My body tenses.
The back of my throat feels dry and sandpaper-like.
Everything heightens.
My nostrils flood with Karina’s lavender perfume and the metallic stench of blood.
My ears fill with a shrill sound, as if I’m standing in the aftermath of a bomb.
It dawns on me then.
This is my fight-or-flight response.
I should go for the latter, but why are my fingers twitching to reach for my gun and put a bullet in her head?
It’s not her you should shoot, it’s the stupid asshole you couldn’t kill.
It’s not her fault that he chose her over you.
Both of those are legitimate arguments, but does my bleeding heart listen? Absolutely not.
In fact, I find myself illogically comparing myself to her. Where she’s wearing an elegant dark red dress and has her hair styled to perfection, I’m in a stupid combat uniform, and my hair is held so tight, my scalp hurts.
Where she’s wearing natural-looking makeup and soft pink lipstick, I’m makeup-free, and my lips are chapped and dry.
We might both be women, but we’re in different leagues.
I bet she can’t shoot a gun to save her life, though. So there’s that.
Kristina watches me peculiarly as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. She must be wondering why Kirill’s guard is now a woman.
Or maybe she’s heard about me. Did she feel any of the fire that’s been eating me from the inside out when she saw that ring on his finger?
Though that unfeeling asshole Kirill could’ve gotten identical rings, and the one he’s wearing could have her name engraved within.
Karina pulls away from me, and I don’t know if it’s because Kristina called her name or because she felt me tense against her.
Is it wrong that I feel a bit vindictive that Kristina is on a diminutive form level with Karina? I thought she didn’t make friends easily and I was her only one. But like her damn brother, she didn’t seem to have any trouble quickly replacing me.
Karina grabs her by the arm and grins at me. “Sasha, this is my new sister-in-law, Kris!”
My stomach falls, and I try to swallow, but it’s blocked by the ball stuck in my throat. I side-eye the fucking liar Kirill, who’s casually leaning against a pillar, ankles crossed and a knowing smirk painting his lips.
Only wife, my ass.
I can’t believe the level he was willing to drop to just to get what he wanted.
“Also, also!” Karina pats Kristina’s stomach. “She’s carrying my baby niece.”
A blush covers Kristina’s cheeks. “We still don’t know the gender, Kara.”
“Don’t care. I only accept baby girls. I already started shopping for pink.”
Did…I hear that correctly?
Is Kristina pregnant? Already?
Nausea explodes at the back of my throat, and I physically shudder.
I think I’m going to throw up.
“Oh, Kirill.” Kristina walks up to him. “You look pale, and your bandage is all soaked with blood. Shouldn’t you see the doctor?”
She places her hand on his arm, and I think I’m losing the battle, because I’m already reaching for my gun.
Stop touching him.
Or I’m really going to kill him now.
I’ll make your damn child fatherless before it’s born.
“Don’t worry about him.” Karina scoffs. “He’s like a cat with nine lives who refuses to die already.”
“Kara!” Kristina scoffs softly.
She still has her hand on his arm.
Stop touching him.
Stop fucking touching him—
My thoughts come to a halt when Kirill’s lips slowly tug in a smirk. He slides his gaze to my hand that’s on my waistband. I hate that he knows exactly what I’m going to do.
I hate that he can read me this easily, and there’s nothing I can do to stop that from happening.
“At least you have the courtesy to worry about me, dear sister-in-law.” His brows draw together. “My actual wife is heartless and couldn’t care less whether I live or die.”
What…?
Sister-in-law?
“What the fuck happened to you?” Konstantin walks in from the entrance and stops at the view of Kirill bleeding and barely standing.
He holds Kristina by the waist and kisses the top of her head.
“A little dispute,” Kirill says in his usual provocative yet amused voice.
My mouth is open, and my hand drops from the back of my pants.
It’s safe to say I don’t have the slightest clue about what the hell is going on here.
“Sasha.” Konstantin grins with contagious happiness. “You’re alive.”
“Sort of,” I whisper.
