The door to the armored car opens, and I step out, the air chilly even through the cashmere of my dress. Viktor exited first, and he’s standing there, his gaze even colder as he takes my elbow, his fingers digging in as he leads me towards the house. The days of him touching me gently, being cautious of my healing injuries, are clearly past.
I twist my head around and see the others exiting the cars. I catch a glimpse of Sofia, standing next to Luca and whispering something to him, her bump starting to show under the shape of the sweater she’s wearing. I feel a leap of excitement seeing her, my best friend that I haven’t seen in what feels like months, but Viktor is already pulling me towards the front doors, not giving me a moment to greet anyone.
I catch a glimpse of Anika and Yelena getting out of one of the other cars, flanked by Sasha and Olga, and Max climbing out of another. I don’t see Ana, and I feel a sudden flare of panic, wondering if Viktor left her behind as some kind of beginning to my punishment. I know she won’t be safe in Manhattan, not if there’s been a mutiny with Viktor’s business. Several of Viktor’s brigadiers hate her because she’d spied on them to find out information for Sofia, and without Viktor and Luca there to enforce the treaty, she’ll be at their mercy.
“Where’s Ana?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from trembling as Viktor escorts me into the house, his grip on my elbow verging on painful. “You didn’t leave her behind, did you? You—”
“She’s in one of the cars,” he says sharply. “But you have other things to worry about right now.”
A wave of relief washes over me, so intense that my knees feel weak for a moment. “Viktor, I want to see Sofia. I haven’t seen either of my friends since—”
“There will be time for that if you don’t anger me more than you already have,” Viktor says tightly. “But for now, you’re going to come with me. And we’re going todiscussyour disobedience.”
The tone of his voice tells me thatdiscussingisn’t necessarily what’s going to happen. I feel my heart stutter in my chest, my blood running cold as fear wraps icy fingers around my spine, sending a shiver through me as Viktor escorts me towards a winding iron staircase. I catch a glimpse of a huge living room with a roaring fire already built and several other rooms with closed doors, but there’s no time to look for very long. Viktor is already hustling me up the staircase, behind me, so that there’s no chance of me turning and running.
Not that there’s anywhere for me to go. There’s no point in trying to run. My chances of escape are long gone, and I know it.
“The master suite is to the left,” Viktor says, nodding towards a set of heavy mahogany double doors. “We’re the only ones on this floor. Guests are on the floor above us.”
Lovely, no one will be able to hear me scream,I think dryly as I push the doors open. They swing open to reveal a bedroom that would have taken my breath away under different circumstances. The floor is gleaming hardwood, swathed in expensive-looking rugs, with a massive four-poster bed draped in velvet swags along the canopy. There’s a dark wine-colored duvet on it, with a mound of pillows and a thick fur throw along the end, with a nailhead leather bench at the foot of the bed.
The furnishings are all dark wood, from the side tables to the heavy wardrobe on one side of the room. There’s a stone fireplace on the opposite end, with a fire already built in it, with velvet and leather wing chairs arranged in front and a wooden table with a tray containing a bottle of champagne and two flutes. I almost snort aloud when I see that, as unladylike as I’m sure Viktor would find it. Whoever put that there was clearly trying to make this a romantic setting for thepakhanand his wife, but this isn’t a honeymoon suite.
I’m pretty sure it’s about to be a torture chamber.
Viktor closes the doors behind us with a heavythud, the click of the lock sending a chill over my skin. I stand in the center of the room uncertainly, my back to him, my fingers trembling despite the warmth. I know he’s waiting for me to turn around, but I’m going to make him command me. I’m going to make him drag every single bit of obedience out of me, because fuck it. If I’m already in trouble, I might as well go all the fucking way.
I don’t think meekness is going to save me now.
