Page 41 of Used By the Merciless Bratva
“Or what?” she shot back instantly, her tone sharp. “Are you going to shout at me again? Or are you just going to stare at me with that angry look you always have? You’re so good at that. You’re so good at being mad, but you never tell me why.”
I slammed a hand against the wheel, a sound that made her jump. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Tempt you to what? To lose control again?” Her voice was full of mocking laughter now, a sound that sliced throughme. “Because that’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? That they’ll see the real person underneath all that fancy suit and cold fury?”
I said nothing, my knuckles white on the wheel. She was playing with fire, and she knew it.
“Is that why you were so good at pretending with Irene?” she continued, hitting with pinpoint accuracy. “Because she’s an old friend? You looked so comfortable with her. You were so happy to see her.” She paused, and I could feel her eyes on me, watching, judging. “You didn’t look at all like a monster then. You didn’t look like a man who only cares about business and power. You looked like a normal person.”
That hit me. It hit me hard. I hated that she saw it. I agree that she could see the difference.
“Irene is an old friend,” I growled, the anger finally breaking through the ice. “She is a trusted ally.”
“And I’m just a pawn,” she shot back. “A pawn in a pink dress you got to show off. Why else would you be so angry? Because I was talking to the other people? Because I was laughing with them?”
“You’ve never laughed like that with me!” I yelled, the words torn from me with a force that surprised even myself.
“Because you’ve never given me a reason to!” she screamed back, the car now full of our fury. “You don’t want me to be happy, Danil. You want me to be a quiet little doll you can keep on a shelf. A trophy you can pull out when you need to make a point. You only married me to have control over me. You never wanted to protect me.”
Her accusation, raw and unforgiving, was a final, brutal blow. It was the truth. The dark, ugly truth that I had refused to admit to myself. The car was a blur of motion now. My focus was gone. My control, the one thing I held onto, was shattered.
I slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt on the deserted highway. Katria was thrown forward, her bodylurching against the seatbelt. I didn’t care. I unbuckled my seatbelt and twisted in my seat, my body completely turned to face her.
“Control?” I snarled, my voice a low, furious rumble. I reached for her, my fingers digging into her arm, pulling her across the seat. Her body slammed against mine, the heat of her a living, burning thing. “You think you know what I want?”
My face was inches from hers, my breath hot on her skin. My voice was thick with rage that shook my entire body. “Then, I’ll show you what happens when a man has full control.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth, my anger and my possessiveness a potent, poisonous mix that was about to explode.
“I’ll show you what it means to belong to me. And when I’m done, you’ll understand. You’ll understand that you’re mine, and you’ll never challenge me again.”
Chapter 11 – Kat
The car ride back to the estate had been a terrifying silence. I sat there, my body buzzing with a strange mix of gear and adrenaline. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why Danil was so furious.
At the party, I had done everything right. I had smiled, mingled, and made conversation. I hadn’t acted like a resentful wife. I had played the part of the new Yezhov. So, why was he so mad? The confusion was a cold knot in my stomach.
When the car finally stopped, the silence continued all the way to our suite. He didn’t speak. I didn’t dare. He unlocked the door and held it open for me, and I walked in, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. The moment the door swung shut behind me, the cold, quiet control I’d exerted on him all night disappeared.
He didn’t even wait for the lock to click. He was on me in a flash, grabbing me from behind. One arm went around my waist, pulling me hard against the solid wall of his body. The other hand shot up to cover my mouth. The action was so sudden, so forceful. It stole my breath. I was completely stunned at his manhandling, my body going rigid with shock.
He slammed me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt me, but hard enough to make a point. His hand pressed firmly and unyieldingly over my mouth, effectively silencing me. The scent of him—clean linen and expensive cologne mixed with the low, musky aroma of his rage—filled my senses.
“Did you want to test me?” he rasped, his voice calm, but with a terrifying, low, threatening edge. His lips were right beside my ear, the sound sending a shiver through me. “Because I don’t break. But I bend so much. And if you keep forcing me to bend, I’ll make sure you do too.”
I tried to squirm, to push him away, to speak, but his hold was impossible. My body felt small and useless against him.
“Just tell me, Katria,” he went on, his voice a chilling murmur that sliced through the quiet. “Just tell me if that’s what you want. Because you’ll get what you’re asking for. And you won’t like it.”
I stopped struggling, the fear of a cold weight in my stomach. He felt my stillness and slowly, cautiously, took his hand away from my mouth. I gasped, sucking in a long, shaky breath. My mind was racing.
“What is wrong with you?” I demanded, my voice trembling slightly. “Why are you acting this way? I did everything right at that party!”
He laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound that held no joy, only a bitter, cruel mockery. “You think you did everything right? You think you did what a wife is supposed to do?”
I was completely lost.
“Yes! I didn’t hide in the corner. I mingled. I was friendly. I played the part. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