“And I was wondering why Kirill didn’t have demons whirling around him by the dozens.” He walks toward me and pats my shoulder. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.” I stare between him and Kristina. “Are you guys…married?”
“Yeah.” They look at each other with a deep sense of affection that slices my heart open. Probably because I used to give Kirill that naïve look before he stabbed me in the back.
“Wasn’t Kristina…supposed to marry Kirill?”
“He plotted that whole thing to bring us together,” Kristina says softly and looks at Kirill with deep gratitude.
Someone is actually grateful to the monster.
I must’ve landed in an alternative reality.
And yet I can’t help the sense of relief that washes through me at the knowledge that he never married her. She’s not pregnant with his child, and she loves his brother.
The asshole knew this all along, but he still enjoyed playing with my emotions. It’s probably a test of sorts for him.
It’s always a test with Kirill.
Everyone and everything is.
“Congratulations.” My low voice carries in the entrance, and it actually sounds as if I’m being honest.
And I am.
I just don’t know what to make of the situation anymore. All this time, I’ve held on to the sense of his betrayal as fuel for my hatred.
Every night, I’ve dreamed about him at that altar with Kristina. I’ve had nightmares about their happy lives together after I was out of the picture.
But now that I’m seeing for myself that they were never a couple, I have no clue how to keep my hatred and rage at the same level.
A significant amount has been purged from my system, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to restore it in the foreseeable future.
“Kirill!” Konstantin leaves his wife’s side and catches his brother just before he falls to the ground.
I lunge forward but only manage to stop myself a few steps in. Yes, old habits die hard, but why the hell do I still view myself as his protector?
Even after I put a bullet in his arm?
Konstantin holds his unconscious body upright with difficulty. Karina jogs to them, her expression morphing from contempt to worry in no time.
Kirill’s face is pale, and his lips are changing color. Not only that, but the blood has also soaked the bandage and is dripping on the floor.
An illogical part of me is uncomfortable, and I’m not sure if it’s due to Kirill losing consciousness or the fact that I’m the reason behind the scene in front of me.
I release a long breath.
No. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m just not.
The only reason I’m here is to save my brother.
Once that’s done, I’ll leave Kirill in a heartbeat.
While Kirill is getting treated in the clinic, I go to search for my brother in the basement where Kirill usually keeps the prisoners.
My hands shake when I pass by the room in which we got married.
The room was both my nightmare during that captivity period but also the place for the happiest time of my life.
I keep searching, but the entire basement is empty. There’s no trace of Anton, or anyone else, for that matter.
If Viktor isn’t here, then my brother isn’t here either.
I know there’s a warehouse where Kirill prefers to torture people for answers, but since I’m aware of its location, I doubt he took him there, either.
God forbid the control freak miss any detail. When I go back upstairs, I expect to find Karina since she refused to go to the clinic with Konstantin and Kristina despite having a trembling chin.
However, the person who greets me is none other than Anna. She’s carrying a stack of clothes and standing near the stairs as if she was waiting for me.
It hasn’t been that long since I last saw her, but she’s gained a few wrinkles, and her eyes have lost some of the sharp gleam that was a massive part of her personality.
“Hi, Anna,” I say slowly.
“Don’t hi me, young lady.” She pushes the clothes into my hand. “Here are some of Mrs. Kristina’s clothes that she asked me to give you. She figured you’re closer to her in height and body type than Miss Karina.”
My fingers tighten around the clothes. “Thanks.”
I guess that means Kristina is the one who alerted her about my arrival.
Anna reaches into her apron pocket and retrieves a key. “This is for Kirill’s master bedroom. He’s kept it locked for two months and only gave me the key so I could oversee the cleaning.”
He…kept his room closed for two months?
She places the key on top of the clothes. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he better not turn back into whatever bloodthirsty demon he was after you left.”
“What…do you mean?”
“For the first month, he came home soaked with blood. Every single night. Viktor said he was looking for the one responsible for your death and that he was even killing anyone who proved to be useless in his search. Every night, he’d stop in front of his room, touch the door, and then go to his new room. Every night, I had to throw away bloodied clothes because there was no way of salvaging them.”
