Page 45 of Cruel Russian King
“In our world, whispers are weapons. One day you’re untouchable, the next day you’re a liability. To go from leading one of the strongest factions to watching my name get dragged through the fucking mud because my sisters also defied me? That was a tough fucking blow to take.”
“Do you think if the founding families got a visit from Lev and Jaroslav that they would help fix your reputation?” she asked, hope filling her voice.
“I'm not sure if it would matter at this point,” I stated honestly.
Ninel wanted to help fix things.
And me?
I wanted to take her in my arms and crush her against me. Nobody had ever tried to understand why I did half the things I did. My father just demanded I do whatever he asked. And my mother? She tried to keep me grounded in the allure of childhood wonder for as long as she could. But, when I exhibited more and more tendencies like my father, she stopped trying to change me…and never accepted who I grew up to be. Who I needed to become.
Ninel placed a hand on my thigh to soothe me, and slowly moved her thumb along it. The heat from her touch shot straight through me, and I had to bite back a growl.
Goddamn it.
One touch, one innocent hand, and I was about to be undone with my fucking clothes on.
Just then her brothers rose from their seats and filed out of the room. A few minutes later, we watched as they filed out of the club. Ninel's hand squeezed my thigh until they had hopped into their vehicle and sped away.
Slowly, she removed her hand from my thigh. I wanted to put it back, to keep it there. But, I let go the urge to put it back…barely.
“Thank you for letting me see my brothers. I'm glad they're safe,” she whispered, her voice distant. “Take me home.”
Without another word, we drove away. But, something told me that the woman sitting next to me wasn't about to let it go.
And for that I needed to be prepared.
Chapter 14 - Ninel
Ughhhhhh!
Artyom was so damn infuriating!
He made me want to rip my hair out. He was so stubborn, so impossible. I had been trying to get him to see that he was the only one still holding onto the past. Everyone else had moved on, yet he clung to it, pretending it was more important than being happy for his sisters, who had husbands worshipping the ground they walked on.
But no, according to him, he had a reputation to maintain. How he showed up for the rest of the world mattered more than how he showed up for his family.
I had told him Alexi and Evie needed all of us, not just some. He just shook his head, lecturing me about Bratva toughness, about them learning harsh lessons early, about how it had shaped him into the leader he was today, and it would do the same for them.
I reminded him he was more than a leader. He was the oldest Rykov sibling. His choices were hurting everyone else, including his siblings who loved him and looked up to him. He just closed himself off and walked away.
Kira, Zahkar, and Yegor had cut all ties with my family and their sisters because the guilt of knowing where I was ate them alive. Not only couldn’t they face the others, they hadn’t visited me either.
And Artyom…he kept leaving gifts but I refused to open them. I just dropped them at the door of his office, my silence a quiet protest.
Not wanting to drag Ruslan into trouble again, I waited until he was off duty and slipped out into the city. I needed space to think, a place where I wasn’t reminded of the brute I was forced to marry.
I knew the first place he would look was the art gallery, so I went the opposite way. That day, I wore no disguise. Dangerous? Maybe. But it would piss Artyom off, and right then, I needed that. I was in black knee-high boots and a cute floral dress with buttons down the front.
The more I walked, the more restless I became. Because deep down, I knew that walking wouldn’t fix a damn anything. Only Artyom had the power to fix this, and that thought alone grated on every last nerve I had.
As I wove through the crowd, I kept glancing at the street mirrors, because it's engrained in me to always be on the look out for trouble. As I crossed the street I glanced up at the street mirror to scan the crowd behind me. I do it again and again. Someone was following me. I forced myself to stay calm.
A man in a suit, baseball cap low over his face, sunglasses hiding his eyes. I swallowed hard, remembering everything Artyom had warned me about his faction…safe places, tattoos, coded colors.
I lengthened my strides, my chest tightening, and rounded the corner, sliding into the nearest store. Ducking behind a display case, I pressed myself against it, barely daring to breathe.
Peering around the case, I caught a glimpse of the man passing the entrance. He took a step back and looked inside. I caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his neck and pulled back before he could see me.
