Chapter 9

Nine

When Seamus called and told me Nikita had let two strange men into her apartment, I had been annoyed. Then he told me how she kissed each of their cheeks, and I saw red.

I told her that we would be faithful to one another. I will not stand for her taking other men into her home or her body. It didn't matter that I had Callum's voice in the back of my head reminding me the girl was probably lonely. I won't stand for it.

I dropped what I was doing and ran to her place to put a stop to it. I didn't expect to find them all at the kitchen table. The men weren't what I expected either. My first thought was that they were pretty boys and wouldn't know how to handle a woman, especially one like Nikita. They looked like they wouldn't be able to find a clit even with a roadmap, let alone a G-spot. My second thought was that they were awfully far away from her to be doing anything nefarious.

"Are you even listening to me?" Nikita snaps, pulling me out of my head.

"No, I wasn't," I tell her honestly.

Nikita growls as she runs her hands through her hair. "You drive me mad."

My breath catches as I study the woman in front of me. This is the first time I've ever seen her show any emotion whatsoever. I don't even think she realizes that she isn't keeping her face blank or staying calm like she usually does. It's almost as if I'm seeing her for the first time, and I hate to admit it, but I like what I'm seeing.

I shake my head. "Right back at you. Now tell me, what were those two men doing here? Were you really going to fuck them in my building?"

"Like I already told you, I invited them over to get your attention. They are gay, or did you not catch that? We were playing cards for fuck's sake," she snaps.

Is she serious right now?

I run my hand through my hair in frustration. "You invited them to get my attention? Why?"

Nikita's eyes widen as she spews, "I don't know, maybe because I wanted to see my husband? I don't even have a way to contact you."

"You can tell any of my men you need me and they would get me. You didn't have to go to such drastic measures."

Nikita scoffs. "Sure. I'll do that next time since our marriage is only on paper. It's not real, right? Well, I hate to tell you, Declan, but you sending me gifts says otherwise. Honestly, you have me so fucking confused I don't even know if I could find my way out of a wet paper bag. If you don't want me to hope for more, then you need to fucking stop with the damn gifts. Stop playing with me."

With each word she speaks, my body tenses. Someone has been sending my wife gifts. It's not me.

I hold up my hand and cut her off. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Huh?"

"Gifts. What gifts are you talking about, Nikita?"

Her brows furrow. "Don't play dumb with me, Declan, especially when no one is around. The chocolate, the flowers…" She trails off when she sees my face.

"Nikita, I haven't sent you anything. At all."

"Yes, you have. Stop denying it." She is losing her bravado.

She really thought it was me. Fuck, no wonder she's been acting out. Callum was right. She wanted my attention, but only because she thought I was playing with her. God, this is a mess.

"I'm serious, Nikita. It's not me," I tell her calmly.

I watch as a range of emotions flies across her face, and it's fascinating.

"Then if it's not you, then who…" She trails off as she looks off into space over my shoulder.

"An ex?"

She shakes her head, still not looking at me. "No."

"Are you sure?" I press.

The corner of her eye twitches before she looks back at me and looks me right in the eye.

"Considering I would have to have an ex for him to be a suspect, I'm sure."

Wait, what? She doesn't even have an ex? Has she never dated anyone?

I open my mouth to ask but shake my head. Now is not the time.

"When did you start getting the gifts?"

"Right after our wedding. That's why I thought it was you," she says as she rubs her arms.

A month. An entire fucking month someone has been fucking with her.

"And you have no idea who it could be?"

"No…" She bites her lip. "Would Haruaki do it? Just to fuck with us?"

I start shaking my head before she can even finish the sentence. "No, trust me, that's not his style. The only person he would send a gift to is his wife."

"I-I don't like this…"

"Did anything come with a card?"

Nikita nods. "Stay."

"I'm not a dog," I mumble under my breath as she leaves the room.

While she's gone, I turn and study her apartment. The layout is similar to mine, but yet it feels completely different. Her furniture is gray, but she has jewel-toned pops of color throughout the room. She even has art on the wall. It's not what I would have pictured for her.

Today's full of surprises it seems.

"Here."

I turn and see Nikita walking toward me, holding out a stack of cards.

You're beautiful.

I can't wait to get to know you.

I can't wait to see your hair spread out on my sheets while I fuck you.

Happy one-month anniversary.

On and on the messages go.

Ten.

She's received ten gifts from some fucking creep. They range from sweet to sexual. No wonder she thought they were from me. They all seem like messages a husband would send his wife, and I don't like it.

"I'll let you know what I find, but in the meantime, stay here and don't let anyone but me in," I say as I start moving toward the door.

"Where in the hell are you going?" Nikita demands.

I turn, facing her, and hold up the cards. "I'm going to go call all of these places and see if I can find out who's behind this."

Nikita crosses her arms over her chest and cocks her hip out. "And you have to do that right now? We haven't finished our discussion."

"Yes, now stay put. I'll be back later, and we can talk."

