Page 133 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

I keep away from the shadows but this stupid white dress might as well be a glowing sign. My feet drag over rough gravel, but I don’t pay attention to the sharp edges as it cuts through the tender flesh of my feet. I just need to get to him. That is all that matters right now.

I need Gabriel. He will protect me.

My defender. My lover. My dirty little secret.

And the man I truly think of as my husband.

“But he’s not,” a nagging voice in the back of my head grates.“He’s not and never will be.”

Fear of just how true that is leaves a nasty taste in my mouth. And desperation. I come to the end of the alleyway and cross a small road that leads to townhouses bunched together with rows of backyards sectioned off by pretty white fences. The symbol of perfect little lives closed in with picture-perfect gardens.

Dirty lies.

You can’t tell me a white fence makes for a happy life. I flick away all the swirling thoughts and shove aside the pain drilling holes into my heart. I can’t control others, but I sure as hell can control what happens to me. Grit and determination slither their way into my spine. One vertebra at a time I can feel my resolve lock into place.

I’m here and I can either turn around or…

“Let’s hope I’m not wrong.”

I refuse to be shoved on some plane and flown halfway across the globe to be a wife to a man I despise. Kirill Antonov is a cold-blooded killer dressed in impeccable suits. But still a killer.

Shadows and darkness hide my presence as I finally free the lock on the gate and push inward. I don’t move until the lock relatches.

Inside, I feel a sense of calm come over me but I would be a fool to think I am safe.

Only a person with a death wish makes a deal with the enemy and I am about to see how far he will go to save me.

I take in my surroundings one last time. I cross the small yard and take the steps up his back porch. There’s a keypad on the wall and I punch in the six digits, sliding through the final door between me and the man I love.

Silence greets me.

It takes me a minute to realize the shaking I feel isn’t an earthquake, but my knees clanking. I pause, take a deep breath and tell myself this is the right move. I have to do this to protect myself. I rub my belly. And my unborn child.

Darkness throws the entire house into deep shadows. Grays and blacks wash across the furniture. Couches, bookcases, and the odd chair are all bathed in monochromatic tones. It takes a few seconds for my eyes adjust. I’ve been here once a week for months. Sometimes I stay longer than expected and sometimes I barely have time to share what I’ve come to say before circumstance drives me back into the street.

This time is different. Energy crackles around me. I never thought freedom would feel like this.

“Gabriel?” I call out softly.

Nothing.

I walk slowly toward the back of the house, letting my fingers brush against the cool walls and a stack of books on an end table. The backs of chairs.

Soft carpet cradles my throbbing feet but it’s the silence that hugs my heart in a death grip that has me biting at my lower lip.

It’s too silent.

Unease settles in my limbs. Tingles prickle up the back of my arms. Maybe it’s remnants of leftover adrenaline in my bloodstream. Or it could be the cold air brushing over my damp skin. but something tells me the light he usually leaves on at the end of the hallway is off for a reason.

There’s only one way to find out.

I edge down the hallway and when I get to his bedroom door, I slowly push it open.

Thankfully the hinges are silent, unlike the blood rushing in my ears.

I pause. A large form is in the middle of the bed. Skylights let in flashes of light from the rumbling storm. In those bursts, I see the dips and contours of bare skin.

Gabriel is a beautiful specimen of a man.

---