Page 20 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

Being a wife to a Russian mobster is a busy job. You wake up, get ready for the day, make yourself look ‘presentable’ just so you can have breakfast with a scowling 6ft3 muscle bound man in a perfectly tailored suit.

It would be easier to dislike if said man didn’t look so disgustingly gorgeous in said tailored suit.

Or if he didn’t fuck me within an inch of my life that my nether regions still ached three days later.

Then there’s the sleeping arrangements. I go to bed just after 8pm at night and wake up at 6am. In between these times, Mikhail sleeps next to me without my knowledge; I know because I can still smell his gorgeous cologne on the pillow next to me.

No, I do not sniff pillows. What makes you think that?

Also, the fact that he’s getting his kicks with another woman shouldn’t piss me off, but it does. I shouldn’t care that he’s fucking someone else, right? I mean, at least he isn’t getting it from me again, or forcing me.

But the lack of respect for me, as his wife, just leaves me feeling … I don’t know, hurt? No, it can’t be hurt; that would be stupid.

Then there’s the music room. If I didn’t hate Mikhail so much, I would have fallen to his feet in thanks. There are at least five Stradivarius cellos in there; the one name I’ve only ever dreamt of owning.

But he got me five. FIVE. Holy shit, I know I have to thank him for it sometime, but fuck me if it didn’t feel like a bribe.

A very gorgeous, expensive bribe.

God, I need to get out of the house today. I can’t stand to sit here again and do nothing.

After getting myself ready, I head downstairs to have breakfast and, as usual, Mikhail is there already. Phone and coffee in hand, he doesn’t acknowledge me and is literally winning the IDGAF war between the two of us for the last few weeks.

So I decide to cut the tension, but then he beats me to it.

“We have an event coming up tonight,” he says, just as I was about to speak. “A gala with my father and others who couldn’t make it to the wedding due to a death in the family. Wear a dress and look presentable.”

“Yes, sir,” slips out before I can stop myself and his head snaps up. The heat in his gaze makes my skin crawl, and I immediately look away. “I mean, no problem. I’ll look the part.”

I know I said I wouldn’t look away from him, but that look in his eyes literally made my core clench. What the hell is up with this reaction? Clearing my throat, I force myself to look at him again.

Shit, he’s still looking at me like that.

“I … uh, I wanted to know if I can get out of the penthouse today,” I say, holding my coffee cup so tight that I swear I’ll break it. “With Alexei and Viktor tagging along, of course.”

Mikhail leans back in his chair and regards me for a few seconds before he nods. “That should be fine. You’re not a prisoner here, Gabriette,” he says and I nearly laugh in his face. “I’ll be home at about 6 pm, so we can leave at 7.”

I nod and muster up a smile before saying, “Thank you,” and turning my back on him so I can make myself breakfast.

Also, to hide my smile because he looks perplexed at the sudden appearance of my manners. While busying myself with the tough job of choosing a cereal, I hear his footsteps behind me, then he slides something across the counter and my eyes widen.

A fucking black card.

“Use it for whatever you need,” he says without waiting for anything else then retreating from the kitchen until I hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator.

It’s only then that I breathe out a sigh and put the cereals back before turning to my two bodyguards.

“Let’s get going, shall we?” I say, then for the next few hours I immerse myself in the mind-numbing art of shopping.

What’s the point of getting free rein of a black card if I don’t use it? Screw this man. He took my life from me, and made me beg him for his cock. Might as well spend his money.

When I get back, it’s nearly five, and I am actually tired. But there’s this thing with Mikhail tonight, so even if I wanted to have an early night, I know it’s not possible. I’ll be paraded as the wife of Mikhail Baranov tonight; yay me.

After Alexei and Viktor help me with my bags, I unpack everything and choose my outfit for tonight before running myself a bath. I have half an hour before he arrives back here, so I better hurry.

Dozing off in the hot water wasn’t on my list of things to do today, and when the bathroom door slams open, I sit up with a yelp.

Only for my heart to sink right into my stomach when Mikhail walks in, white shirt and face splattered in blood.

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