“I’m almost done,” she says stiffly, looking away. “You didn’t tell me how long we’d be gone.”
“Only a few days,” I tell her reassuringly. “It’s a quick trip, Caterina. I’m not trying to keep you away from home for weeks or months on end. Nor is it a punishment, as much as I know you think that it is. It will simply be helpful to have my wife with me for this particular trip.”
“So that I can be a trophy on your arm.” Caterina frowns. “But that’s all I was ever meant to be, I suppose. A trophy and a broodmare.”
“Did you expect more?”Did youwantmore,is the question that I want to ask, but I don’t. I’m not sure what I would do with the information, even if she said yes, that she wants more. How would I give it to her? After Vera, I’m not sure that I have any love left over, except for what I give my daughters. For Caterina, a woman I chose at least partiallybecauseof her lowered expectations, I don’t know what I would have to give.
“No,” she says curtly, turning away. “I knew not to expect more.”
But it still stings.I can hear the words she’s not saying, and that makes me wonder. I’d never thought that Caterina and I had that kind of connection, the kind that makes you able to hear the unsaid words, the unfinished sentences, anticipate the other person’s needs. And yet, I know what she’s thinking, as clearly as if she’d written it out for me in black and white.
She glances up and sees me still standing there. “What are you doing? Thinking about fucking me again?”
I’m tempted to tell her yes, and to stand up and bend over. The thought of having that power makes my cock throb, stiffening a little. But the idea of throwing her off her game by refusing to play into it is more enticing. “Get some sleep as soon as you can,” I tell her, ignoring the question and striding towards the bed. “The plane leaves early.”
* * *
To my surprise,Caterina is awake even before I am, dressed and already eating downstairs with her bags by the door. “You said to be up early,” she says with a shrug when she sees the surprise on my face, turning back to her bowl of oatmeal and fruit. “So here I am.”
I can feel the tension in the air between us as we finish breakfast and head out to the car, the bags already loaded up as the driver prepares to take us to the hangar where my jet is waiting. I’m sure it’s not the first time Caterina has flown on a private jet. Still, I’d expected to see some surprise on her face when she caught sight of mine, even if just surprise that I have such a luxury at all. But she just boards the plane without a word, silently taking a seat as she wraps a dark cranberry sweater around herself, looking out of the window with the same icy silence that I’ve become accustomed to when we go anywhere together.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” I ask with a hint of humor in my voice, trying to lighten the mood. “A trip to Russia?”
“I clearly didn’t have a choice,” Caterina says tightly. “So no, I’m not particularly inclined to be happy about it.”
I frown. “And if I had given you a choice?”
“I wouldn’t have come.”
“See? And I need you here with me. Thus—no choice.” I let out a sigh. “Things would be much easier, Caterina, if you’d stop resenting your duty to me so much.”
“I resent that duty being toyou.” She refuses to look at me. “It was bad enough when you were just Russian, Bratva, a man whose entire family is steeped in the blood of mine and those that worked for mine. But then I find out that you’re a man who buys and sells women. And you want me to give you a son to take over that same business.” Her voice cracks slightly at the end of the sentence, her jaw tensing. “So yes, I resent it.”
Ah. There it is.I hadn’t thought about the greater implications of Caterina discovering my business and how she would feel about providing the next generation to keep it going. “I respect women, Caterina. I always have. I tried to treat you with kindness. I love my daughters, I treat Olga and all of the staff with respect—”
“And yet you sell women into sex slavery. They don’t choose this. What about Sasha?” She finally looks at me, her dark eyes wounded. “What is she doing inourhouse? Was she meant to be a sex slave too? Or did you bring her home to be yours after you’re done putting a baby in my belly?”
I shake my head. “No, Caterina,” I tell her firmly. I’d wondered if she might think such a thing, but I’d hoped not. “No to her being in our home for my pleasure, that is. I have no interest in her.”
“So, what is she doing there?”
I let out a sigh. “She was one of the women slated for sale. A virgin. One of the guards raped her and took her virginity for himself. Rather than sell her to a lower bidder and a less desirable situation, I tried to make up for the abuse done to her by giving her a place in our home, on the staff, where she’ll be housed, fed, well cared for, and well treated.”
“But not free.” Caterina stares at me. “Or will you let her leave if she decides she no longer wants to work for you?”
I pause. “To tell you the truth,” I admit, “I hadn’t considered it. I rarely have staff leave—precisely because they’re treatedwell, Caterina. But if she wanted to—” I shrug. “She’s not a slave, whatever you insist on thinking. If she wanted to go elsewhere, I see no reason why I would stop her.”
Caterina purses her lips, but just nods, looking out of the window again as the plane starts to taxi down the runway.
“You still see me as this evil man.” I shake my head. “Everything I just said to you, and still—”
“She wouldn’t have been in that situation at all if you hadn’t kidnapped her!” Caterina glares at me.
“I shot the man who violated her. He’s dead.” I grit my teeth, looking Caterina dead in the eyes. “I killed him the moment she identified him as her rapist and freed her. What more do you want?”
“You to not abduct unwilling women in the first place and sell them.”
I let out a breath through clenched teeth. “You know nothing about the darker side of this world, Caterina. You were born into this life, but you’re a sheltered mafia princess, pampered and spoiled and bred to warm the bed of a man like me. No one has ever told you about the dark and evil corners of the world because there was no need for you to know.” I narrow my eyes, glaring at her in return. “Sasha was a foster child aging out of the system. They hadn’t expelled her yet, but they would have soon. She was already a few weeks past her eighteenth birthday. Do you know what happens to very beautiful, very poor virgins without families in Russia?”