My fingers tighten around the clothes. On one hand, Anna has no reason to lie. In fact, she’s honest to the point of being blunt and doesn’t stoop to lying.
But on the other hand, I can’t possibly trust Kirill again. Maybe he did those things for an entirely different reason than the obvious.
Anna hikes a hand on her hip. “Today better be the last day I get a new batch of bloodied clothes.”
“I don’t think I can control Kirill’s mood and decisions.”
“You’re the only one who can, you naïve child.”
I try not to be affected by that and fail miserably. So I rush to change the subject. “Are you going to ask why I was pretended to be a man?”
“I assumed it had something to do with your security. Which is also why Kirill kept it a secret as well.”
“You…knew?”
“I suspected it after seeing you in his bed multiple times. I suspected maybe he swung in the other direction, but…well, there was no other evidence to back that theory.”
“Oh.” So all that time, Anna was turning a blind eye and pretending not to notice.
“Go take a shower and clean up all that blood. I’ll send you some food in a bit.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
“Welcome back, Sasha.” She pats my shoulder. “Both the house and Kirill were unbearably grim without you.”
My chest swells, and I resist the urge to blurt something stupid like, ‘Really?’
I head to the room with heavy steps. I stop in front of the door, and I have to take a few shaky breaths before I turn the key in the lock.
When I go inside, I’m hit by multiple emotions. Everything is exactly as I left it, only there isn’t one of Kirill’s jackets scattered around or my chest bandages thrown on some surface.
The smell is weird, though. It doesn’t smell of us anymore.
I curse to myself. Why the hell would I want it to smell like us?
I storm to the bathroom, take off my clothes, and go into the shower. As I stand beneath the stream of water, images of other activities I did in this same shower slip into my mind, and I have to close my eyes.
But that doesn’t stop the erotic pictures from playing again and again, as if taunting my sexually frustrated body.
With a groan, I turn off the handle, hastily dry myself, and put on the new underwear Kristina gave me, moaning out loud when I accidentally rub my nails on a hard nipple.
Shit. What’s with them being so sensitive? Is it because I’m back here when I thought I never would be?
After regaining my breathing, I put on the soft checkered nightshirt. It’s tight on the hips, but it’s good enough.
I go back into the bedroom and find a tray of food on the coffee table. My stomach growls, and I drink some soup and then eat some fish as I send my uncle a text.
Mission failed. Anton has been captured. I’m staying here until I can bring him home safely. Please don’t interfere while I get this resolved.
I don’t know if he, and especially Babushka, will agree to that. She looks at Anton as if he’s the answer to all her prayers.
But they need to understand that I’m the only one who can save Anton. Knowing Kirill, he’ll make sure of that.
After I finish eating, I yawn.
Today was such a long day. Probably one of the worst I’ve ever had.
My brother is being held captive God knows where.
I can’t leave for three months.
And most importantly, I’ve realized with bitter irony that I can’t kill Kirill. In fact, a part of me is revolting at the fact that I shot him in the first place.
It’s the stupid, loyal, naïve part that completely lost it when I saw him at the bottom of that hill with a gash in his chest.
I guess I’ll never forget that scene, no matter how much I try or how long it’s been.
With another yawn, I lie on the bed and close my eyes. I’ll just rest for a minute, and then I’ll look for my brother.
Only a minute…
A strong arm wraps around me, and warmth spoons me from behind. It’s a nightmare, I realize.
No, a dream.
The presence behind me doesn’t feel threatening in the least. In fact, I lean into his touch, a soft moan leaving my lips.
I like the Kirill from my dreams. He doesn’t talk and only allows me to use him as comfort against the haunting nightmares.
They don’t come when he’s cuddling me like this.
They don’t interfere with this small fantasy I’ve been pretending I don’t like.
But then the supposedly dream-like Kirill slips what feels like a ring on my finger and whispers in my ear, “Welcome home, Solnyshko.”