"I'm not some princess you can lock up in a tower, Declan."

I look over my shoulder as I walk. "No, you're my wife and some asshole is sending you shit. I need to deal with this, then I'll handle you."

"Handle me? What the fuck does that mean?" she yells as I shut the door behind me.

I hear something hit the door and break. Damn, who knew that she had all that fire, just hiding under the surface?

In a daze,I go back to the kitchen table and take a seat. I hate to admit it, but I'm slightly shaken up over what just transpired.

I knew Declan would come running as soon as he heard I had two men in the apartment, only I didn't expect him to touch me. I expected him to storm in here like a possessive male ready to defend his woman's honor, but not pull me into his arms as if he was staking his claim right then and there.

It made my stomach flip.

Then, as soon as he kicked the guys out of my place, everything went sideways. I lost my cool, and it pisses me off. I never show my hand, yet Declan made me give it up so easily tonight.

Is he really not the one who was sending me those gifts?

I run my hand through my hair and blow out a breath. I can't see him lying about something like this. Hell, his face gave him away. He was genuinely confused and then angry on my behalf.

I was honest with him when I told him I didn't know who could be behind it other than him. I've never dated and I was clearly a virgin on our wedding night, so it can't be an ex-lover.

There was once a guard back in Russia who was interested in dating me, but last I heard, he was happily married with a child on the way.

Did my father promise my hand to someone and I just don't know?

The idea makes me pause.

It sounds like something he would do. Stick me here in exile until he's ready for me to come home, only to marry me off to the first available man so he won't have to deal with me.

That has to be it.

Pushing off the counter, I run into my bedroom. I grab my phone off the nightstand and unplug it. Swiping the screen, I go to my contacts to call Declan. Only how can I do that when I don't have his number?

Groaning, I toss myself onto my bed.

This isn't how I saw today going.

How do I get a message to Declan?

I could track down one of the guards in the building. I cringe at the thought. I really don't want to face any of them right now. God, they must think I'm a whore for inviting two men inside while Declan is gone.

Then again, they should know that the marriage is fake. For fuck's sake, we live separately.

I could always leave a note on his door, asking him to call me.

Rolling off the bed, I get up and head back to the kitchen. I open a drawer, looking for a pen and a piece of paper. I find a pen right away, but the only paper I have is an old, crumpled receipt.

Good enough.

On the blank side, I write him a quick note.

I have an idea of who could be behind it. Call me.

555-555-5555

-Nikita

I drop the pen on the counter and grab the tape roll from the drawer. I walk to the door and step outside. Walking across the hall, I tape the note to his door.

There.

Heading back into my apartment, I take the time and lock the door behind me.

Now what?

Nervous energy takes over my body. If I don't get this under control, I'll end up nervously pacing and biting my nails until Declan gets back to me.

Heading into the kitchen, an idea starts to form in my mind. I pull out the most expensive thing I own, a stand mixer, and all the ingredients to make bread. When I was younger, I had a nanny who loved being in the kitchen, and she passed that love to me. There's just something about baking that sets my mind at ease. Maybe it's because you need to follow a recipe to an exact T or it can go wrong. I don't know, but I love it.

I open a package of yeast and pour warm water over it to activate it. While the yeast does its thing, I measure out my salt, sugar, flour, milk, and butter. Mindlessly, I add the egg and dump everything into the mixing bowl before putting it under the mixer. While the dough hook kneads the dough, I turn on the proofing feature on the oven. After the mixer is done doing its thing, I transfer the dough into a heat-safe bowl and cover it before popping it in the oven.

With that done, I start to clean up the kitchen. My biggest pet peeve is a dirty workspace. How someone doesn't clean as they go is beyond me.

"Okay, what now?" I sigh as I wipe off the counter.

My mind has started to calm, but I'm still feeling antsy.

I just need him to call me or, hell, even text.

I go to pull out my phone only to realize I didn't slip it into my pocket.

"Shit…" I mutter as I head toward my bedroom.

Maybe he already tried and I just missed it.

Sure enough, as soon as I step into my bedroom, I see my phone on the bed. Grabbing it, I wake up the screen and see a text from a number I don't know.

My heart starts beating wildly in my chest. Logically, I know it's Declan. But what if it's not? What if it's whoever's watching me?

"Knock it off, Nikita." I scold myself as I open the message.

Unknown: Who do you think it is?

I sigh, my shoulders relaxing as I text him back.

Me: Hey, after you left, I really thought about it. Did you ever reach out to my father to let him know we were getting married?

Declan: I know our family never reached out but the Yakuza might have. Why?

Me: What if my father still doesn't know that we're married, and he's promised my hand to another? What if it's a suitor…

Declan: I'll look into it.

Me: Okay.

Declan: Next time, make sure you respond immediately. I don't like waiting.

I roll my eyes at the message. Of course he doesn't. Right as I finish adding his contact to my phone, the timer goes off, letting me know the dough is proofed.

Good, it looks like I can take my frustration with Declan out on some dough.