Honestly, I expected a drill sergeant, someone who'd belittle me if I messed up. But I was relieved I got the former, not the latter.
Now that I’d seen that side of him, and I was ninety-nine point nine-nine percent sure he didn’t actually want to hurt me, I gave up on plotting to escape again. This time, I’d try something different. I’d appeal to the good in him, the man who trained beside me at the gym, who talked to me over breakfast like I was human.
And when he started leaving my bedroom door unlocked, I knew it was a test to see if he could trust me not to run again. I wanted to earn his trust. Even with my newfound freedom, I stayed in my room, reading books or watching television. I hoped that once we had built trust that maybe, just maybe, he’d forgive my parents for whatever they’d done to him…and he'd let me go.
I had just finished pulling my gym top over my head when I heard the bedroom door close. My heart skipped a beat because I knew Lev was on the other side of the bathroom door, waiting for me. I gave myself one last glance in the mirror and frowned. At least I was getting the exercise I needed to lose some of this unwanted weight.
I sighed. Maybe if I were slimmer, Lev would touch me more during our training sessions. When I got the position wrong, he’d either demonstrate it himself or adjust me slightly, but his touch never lingered. And God, did I want it to. Every time he touched me, it felt like he was marking a piece of me. It wasn’t supposed to feel sensual, but it did, sending shockwaves through me every single time. It made concentrating during training nearly impossible. Worse, it was frustrating. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. This was a marriage of convenience for him, not love. He made the rules. So why did I even care how he touched me?
He was the enemy.
I needed to stay focused on the goal: build his trust, so he’d let me go.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Vera, is everything okay in there?"
At least he didn’t barge in like he did the bedroom. That was another thing, he kept calling me Vera. But what choice did I have? I answered anyway.
"I’m okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes," I called back.
He didn’t respond, but I heard his footsteps retreat. I quickly pulled my hair into a messy high bun and stepped out of the bathroom.
Today, Lev looked tense. His eyes were darker than usual. Maybe it was something work-related.
“Everything okay at the office?”
He gave a small smile. “Nothing I can't handle.”
“You can talk to me about it. I've been told I’m a good listener.”
His eyes lit up with amusement. “Trust me, as the Bratva leader of my faction, I’ve got everything covered.”
My breath hitched.
Did Lev just say Bratva leader? As in…the Russian mafia?
And here I thought he was just a damn loan shark.
That explained so much. The shootout. The guards. His controlling ways. The competence that oozed from him.
But even with this revelation, I wasn’t afraid of him. One, because he hadn't done anything for me to be afraid of, and two, I’d learned early on not to judge people by where they came from, or how they survived, since I’d done questionable things to survive, too.
“Like I said, tell me about it on the way to the gym.” I smiled and gently held his arm above the elbow.
