Page 74 of Owned Bratva Bride
But Marielle was the one my gaze landed on as soon as I got to bed. Seeing her wasn’t what made me drop my bag by the bed and go straight to her. It was how she looked wearing my white shirt that stopped just above her knees. She wasn’t aware of my presence as she moved and poked her head around the hangers, clearly looking for something.
Then she suddenly turned. Our eyes met.
The shirt was totally unbuttoned, and her black lingerie peeked at me.
I blinked once.
The energy between us sizzled with heated tension. I walked over to her, and she looked up at me. Just as my hand reached out to grab her, I came back to my senses.
I have to stop.
The shock and disappointment in her eyes as I pulled away at the last second made my chest ache.
There was something about the fact that I had been the one to reach out to her, that she wasn’t even trying to seduce me, that made my restraint even more painful. I felt like I had called her, only to end the call when she picked up.
As I had dinner that night, I thought over what I did—or didn’t do.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t regret it.
I fucking regretted it.
“Boss, Gary asked me to give you a message,” Harry informed, interrupting my thoughts.
“What message?”
“He asked me to remind you about next week’s event. Said you have the invite already.”
“Since I have the invite, why did he send you? Where did you even cross paths with him?”
“At the port earlier today, Boss.”
“Well, you’ve delivered the message.”
“He said to tell you that, since Sir Danil is out of town, your presence is critical.”
“Got it.”
“Goodnight, sir.”
I sighed.
I had forgotten about the event.
Marielle could come with me.
I’d attend.
Chapter 15 – Marielle
Things have been the same with Eduard.
Maybe a bit worse than they were.
After the night he fingered me against the wall in our bedroom, he had become as distant as he was before then. Then he started taking me with him to his Bratva meetings, and some of the ice seemed to melt. I occasionally caught him staring at me, watched him slightly side step whenever our paths crossed as if he was scared of touching me, and then he kissed me—in public, at that—at the club.
And there was the brief violence at the club against the guy who was talking to me. It probably made me a twisted bitch, but I didn’t feel so bad for the guy. I had made it clear to him that I wasn’t interested in small talk. Not when I was still reeling from my husband’s random kiss. The guy went on talking and even asking me questions. I gave him a polite smile once when he seemed not to get a hint.
After that night, thestatus quoremained. But that did nothing to how I started to see him more. I had no idea why, but it seemed to me that he was struggling. It was fine if he didn’t want marital intimacy or whatever. I decided that I was done seducing him.
