Page 43 of Merciless Union
“No.”
He huffs, stepping back. “So was all that shit about your mother being on her death bed a joke, a ploy to get me to let you see her, all so you could grab your painting shit?”
Seeing my mother coughing up blood flashes through my eyes. I couldn’t even manage to see her dead body. I don’t think I could ever see it.
“Actually, yes, it was. I lied so you’d let me go see her. And yes, I grabbed my painting ‘shit’ as you so nicely called it.”
“Fuck, Arina,” he snarls. “You can’t go behind my back like that ever again. It will make me look bad in front of my men if I can’t even control my fucking wife.”
“Just so you know, I don’t feel bad about going behind your back. In fact, it actually felt good.Reallygood.” I start to pick up my supplies.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He reaches for one of my canvases.
I whip it away but not fast enough. He grabs it and smashes it onto the floor, stomping on it. I stare in shock as he grabs the other canvas and ruins it. Then he rips my bag full of paints and brushes away.
“I’m throwing this away.” He storms over to the kitchen sink and starts pouring out all the paint, then breaks each brush up, pushing them down the garbage disposal. I can only watch it all happen. My body is still numb from my mother’s death. I can’t even react to save my painting supplies.
“There,” he says, looking smug. “Now you know to take me seriously. When I tell you something, I expect you to listen.”
“No,” I say. “What did you do?” I run up to him, slapping his chest. “What did you do?”
He grabs my wrists. “I’m doing what I have to. You need to follow my orders. I’m the head of the Bratva, not you. Never forget that.” He steps away, turning his back on me.
“I’ll just go out and buy more!” I yell at his back.
He spins around to face me. “Why do you insist on making everything so fucking complicated?” he shouts at me.
“Why do you insist on trying to control me?” I shout back.
“I’m your fucking husband!”
“And my mother just died, asshole!”
He pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “What did you just say?”
Tears spring into my eyes. “My mom is dead. When I was over there, she started coughing up blood, and that was that. She died soon after. So that should make you happy. Maybe I was punished for lying to you. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me I should obey my husband. That if I don’t, bad things will happen to me. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that my mother is dead and I already feel like utter crap. So, yes, continue to shout at me. Ruin all my painting supplies. Do what you have to. But I’m going to go into my room now to lie down. And I’m going to cry again. And I’m going to mourn. So do what you will with that.”
He looks me over. “Arina, I didn’t know.”
I huff. “Doesn’t matter. You still chose to control me and act like an asshole.”
He reaches a hand out to me, but I step away from him, holding up my hand. “Don’t,” I say.
Maxim’s hand hangs in the air before he drops it.
I turn toward the bedroom. “Don’t join me tonight. I want to be left alone.”
He doesn’t say a word as I walk away.
CHAPTER11
Maxim
Over the next few days, Arina shuts herself off from me. I hear her crying throughout the day. There’s nothing I can do for her except give her what she wants—space.
We have something in common now. We’ve both lost a parent. Except it doesn’t bond us, it just creates even more space between us. I wasn’t upset when my father died. But Arina, she loved her mother. It’s clear in how she mourns.
I feel partially responsible for her pain. I acted like an asshole, destroying her painting supplies. I was too rough with her physically.
