Page 91 of Owned Bratva Bride
“I’m asking you why you don’t have them now,” I clarified, glaring daggers at him.
He bowed his head slightly, knowing better than making an excuse.
“I leave by six. Those numbers should be in today’s reports by then,” I instructed.
“We’ll have them documented before six, Boss,” he promised.
As I headed toward my office, I told Leonid, “I’m not seeing anyone today. Ifyoushow up in my office, I’ll drill holes in your head.”
“Yes, Boss,” he replied, nodding repeatedly.
I went ahead of him, shutting my office door.
I poured myself a drink and went to the couch. I needed the alcohol in my system; I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t kill one of my men for coughing without it.
As the heat spread down my throat, I sighed.
I wasn’t just upset because of Marielle’s anger or hurt.
At the foundation of all my unpleasant feelings about the situation was guilt. A heavy load of it.
I never really stopped to think of how confusing my push and pull was. I always felt her unease around me wheneverI pushed her away, but I never thought of the effects in the long run. I only thought of how hard it was not to pull her in whenever she reached out to me. I didn’t think of how it must feel to be the one being pushed away and pulled in, only to be pushed away again.
It must have been hell for her.
And I was angry at myself for inflicting such pain on her.
When I got home that evening, I lingered in the dining room just to see if she was in the kitchen. I didn’t hear her voice. She wasn’t in the study either. Hope filled me at the thought of her being in our bedroom.
I didn’t see her when I opened the bedroom door, and then I saw her pulling a fabric out of the wardrobe in the closet.
Her surprised eyes met mine and dropped instantly.
I swallowed.
She looked toward the closet entrance where I stood as if she was wondering when I would leave.
I stepped into the closet, and she dropped what she was holding, her eyes on the closet door as she walked away.
I grabbed her from behind just as she took a step past me.
She tried to yank my arms away, but I tightened my hold, pulling her into my chest.
“Eduard!” she cautioned.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Still pushing against my arms, she answered, “Wonder whose fault that is.”
“I’m not letting you go until you hear me out,” I disclosed, my voice level.
“Leave me alone!” she yelled.
“Please, baby.”
“Let go!” she insisted, her voice shaky. “You can’t call me that and then….”
Her hands weakened against mine, and I came in front of her.
