Page 43 of Cruel Russian King
If I had to bend, I would…but only on my terms.
She didn’t stir until around ten that morning. Her lashes flickered, then her eyes opened. It took her a long moment before she turned her face toward mine.
“I’ll grant you your wish to see your siblings,” I said, coldly. “But only if you eat over the next two days.”
She nodded.
I walked out of the room and kept my distance after that.
But Ruslan kept me updated, and she was eating. It was enough for me to make the call to Konstantin. I needed him to arrange everything without a single mistake.
On the second night, I had Ruslan tell her I’d be there at eight to dress warm: long sleeves and jeans.
When I walked into our bedroom at exactly eight, she was already sitting on the bed waiting. Her eyes lifted, meeting mine. She looked healthier than she had before, but I knew damn well it was makeup she had plastered on her face.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded once.
I guided her outside, my hand at the small of her back. Not a word passed between us as I helped her into the SUV and took my place behind the wheel.
Thirty minutes later, we crossed into Safin territory. The shift in her was instant, her shoulders squared, and her eyes brightened.
But when I turned toward the club Avit and Pyotr ran instead of Lev’s house, her head whipped toward me, and suspicion darkened her gaze.
We pulled up a few feet from the club, and I killed the engine. Her hand flew to the seat belt latch, but I caught her wrist before she could undo it.
“We’re not leaving the vehicle,” I told her, my grip firm on her hand, my eyes holding hers.
Her brows furrowed. “What? Why? How the hell am I supposed to see my brothers then?”
“On video.”
Ninel looked as though she was about to protest but thought better about it. If she had done it I would've turned the damn car around to let her know that I controlled her movements and it wasn't the other way around.
I pressed the button on the dashboard, and a screen slid into place. My fingers flew over the controls until the feed connected. Her five brothers appeared sitting in the office inside the club.
The raw tangled sob that tore from her throat gutted me. Her shoulders shook as she stared at them.
I half expected her to scramble, to claw at the door in desperation trying to get out. She wouldn’t have been able to since I'd flicked on the child lock on her door. And even if she screamed until her throat bled, trying to get someone's attention from outside, it wouldn’t matter. The vehicle was soundproof, and none of the windows could go down.
Thankfully, she didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, she sat there, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
I could handle her anger, her defiance, her sharp tongue. That was the Ninel I knew how to control. But this version of her, the one breaking apart silently right in front of me…
Fuck. I wasn’t built for that.
We sat in silence for the next hour, eyes fixed on the muted video. She had stopped crying about forty-five minutes ago, but every now and then a faint sniffle broke through.
Then, abruptly, she turned to me.
“Why do you hate my brothers? Why do you want revenge on them this badly?”
I lifted a brow. “Them marrying Katya and Vera the way they did doesn’t warrant revenge?”
“Not if your sisters are happily married with children.” Her gaze held mine. “I’ve heard Katya’s and Vera’s side of it. I’d like to hear yours.”
