In my ear, a soft voice.
“...Bye.”
I didn’t reply.
She thought I wouldn’t care if she was sick? That I wouldn’t drop everything for her?
I pressed my foot to the accelerator, the engine growling beneath me. The car shot forward.
I couldn’t wait to get home to my wife.
Chapter 11
ANNA
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When he agreed to bathe with me a few days ago, I was stunned and embarrassed.
I had instinctively covered my breasts, not because I was ashamed, but because he didn’t react. He barely looked at me, and that stung more than if he had stared.
He pulled my hands away, his gaze lingering, not in lust, but something else. Thoughtfulness? Restraint? A muscle in his jaw ticked before he looked away, as if forcing himself to be indifferent.
Did he find me lacking? Or did he want me?
I knew what I felt.
My body ached for him.
But I didn’t know how to say it.
He had been gentle with his touch, careful with every movement, as if I were fragile. He kept asking if I was in pain, still mindful of Antonio’s brutality.
Afterward, I expected him to toss a towel at me and leave.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he dried my body himself, his wet skin gleaming under the dim bathroom light. I watched, helpless against the slow, unrushed torture of his movements.
Did he not want me?
Was my body not enough?
Was my chest too small? My hips not the right shape?
He wrapped the towel around me and lifted me into his arms. I curled against him, pressing into his warmth, desperate to feel closer.
“You’re hard.” The words slipped out.
Gleb stilled.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked to his wardrobe, dressing as if nothing had happened.
I tilted my head, studying him. “You wanted to touch me just now. I saw it.”
Gleb’s fingers twitched at his belt buckle, then he suddenly exhaled, stepping back. “Uncle Antonio had a sick wife he loved... and a mistress he adored. I could kill them both. As his punishment.”
I stiffened. “No. Please, no! They’re innocent. Killing them won’t bring me peace.”