Page 18 of Cruel Russian King
Pissed at how close I’d come to losing my shit, I retreated to my chair. The buzz of my cell shattered the tension in the office. It was Yegor.
I exhaled hard, dragging my gaze from Ninel. She turned and walked out without another word. Only when the door shut did I answer.
It was going to be a long ass day.
Chapter 6 - Ninel
I’d been married to Artyom for two weeks, and boredom was settling in like a storm over a fourth of July parade. I wasn't used to not having a phone or Mariya to talk to, or being cooped up for days on end having absolutely nothing to do.
Sure I had a routine when I woke up: wake up, shower, dress in whatever outfit Artyom lay out for me and then we'd have breakfast together…with zero conversation.
Urgh!
Today after breakfast, I decided to walk along the estate and feed the swans, but they weren’t there. One of the guards said they’d gotten sick, and needed to be taken away. In their place, koi fish glided through the pond.
Yesterday, I had asked Artyom about the conditions of our marriage, about my rights. He made it clear that sex was expected if I wanted him to take me out in his territory, although he claimed that wasn't what he meant.
Yet, last night I hadn’t slept well, anticipating him coming to our bed, but he hadn’t.
Would you have pushed him away if he had?
I sighed. Honestly, I didn’t know.
These days, around Artyom, I never quite knew how I was supposed to feel. He was attractive, yes, and a friend, or at least I thought so before he kidnapped me.
But when his hands rested at my hips, in his office and those intense grey eyes of his met mine, all I wanted to do was to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
I wished I had someone to talk to or at least something to distract my thoughts from Artyom. Before getting to know him he was known to be cruel but after the peace treaty I saw a side of him I never knew. The fact that he kidnapped me made me realize that he never forgave Lev or Jaroslav for marrying Katya and Vera.
But a part of me wondered how much of him playing “nice” was the real him?
He hadn’t hurt me since I arrived. And if he was as cruel as we thought he was he would've already forced himself on me. But, he seemed content to remain in his office. I could smell his bodywash sometimes, his aftershave in the bathroom of the mastersuite, but otherwise, he stayed away from the bedroom.
A small smile curved my lips as it dawned on me that he hadn’t forbidden me from exploring his territory, so I decided to test that boundary.
At least it would give me something to keep my mind busy.
I made my way inside to the bedroom. I dressed quickly in jeans, boots, a tank top, and a jacket. I tucked my hair under a baseball cap, threw on a pair of sunglasses and made my way to the garage.
The garage held four SUVs, two Jaguars, a Porsche, and a Ferrari. Those were the cars that I could name. I made my way to the key rack which luckily was labelled. I grabbed a key for one of the armored SUVs, because it made the most sense. Well…at least when I was in the vehicle. Once out I didn't have my knife so I'd have to rely on hand to hand combat or find a weapon to defend myself.
I prayed nothing like that happened because if it did I knew Artyom will never let me out of his sight.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I adjusted the mirrors, pressed the garage door, bit my lower lip and waited. I expected guards to rush in and stop me but no one came. A thrill ran through me as I turned the ignition and drove toward the front gate.
One of the guards stepped forward, motioning for me to roll down the window, which I did.
He gave a curt nod. “Be safe, Mrs. Rykov.”
I nodded back, rolled the window up, and the gate swung open. I drove through, the estate receding behind me, feeling the first rush of freedom in fourteen days.
For a moment, I thought about going to Lev. But seeing that no one had shown up at Artyom’s house, I figured he’d told them I was fine, and they believed him. If I showed up and gave my side of the story, it could shatter everything both factions had been building over the past year. Besides, I’d promised Artyom I wouldn’t contact them. Hopefully, keeping that promise would earn his trust.
About fifteen minutes later, I parked in front of one of the Rykovs restaurants. I figured they’d know the license plate and keep the car safe. I hopped out, locked it, and slipped the keys between my fingers…just in case.
I wandered from store to store, admiring trinkets and clothes, wishing I had money to buy a few things for Alexi, Evie, and my sisters. The movement gave me a fleeting sense of freedom, but loneliness clawed at me, and tears misted my eyes. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked aimlessly, trying to shake it off.
Then I remembered an art gallery nearby, the one Kira had brought me to when I visited her. As I headed there, the hairon the back of my neck stood on end, and unease washed over me.
