Page 23 of The Russian's Forced Bride
A sigh of exhaustion escaped my lips as I ran a hand through my hair, staring at the pile of documents stacked on my desk. I had been sorting and investigating all the transactions Jaxon Whitmore had ever made with Joaquin.
The documents had been classified, but since the Bratva now owned a large share of Whitmore’s many companies, we now had access.
I needed to understand how Joaquin and Jaxon Whitmore became entangled and how this could lead me to Joaquin and his plans for the Bratva’s cash-flow system.
If I were to succeed in destroying that man, I had to know just how he worked—who he worked with, how he laundered all his money, and all the illegal routes he used in transporting his illegal goods.
I was planning to find that man and eliminate his empire from the planet. Matvey had advised to leave his death to him, but Joaquin was clever. Since Jaxon’s death, he had been lying low and hadn’t shown himself publicly.
The door to my office burst open, shaking the polished wooden desk I was working at. I didn’t bother lifting my head to see that it was Arlette. We didn’t have any house staff right now, except for a gardener who came at set hours, and even if we did have staff, none of them would have the nerve to barge into my office.
“I need the key to any of the cars in the garage. I need to go out,” she declared, her voice stern but wavering slightly.
I didn’t want to glance at her, but like the magnet she was, I felt my eyes lift to hers. Even from across the room whereshe stood glaring at me, I could see the bags under her now dull green eyes.
She looked like she had cried to sleep as she hugged her silken robe tightly against her body. It accentuated her curves, and even though she was tired, she still managed to be sensual.
I dropped the stack of papers in my hands atop my table, cracking my sore knuckles. It was the first time in a week she had spoken to me, and I could see it would lead to yet another mindless squabble between the two of us.
It was honestly starting to get on my nerves.
So instead of trying to bend her by sheer force, I figured I could try reasoning with her.
“You have to lay low,kroshka,” I reminded her calmly, but her face contorted in anger, her lips curling in distaste as her nostrils flared.
“Fuck you,” she spat. “You can’t keep me locked in here. I have a life. I have to manage Dad’s work back at the office. I have to see my friends!” she yelled, slightly shaking.
I ran my hand through my face. It was like trying to reason with a toddler. She didn’t understand just how naïve she sounded, claiming she wanted to live a normal life. Her life of normalcy ended the moment her father signed her over to the Bratva.
She wasn’t a princess anymore, but a prisoner.Myprisoner.
“You don’t know just how much of a favor the Bratva is doing for you,kroshka—”
“Stop calling me that!” She stepped into the office, allowing me to see that she was barefoot, pale, and almost resembling a ghost.
My chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight of her. At the doorway, I didn’t have to see her up close, so I just assumedshe was being her usual bratty self. But now, I didn’t know what to think anymore.
She really hated me, and I was making her life miserable, but I didn’t care. She was married to me. She couldn’t escape from me. The only way she could be free from my hold was to kill herself.
And no matter how brave and stubborn she thought she was, I knew she was actually afraid of dying.
I laid my elbows on the desk, lowering my voice so I didn’t scare her in any way.
“Alright, Arlette. I won’t call you that. But as I said, I can’t let you out. We still don’t know where Joaquin’s men are.”
The words escaped my mouth before I realized it, and I muttered under my breath as her eyes widened.
The sunlight filtering into the room captured the gleam of tears in her eyes as she fisted her chest.
“What do you mean?” She shook her head in disbelief before the words came out in a whisper, her lips trembling. “Joaquin killed Dad?”
I wanted to hold her. It seemed she was losing her mind slowly as the days passed, and I could do nothing but watch.
And though Joaquin was still roaming the streets of wherever the hell he was, I could at least assure her that I’d get to the bottom of this.
I slowly got out of my seat while she was still in a trance and approached her. A slight creak on the wooden floorboard snapped her out of it, and when she finally saw me coming closer, she inched back as if she was repulsed by me.
Her doe-like eyes were wide with panic with each careful step she took away from me, and it made me wonder what I’d done.
