Page 39 of Cruel Russian King
I laughed at the disbelief carved in each word. “Yes, he did. You have met Lev and Jaroslav, right? Badass Bratva men who melt like butter for their wives?”
Her laugh joined mine, and she nodded.
“I’m not saying Artyom is melting at my feet…”
But you want him to…
“…but things aren’t bad between us.”
A genuine smile curved across Kira’s face and she pulled me into another hug before pulling back. “Is it wrong that I’m glad you’re married to him? I’ve always worried my brothers’ wives wouldn’t like me. But if you’re with Artyom, you’ll have respect from Yegor’s and Zahkar’s wives too. So if they mistreat me I can come to you about it.”
“You think your brothers would choose women who’d treat you poorly?” I asked, surprised.
Kira hesitated, then shook her head slowly. “Not on purpose. But after the vows are said, things change. People change. Masks fall off.”
Before I could respond, Artyom stepped into the room.
“Ninel, Kira, join us in the lounge for drinks.”
Kira stood immediately and left without a word. I rose as well, turning to face him.
“You’ve put your siblings in a horrible position with their sisters and my brothers,” I said, unable to hide my frustration.
Artyom lifted a brow, his voice calm, face blank. “My sisters placed themselves in that situation. Whatever’s happening now is merely the consequences of their choices.”
“You really don’t care about anyone but yourself, do you?” I snapped.
“When emotions override logic, Printsessa, people end up dead,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t have the luxury of caring for anyone when the lives of my siblings, and the strength of my faction, are in my hands. I do what must be done.”
You heard it from his own mouth. He doesn't have the luxury of caring for anyone…that includes you.
“But you…”
“Printsessa…” His voice dropped to a stern growl, igniting sparks between my thighs.
After having his hands on me all day, my body feels achingly deprived. Is that why I’m reacting this way? It doesn’t make sense.
Especially since he doesn't care about you.
He extended his elbow.
“Take it, Printsessa,” he commanded. “I'll officially introduce you as my wife to my siblings.”
Reluctantly, I slid my arm through his. He covered my hand with his and my heart raced, finding a warped sense of comfort by his touch.
I knew if I didn’t do as he said, he would probably send them away and never let them return. But if I played his game, if I followed his rules…maybe he’d let them visit, especially Kira. Because I did miss them, and having them visit would be better than sitting at home alone.
When we entered the lounge, Artyom stopped.
“Let me introduce you to my wife. Mrs. Ninel Rykov.”
One by one his siblings came up to me and kissed me on the cheek welcoming me to the family.
Zahkar, Kira and I sat on the sofa sharing a bottle of wine.
“So, Ninel…how islifetreating you?” Zahkar asked uneasily.
I looked across at Artyom and Yegor. Artyom's gaze bore through mine. Yegor sat his back facing me but every muscle in him was tense as he spoke softly to Artyom who remained stoic.
