Page 25 of Sweet Deception
My brows furrowed. “What?”
“You need company. I’ll get you a dog. Pick any breed.”
I laughed, bitter and humorless. “A dog? That’s your solution?”
He stepped closer, his expression dark. “You’re ungrateful.”
“I’m lonely, not a child needing a pet!”
His jaw tensed. “A dog will be loyal. Unlike people.”
My anger boiled over. “Why won’t you just talk to me? I’m your wife, yet you act like I don’t exist.”
I turned to leave, but his hand snaked out, catching my wrist in an iron grip.
“Let go!” I shoved him, my frustration exploding into physical defiance. He barely moved. I kneed his groin and swung wildly, my hands striking his chest, my body vibrating with rage.
He caught my wrists with ease, his grip bruising.
In an instant, he had me pinned to the bed. His weight pressed against me, his breath warm against my face.
“Let. Go.” I thrashed beneath him, but he was unmovable. I was trapped.
His grip tightened, his eyes dark with something unreadable.
“Stop fighting me.” he murmured.
The way he said it... it wasn’t a threat. It was something else.
My breathing hitched. His scent... cologne, smoke, and something purely him, filled my senses.
“Get off,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
He didn’t move.
His fingers traced my wrist, his thumb pressing against my pulse. I knew he could feel how fast it raced.
For a second, a spark lit in his gaze.
Chapter 7
ANNA
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Gleb’s lips brushed against mine, and a sharp jolt of electricity surged through my body. My breath caught, my pulse hammering. For a single, maddening second, my anger wavered, replaced by something dark and treacherous.
But just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.
He pulled away with the same cold efficiency he did everything, leaving me trembling, not from desire, but from frustration. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. He was toying with me, as if testing how far he could push me before I shattered.
My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “One of these days, you’ll come home and find me gone.”
Gleb didn’t even blink. “You can’t leave Moscow.”
His tone was so final, so absolute, it made my skin crawl.
“I might let you roam the city,” he continued, his voice smooth, detached. “Let you think you have some freedom. But if you try to leave.” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating. “The consequences won’t be pleasant.”
