Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
He was sad.
I had an overwhelming need to hug him. To offer him comfort, so against my better judgement, I did. I stepped up to this man, who put fear into me, and I wrapped my arms around him. “It’s … it’s going to be okay,” I said. I had no idea what I was saying.
“You’re a sweet girl,” Ivan said.
He patted my back. I didn’t want to be known as a sweet girl.
I took that as my cue to step back, giving him the space he needed. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets, and hoped I hadn’t broken any rules. This was awkward and so far out of my depth.
“Drink. You want a drink.” I turned my back on him and rushed to the kitchen, needing to put some distance between us.
My hands shook a little as I filled the kettle.
Andrei had offered to have food sent to me, but I was happy to cook for myself. It was nice not having my mother or a chef breathing down my neck. There were small freedoms here, but not a lot. I wished I could go outside. There was so much I missed, mainly volunteering at the animal shelter.
I didn’t get a reprieve from Ivan’s company for long as he entered the kitchen.
“This is nice,” he said.
“Andrei does have good taste.”
“I’m not sure he’s aware of just how good his taste is.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I didn’t comment. My life depended on me being able to bite my tongue and not say a word.
Ivan stayed silent as the kettle came to a boil on the stovetop.
“Do you like tea or coffee?” I asked, presenting a box and a jar of each.
“I’ll let you decide.”
Again, was it wrong of me to choose for him? I settled on coffee. With Ivan Volkov here, I felt I needed to have every single part of my senses and my wits about me. This man was dangerous.
With the kettle boiled, I poured our coffee and we moved toward the sitting room. I sat on the corner of one of the sofas, sipping at the scalding liquid. I’d used plant milk for both of our drinks and I watched Ivan take a sip.
“Not too bad.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t have creamer or whatever it is you use.” I cringed. Was that disrespectful?
Ivan chuckled. “This is just fine. So, tell me, Adelaide, how is married life treating you?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him how bored I was, and how Andrei and I weren’t a good match. My life would be over if I even suggested a divorce. Not that I’d seen anything. Other than the one dinner, Andrei came home when I was asleep. Our paths rarely crossed. Sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find his arms wrapped around me. It was always so dark, I wasn’t sure if I felt it or not.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I instead focused on the man in front of me, sipping his coffee.
“It’s good.”
He tutted. “I don’t like being lied to. Even I can see that you’re at your wits end.” He pointed toward the markings on the floor.
“I’m fine. Honestly.”
“You know, Andrei’s not a hard man to understand.”
“Really?” I asked. “Then tell me why he seems intent on boring me to death.” I gasped and stood. “Crap, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to … oh, my God.” I put a hand to my chest, trying to tell myself not to panic, not to worry. I had just snapped at Ivan Volkov. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Ivan chuckled. “You are so charming. I can see what he sees in you.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“Oh, I know.”
He wasn’t going to kill me.
Sitting down so that I was perched on the edge of the sofa, I held my cup between my hands and waited, trying to find the right words. Ivan wasn’t a good person. I knew that, but he seemed reasonable. I was a fool for even thinking it.
“I … Andrei can’t stand me,” I said. “I think you chose the wrong sister. I know Bethany did something wrong, and I’m sure she regrets whatever it is she did.” I’m not sure if they told me what Bethany did, or if I’ve been so consumed with my own life that I’ve forgotten. “I think … don’t you think it would be better if he married someone else?”
Ivan sipped his coffee but his gaze stayed on me.
There was the fear rushing down my spine. As well as the sick feeling that I had fucked up big time. This wasn’t good. This was scary.
“You want a divorce?” Ivan asked.
“Andrei hates me. I think this is … we’re not a good match.”