Page 46 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
I may be caught up with a man who has no qualms about hurting people when it suits him, but I’m still determined to save as many lives as I can one day.
While the professor does his thing, running us through slides on the board at the front, I happen to glance out the window just long enough to see him again.
My security, of course.
I still don’t know his name since he never introduced himself, but I have his face memorized already. Strong jaw and cheeks, dark hair tucked under his hat, civilian clothes, and a demeanor that’s just relaxed enough to pass as natural.
He’s everywhere at once, and he’s always scanning for threats.
I know he’s trying to blend in, but to me, he’s failing miserably.
Pulling in a breath, I subtly shift in my seat and return my focus to the lecture. That familiar rhythm sets in soon enough, and I let myself drift back to that world I knew before.
This is where I belong. Not in a warehouse shooting guns, or a penthouse—in Mikhail’s bed.
The reminder of what I did last night hits me like a cold front, but at the same time, the memory makes something stir in me.
I shouldn’t have slept with him again. I know that.
I know what he is and the life he leads. I know the people he’s tied to and how dangerous everything surrounding him is.
He’s a criminal and a ruthless man.
And yet, I’m still his wife.
Sitting in that lecture hall, it’s a strange thought that nobody else knows. I have to face that fact alone and continue like nothing has changed.
Resting my chin on my hand, I let my mind slip back to this morning. To how he said the words so casually:
You don’t need to worry—not while you’re my wife.
He made it sound like every aspect of my life could be safeguarded with money. As if my education was something he could buy and manage behind my back.
But it isn’t. This isn’t some fleeting daydream of mine.
This is everything I’ve worked for, and if I don’t focus, I’ll lose it all.
By midday, I’ve somewhat adjusted to my shadow tailing me between classes. Some students notice the strange man lurking around, but he stays as covert as possible.
Maybe they assume he’s campus security or some other undercover individual. Fortunately, nobody seems to ask any questions, and they move on with their day.
I just hope nobody puts two and two together and realizes he’s here for me.
While finishing my lunch alone, I see him again, a few benches down. He doesn’t approach or speak to anyone else, and I have half the mind to go and strike up a conversation with him.
But I have the feeling he either wouldn’t say anything at all, or I’d hear from Mikhail about talking to him.
Still, I continue with my day, handling even the heavier classes a bit easier than usual, thanks to my newfound gratitude for the schedule I had taken for granted.
The dense, grueling information I used to struggle to get through now seems oddly comforting in a way.
For a while, I forgot about the man outside, along with Mikhail. I take notes like my life depends on it, wondering if I’ll ever find a way out.
If I ever get to see my dreams all the way through.
***
When my day ends, I exit the main building and expect to find the driver out front, ready to take me back to the penthouse like clockwork.
