32. Max

What the fuck just happened? I'm clueless. One minute Natalya is lying in my arms, sated and happy, and the next, she reacts like I've just shown her my creepy doll collection. And no, I don't have one. Just in case you're wondering.

To my intense confusion, she dashes into the bathroom and closes the door. The lock engages and then the shower turns on.

For a long moment, I lie in the ruins of my bed, scratching my head and going over everything I said and did in the last ten minutes. Nothing makes sense.

Then my phone rings. It's Sasha. I grab it, quickly pull some pants on, and stride into the living room. Fuck me, I need coffee. All my good vibes from last night and this morning have vanished and now I just feel exhausted.

It turns out emotions are bad news.

For me at least.

I have no fucking clue how Artem survives his pregnant wife's tantrums. Dealing with a moody woman's mood swings is giving me a migraine.

"What?" I bark when I finally answer Sasha's call, more obnoxiously than usual, although Sasha should know better than to bug me this early.

He huffs. "What's eating you? You're not normally this grumpy after getting laid."

"Fucking women," I mutter without meaning to.

"Oh… I see… trouble in paradise already?" There's a faint snigger, which makes me want to rip his head off and post it on a spike for the crows to peck at.

"Nope. Just… I really don't get women." This is why I prefer to keep things casual. It's so much easier and less stressful.

Sasha shorts with amusement. "Go on, spill."

I tell him about how Natalya ran off into the bathroom and locked the door. He sighs loudly.

"You really don't get it?"

"No!" Jesus. If I got it, then I wouldn't be oversharing all this with him. It's not like he's sympathetic.

"You told her she wasn't allowed to leave."

"And?" Of course she's not allowed to leave without me. She's been attacked once already, and there is a strong possibility the mayor is gunning for her. What kind of asshole would I be if I let her go home without an escort?

"Think about it, dickhead." Sasha is skating on thin ice here. I don't appreciate my second calling me a dickhead.

"You better think carefully before any more insults fall from your fucking mouth, Aleksander!"

From the vague muttering I can hear, he's pulled the phone away from his ear and is now cursing me in fluent Russian. Well fuck him. This is why I don't go to my men for relationship advice. They're all assholes.

"Let me put it in words you might understand," he grits out. "The woman was in an abusive relationship when you first met her. Men like that are controlling. You telling her she can't leave, even though I'm sure you meant it in a caring way, will have triggered her."

His words sink in. Fuck. He's right. I feel like punching myself in the face right now. No wonder she's hiding from me. She probably thinks I'm a monster.

I am, but not to her. Natalya has nothing to worry about. I will never hurt a hair on her head.

"OK, makes sense," I admit, begrudgingly.

"Thought you might think that," he says in a smug tone. "You better explain your reasoning to her before she runs away and never talks to you again. Although, it might be better for her if she does."

"Sasha, was there a reason why you called? Or did you just feel like insulting me?" Any more shit from him and he's on cleanup duty next time we torture someone for information.

"Yeah. We got the results back from the lab. The van was clean inside but my guys pulled a print off the exterior. It matches a guy called Stefan Lublik. He's got a record. Mostly petty stuff, but he's a known associate of Oskar Tallin, who runs a gang out of Fier.

"Small fry then." Why would some low-life career criminal be involved in a hit on my operation? It makes no sense.

"Yes, but I've done some digging and it looks like this gang is now affiliated with Uriov's enterprise.

That sounds ominous. "If Uriov is pulling some of the smaller gangs into his sphere, he must be looking to expand his operation."

"It's looking that way," Sasha agrees.

"See if you can find a location for this Stefan guy, so we can pick him up and ask him some questions."

I end the call just as Natalya appears, wearing the dress she wore last night. I smirk when I remember I still have her panties in my jacket pocket. Her hair is damp and tangled. I make a mental note to purchase some supplies for her, so she has everything she needs when she stays here.

"I'll get going now," she says, picking up her clutch and gripping it tightly. Her shoes are tucked away in the hallway, but I can see her scanning the floor for them.

"Sit down, malyshka. Let me cook you some breakfast." I'm going to do everything in my power to keep her here for a bit longer. Mostly for my own selfish reasons. Besides, it's Saturday so she needs to relax.

Natalya ignores me and wanders into the hall looking for her shoes. Her phone pings several times but she doesn't check it. No doubt it's her friends making sure she's OK.

"Malyshka!" She freezes like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Goddamn it. Sasha is right. My malyshka is still scarred from that fucking asshole. If I see him again I will end him for what he's done to her.

Forcing the rage down because the last thing I need is to frighten her some more, I exhale and relax my shoulders.

"Baby, I will take you home once you've eaten something and I've had a shower."

She looks up cautiously. "You will?"

Taking the opportunity to move closer, I smile. "Yes, of course I will. That's all I meant earlier. What kind of asshole would I be if I let you leave without feeding you, eh?"

She tenses a little when I slip my arm around her waist, but I don't miss the way she drinks in my bare chest. Despite how skittish she is, I know she wants me. Almost as much as I want her.