Page 28 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride
As soon as he’s out the door, I spin to argue with Jaroslav.
“Why? I feel like you’ve granted me one last night of freedom here before you smother my life out completely!” I shout.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Angelika. For crying out loud. It’s a bodyguard, not a life sentence.” He rolls his eyes at me, making me angrier. “Besides, you aren’t even out and about when they took you the last time. The more you go out, the more reassurance I need that you’ll be ok. And Diomid has offered to help with that. Besides, we’ve been struggling with Diomid and his resistance against the alliance. It’s still new and someone delicate in many ways. While everything that happened with you is tragic and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, there is a silver lining to it—that Diomid is working with us for the first time.”
So this is about business. Bratva business. Again, he doesn’t care about me, my life, or what I want.Anger spikes, and I want to argue with him.
But then guilt slaps at me, reminding me that I created this whole situation, that I even covered up the truth about it to stay out of trouble. I bite my tongue and take a slow breath.
“Fine,” I huff.
“Good,” Jaroslav smiles, and his expression lets me know it really doesn’t matter whether I agree or not—it’s happening either way.
With a heavy sigh, I storm up to my room.
Diomid will be back in the morning to start his 24/7 watch over me. Tonight is my last, brief flirt with freedom, my brothers being my guards for the moment, and I want to just enjoy this time alone, even if it’s just me, having my own space in my bedroom.
However, it’s almost impossible to relax when I’m so angry. I can’t believe they’re taking my freedom away again. It’s intrusive and controlling, and I’m miserable just thinking about how smothered I’m going to feel. I may as well have stayed in the safe house. At least one guy was being bossy over me. Now it’s him and my brothers—everyone questioning every move I make.
By the time I fall asleep, my eyes are raw, burning, and red from the tears I’ve cried.
It’s time I accept that my life doesn’t belong to me. And maybe it’s time for me to stop fighting it. I’ll only end up making myself and everyone around me miserable with conflict.
***
In the morning, I wake up, and for a moment, I can’t figure out where I am. My own bedroom is unfamiliar to me until the fog of sleep fades away and I sigh, remembering what’s in store for me from today onward.
Reaching over, I stretch for my phone on the nightstand and check the time.
Seven. I wonder what time Diomid is arriving to stalk me around everywhere.
I suppose I should get up, have a shower, and grab a cup of coffee in preparation for the day.
The shower is hot, and I stand under it for longer than normal, letting the steady pressure of water massage against my neck and shoulders.
Dressed in a pair of jeans—it feels weird to be in jeans after wearing comfy sweatpants for almost two weeks—and a cropped long-sleeve white t-shirt, I wander into the kitchen, secretly hoping I won’t bump into any of my brothers because I’m not in the mood to deal with them now.
As I walk in, my heart jumps in surprise. “Diomid?” I stammer, confused. “You’re here already?”
He glances at me, smiling, then carries on making his coffee.
Which he then hands to me.
“Good morning. Two sugars and an extra splash of milk. I was just about to come up and wake you,” he says.
“Wake me? I don’t get it, even bodyguards don’t dictate what time I have to be up in the morning,” I say bitterly.
“No, but I didn’t want us to miss the flight I have planned.”
“Funny, but thanks for the coffee anyway. It’s really good,” I say, rolling my eyes.
The man does make an excellent cup of coffee, though. And really good tea. Pity he’s such a playboy, and I was just some random girl he picked because he happened to see me first.
“You need to get your passport and pack for a warm climate,” Diomid carries on, leaning against the counter, sipping the second cup of coffee he made.
“I can’t just leave, Diomid. My brother will lose his mind. Whatever you have planned, I can’t go.”
He grins, shaking his head. “I’ve already spoken to Jaroslav and your other brothers. They are all aware of my plans and my reasoning. So, please will you just come with me without being difficult about it?” he’s smiling but frustrated. I realize that he’s frustrated with me because I always argue with him whenever he asks me to do anything. Including getting on a plane and flying to an unknown destination. Which, technically, is exactly the kind of spontaneous adventure that I always crave. So, why am I being so suspicious and skeptical when the offer is right in front of me?
