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And when he sees this, I wonder what new nickname he'll call me.

Printsessa?Britvochka?

Or something else?

Something inappropriate?

20

ANATOLY

I standat the bottom of the grand staircase and check my watch. I had sent Svetlana up almost three hours ago, and Indigo is about to be late.

Not surprising. Defiance seems to be her preferred language, even after what felt like a breakthrough the other night at dinner.

My attention is drawn to the sound of her door opening upstairs. I look up, preparing to say something to her for keeping me waiting as she appears at the top of the stairs in what used to be the cream dress that I sent her.

Except it looks nothing like the original now.

Where the original went down to her feet, this version barely covers the curves of her ass even as it cleverly hides the scars on her inner thighs. The once-modest neckline has transformed into a deep V that accentuates the valley between her breasts. The fabric clings to every curve of her body like it was painted on.

And to complete the outfit, she’s chosen a pair of white heels that contrasts against her bronzed caramel skin. But it’s her hazel eyes that pierces me right to my black soul. They’re still soft with that air of innocence I can practically taste.

But now there’s a challenge in them. And with every step down, she sashays her hips just enough to send another burst of blood rushing towards my dick.

Fuck.

My mouth goes dry and I grip the banister to steady myself as she comes closer and closer.

"What’s wrong, Tolya?" she asks when she’s close enough, voice honey-sweet with mock innocence. “Not what you were expecting to see?”

I force my face back to neutral, even as heat beats a steady drumbeat in my body. My guards line the foyer, and every single one is staring straight ahead, jaws clenched, doing their damnedest to not look at my wife while simultaneously failing miserably.

I glare at them all, suddenly filled with the need to hit something.

And to my disappointment, they keep their eyes forward.

"This isn't what I sent you," I say, my voice low and dangerous when she reaches the bottom step.

"It’s not." She tilts her head, blue hair falling across one shoulder. "But I thought I'd make some improvements."

“Improvements?” I climb the stairs and position myself in front of her but she takes a step back to keep us both at eye level. "You practically ripped this dress to shreds."

"What else did you expect from abritvochka, Tolya?"

My jaw clenches tight enough that my teeth might shatter at any moment.

Clever girl.

I grab her by her elbow, and pull her close. In the process, I catch another whiff of her floral scent and feel my pulse coming alive as if a shot of liquid fire had been poured into me. She doesn’t shy back. It’s taking every last fiber of restraint in me to not move my hand down from her arms down to her back and around the curve of her ass.

But she can’t look like this, no matter how much I want her to look like this.

Not today.

I lean in again, resisting the urge to bury myself in her hair and whisper quietly enough so only she can hear me as my eyes rake over the scandalous dress one more time.

"You need to change.” My voice takes on a renewed urgency. “Now.”