“Turn around, Caterina,” Viktor finally barks, his voice cold and harsh. I don’t hesitate, but I obey slowly, turning until I’m looking at my husband, my leather flats scraping against the wooden floor. He doesn’t look like the man who pretended to care for me so tenderly in the cabin safe house. He’s not wearing jeans and a rolled-up flannel now, his hair loose and messy around his face. There’s no kindness in his eyes. He’s dressed the way he always did back home, in an expensive, tailored suit with the jacket off and no tie, his hair styled back smoothly, his face expressionless. The only emotion I see is in his eyes, and the anger is evident there, as well as how hard he’s working to hold it back. That terrifies me most of all because I have no idea if he intends to unleash all of that carefully controlled rage on me or keep some of his control.
“Eyes down,” he barks, taking a step towards me and then another. “It’s time you learn your place, Caterina, and how a wife should behave with her husband. You’ve lost every privilege that you’ve ever had with me. In time, perhaps, you can earn them back.”
I drop my gaze instantly, biting my lower lip. I don’t want to let him see my fear, but I can feel my panic rising bit by bit as he speaks. I don’t think Viktor will hurt me the way Andrei and Stepan did, but he can hurt me in other ways—and even then, I’m not entirely certain that he won’t. It’s become clear that I know this man even less than I thought I did, and I’m terrified of what more there is to find out.
“Very good,” he says, his voice curling around me like smoke, thick and seductive and deadly. “You’re obeying. That’s a good start. This will be easier on you if you obey.”
That shouldn’t send a thrill through me. It shouldn’t make my fingers tingle for reasons that have nothing to do with the fear quivering in my stomach. It shouldn’t make my heart speed up a little, my pulse leaping into my throat. I shouldn’t want to hear Viktor tell me toobey, but something dark and deviant inside of me thrills to the sound of my husband’s thickly accented voice ordering me, here in the rich trappings of our bedroom in this secluded Russian castle.
“Let’s see if you can obey this well in all things. On your knees, Caterina. On your knees for your master.”
Master.He’s never called himself that before, and I feel that dark thrill again, something foreign sparking in my blood and making my cheeks flush. Nothing about that should turn me on, but as I sink to my knees, feeling the thick tapestry of the rug through the thin cashmere of my dress, my heart speeds up another notch.
“Very good.” Viktor steps closer, and I can see when I look up from under my lashes that he’s undoing the cuffs of his shirtsleeves, slowly and methodically. My pulse beats against my throat as he starts to roll up those sleeves, just as slowly, until the crisp white fabric is above his elbows.
He clasps his hands in front of himself, looking down at me. “Do you know what’s going to happen now, Caterina?”
“No,” I whisper, and that’s somewhat true. I know he’s going to punish me, but I have no idea how or in what way. I don’t want to speak any of my darkest fears aloud and give him ideas if he hasn’t thought of them already.
“You’re going to be punished for running away.” His voice is rich, almost seductive, as if this is a pleasure for him.What am I thinking?Of course it’s a pleasure for him. He’s taken pleasure in punishing me before when he spanked me at my home after he’d thought I’d run off with the girls. I wonder if this will be better or worse, if he’ll be more or less angry that I ran off on my own, instead of with his children as he’d thought.
From the look on his face when his men dragged me back, I don’t think he’s going to be less angry. Maybe just as angry but in a different way.
“What do you think your punishment should be?” Viktor asks casually, still looking down at me. “What kind of punishment is appropriate for a wayward wife who humiliates her husband in front of all of his men?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” I say quietly, trying to keep any hint of defiance out of my voice. I want to yell at him, accuse him, tell him that he’s a fucking monster, but I don’t dare make this worse than it’s already going to be. My hands are trembling, knotted in my lap, and although it takes everything in me to speak to him in a way that might mollify him just a little, I know that’s my best chance of making it out of this in one piece.
“I meant it when I said I might lock you in a room naked,” Viktor says thoughtfully. “Many men would do far worse. I could give you to my men for a night since you’re so eager to leave my side. I’m sure once they were done with you, you’d be grateful to return to my tender mercies. Or I could keep you in one of the towers, caged even, like the pretty bird that you are.” He reaches down, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I shiver when his fingers touch my cheek. I don’t want the touch to send electricity over my skin. I don’t want the shudder to be one of pleasure or for his touch to make my heart beat faster in my chest for reasons that have nothing to do with fear.