Page 44 of The Russian's Forced Bride
The revelation wasn’t anything new, and deep down, I’d already pieced together the fact that Joaquin probably had something to do with the death of Arlette’s mother, too.
He truly was a greedy bastard.
“Oskar and I don’t think you’re too soft for this, Rafael,” Matvey now said, rising to his feet. “You’ve got the brains as much as the ability for violence. But unlike the rest of us, you’ve held the finances of this empire for years. We trust you.”
They trusted me.
That was all I needed to hear.
I rose to my feet as well and crossed the space between Matvey and me, extending my hand for a shake.
When he wasn’t pushing my buttons, I figured Matvey wasn’t so bad as a Pakhan.
Matvey took my hand in a tightened grip, a cocky smile playing on his lips.
“I expect Joaquin to be dealt with soon, Rafael. As you said, he’s causing a lot of problems—and trust me, if I were to getdirectly involved with this, there would be a lot of unnecessary bodies stacked up.”
Matvey’s eyes leveled with mine, conveying a cryptic message through his words.
He wanted me to take care of it without drawing too much attention.
Unlike Matvey, there was a coordination to the way I handled things.
We were like two sides of the same coin.
I nodded, gripping Matvey’s bloodstained hands as I said, “Joaquin Saavedra is going to regret ever messing with the Bratva.”
And toying with what I considered mine.
Chapter 14 – Arlette
A ray of light burning through my eyelids caused me to shuffle in my sleep, and by the time I awoke, a frown lined my face when I saw that the bed was empty, with the blinds drawn open, allowing the burning sun to filter into the room.
I figured Rafael wasn’t home again, even though today was Saturday. But then the smell of bacon wafted into my nostrils and made my stomach rumble. My brows furrowed as I sat up, swinging my legs off the bed.
Rafael hadn’t hired any cooks as far as I knew, and aside from that, no one had access to the house except for us both.
My breathing hitched beneath my throat as a wave of panic coursed through me, and tiptoeing across the room’s floor, I grabbed one of my heels from the walk-in closet. If it were an intruder, I planned to knock them out with the shoe’s heel. I knew it wasn’t enough to counter a killer, but I was certain I could do enough damage with it.
So, tightly hugging Rafael’s T-shirt that I wore against my body, I carefully slipped out of the room and onto the corridor where I could see whoever it was without having to go downstairs.
But then my eyes widened in surprise when I saw Rafael dressed only in sweatpants, his muscled, tattooed back facing me.
It was the first time in forever that I had woken up to find him home in the morning. He had been so busy these days that we hardly got the time to see each other, and now here he was, cooking me breakfast.
I couldn’t have been more relieved—and gladder, even.
“Are you just going to keep staring at me,kroshka?” His voice cut through the room, and heat flooded my cheeks with embarrassment.
His senses were sharp as always, but I wasn’t surprised by that fact any longer. I had come to accept the kind of man he was. And these days, it didn’t matter anymore that I had once hated him. My feelings toward him had become confusing.
Some days, I despised him, and on others, I longed to feel all of him.
I hurried down the spiral staircase, and as soon as I reached him, I hugged him from behind, resting my head against his muscular back. His woodsy scent filled my senses, and I couldn’t help but think how much I wanted him to be around me like this.
“Another nightmare?” he asked, still flipping the bacon that sizzled in the frying pan.
I lifted my head off his back, pulling away from the hug as I now stood beside him, facing him, and leaned my back against the wooden tabletop.
