And with that, Kai releases my hand and steps out of the office.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Vlad is in my face. “Why the fuck did you let him escape?”
I sit down and continue drinking from my coffee even though it’s turned cold. “Because he was useless.”
“Useless? You had to feign amnesia for useless?”
“I overestimated the information he has. Turns out it holds no value to us.”
“We get to decide that after we torture him. Besides, since he obviously kept things from the Vory, he deserves death.”
That asshole has too many enemies to count. Vlad would be the first person to shoot Kyle in the face if he got the chance. Damien, Mikhail, and even Kirill would follow. None of them actually like him because he rose in the ranks so fast and didn’t work hard enough like the rest of them.
And while Kyle’s sin—the fact that he plotted the brotherhood’s demise—is punishable by the worst form of death, I just couldn’t do it or let anyone else do it for me.
The breaking of my heart that I heard earlier is still resonating in my chest like an echo. Even though I tried to ignore it during the afternoon, now all I want to do is curl up in a ball in a dark place and stay there.
“Just let him go, Vlad.”
“I can’t just let the motherfucker go. He needs to pay in blood.”
“Have you forgotten that he’s still my husband?”
“That doesn’t make him untouchable.”
“No, but if everyone else finds out he’s a traitor, it’ll reflect badly on me. Kirill and Mikhail are already plotting my fall, and if I give them this chance, they won’t hesitate to chop my head off. So…just let it go. For my sake, Vlad.”
His lips twist and I’m sure he has a thousand objections, but I played the card he can’t refuse—me. It’s a low blow, but it was the only way he’d ever agree. Besides, none of what I said is a lie.
“Fine, but if he shows up again, I’ll fucking murder him.”
“If he shows up again, I’ll do it myself.”
Vlad gives me an undecipherable glance as if he doesn’t believe me, but leaves it at that.
I leave work late and barely check on Anastasia before my numb feet lead me to my room.
When I open the door, the first thing that hits me is his distinctive scent, and I hate that. I hate that his presence is a breathing being in every corner of the room.
It’s not only about his jacket that’s casually flung on the chair or the masculine traces he left behind. That’s only the beginning of it, because everything in this place reminds me of him.
It reminds me of how he sneaks up on me from behind and picks me up just so he can fuck me on the bed.
Or when I wake up to him either spooning me from behind or eating me out until I scream.
Or when we wrestle to see who gets the upper hand and I end up losing—mostly on purpose—just so he’ll fuck me roughly.
Or when he thrusts toys into me, his gleaming eyes never leaving mine, because we both love the depravity of it.
It hasn’t been a long marriage, but he’s became such an inseparable part of my life. Now that he’s gone, I have no clue how the hell I am going to pick up the pieces.
I wish I really had amnesia so all of this would be easier.
But would it, really?
I don’t bother with a shower or with changing my clothes.
Removing my dress, I kick it and the shoes away and flop on the bed in only my underwear.
Even the damn sheets smell like him, clean and masculine.
It won’t be long before his presence completely vanishes. It’s for the best. I know that, but a tear slides down my cheeks as I close my eyes.
God, it hurts. It’s not supposed to, but I can almost hear my heart shattering to pieces all over again.
The pain is so raw, I gasp for air. It’s like I caught a nasty disease with no cure.
I try telling myself it’ll be better with time, but I said that lie seven years ago and it never worked. If anything, I kept thinking about him day in and day out like an addict.
I hated it.
I hated myself back then.
So why am I repeating it again?
No answer comes to mind, but tears do. They won’t stop, and I fall asleep with my eyes wet and my heart in shreds.
Soft fingers wipe them away before they slide down my body.
I startle, eyes snapping open.
A large shadow looms over me. I scream, but his hand muffles any sound I might make.
I pause as his scent fills my nostrils and seeps into my bones.
Is this a dream or a nightmare? Perhaps it’s both.