6. Bianca

6

BIANCA

Despite the plush bed and silk sheets, my sleep brings little relief to my racing thoughts. I wake multiple times, confused about where I am. Then when I realize, the events of the previous day come flooding back, and I’m left feeling empty and alone despite Alexei being in the next room.

It’s likely he didn’t bother getting a separate room for fear I might make a run for it in the middle of the night. But realistically, where would I go? My studio? Zara’s apartment?

I almost laugh at the thought of turning up at Zara’s place in the middle of the night, informing her that I’m on the run from my new husband who also happens to be the head of one of the most powerful crime families in the city.

She’d think I had drunk a bottle of tequila, and from the pounding in my head, so would I.

Eventually, I must fall asleep as I wake to the sun starting to peek in through the curtains and a huge shadow cast over my bed.

“Morning, solnyshka .” Alexei chuckles .

I groan, throwing the covers over my head. “You’ve got one hour to eat breakfast and shower before we leave for our new marital home.”

“Can’t wait,” I mutter, wincing as my head pounds.

“I took the liberty of ordering you some food. It should be here by the time you’re done showering.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” I throw down the covers. glaring at a very fresh-faced Alexei.

He’s wearing a fresh white shirt and dark chinos, and a waft of his musky cologne hits my nose as I sit up.

“What time is it?”

“Six thirty.”

“Oh, hell no,” I groan, falling back against the covers.

“Welcome to the life of a Koslov.” Alexei chuckles. “Enjoy your shower.”

“Asshole,” I mutter.

Standing beneath the waterfall shower, my thoughts are plagued with memories of last night. How I practically begged Alexei Koslov to fuck me, and how he turned me down.

I run my hands over my face, mortified at how I acted.

And now I’m expected to live with the guy?

Whoever I pissed off in a former life must be having a hell of a good laugh at my expense.

The shower does little to clear the fog in my head, and when I eventually look in the mirror to brush my hair and teeth, I cringe at the slight grayish tone of my skin.

Drinking near enough two bottles of champagne on an empty stomach will do that to you. It’s a wonder I didn’t spend my wedding night with my head buried in the toilet bowl.

I do my best to make myself look somewhat presentable before emerging from the bedroom, wearing a pair of denim shorts and a tank top along with my red converse.

As I cross the living room to where Alexei is perched on the couch, my heart starts racing faster and my hands start sweating.

Yesterday felt like a game, a simulation, but now reality is starting to set in.

I’m married to Alexei Koslov.

My knees threaten to buckle beneath me, and I manage to grab hold of the back of the couch to steady myself.

Alexei glances over his shoulder, getting to his feet as he eyes the look on my face.

“Bianca?”

A knock sounds at the door, causing Alexei to curse under his breath.

“I’m fine.” I close my eyes for a moment as I fight through the sudden feeling of nausea brought on by alcohol and fear.

Alexei hesitates for a moment before going to the door to collect our room service. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafts into the room as the hotel staff wheels the tray inside, and I groan.

“Perhaps we should skip breakfast and hit the road.” He turns the staff away and closes the door.

“Unless you want the inside of your car to look like a toilet bowl, I think that’s wise.”

He chuckles softly under his breath. “You can sleep on the ride over to the house, I promise.”

He lifts one of the tray covers to steal a piece of bacon.

“And where exactly is my new house?” I maneuver to perch on the edge of the couch arm.

“Forest Hills.”

“Where? ”

“In Queens.”

I choke on a laugh.

“Of course, it is.”

My heartbeat is ringing in my ears, and my chest is so tight it hurts to take a full breath.

I swallow, my throat scratchy and raw, but I ignore it. Ignore all the feelings that are coursing through my body, all the needs that I’m neglecting. Especially the one that I so badly wanted Alexei to fulfill last night.

That cannot happen again. I can’t afford to let my guard down for one second around this man, no matter how many times he says he’s going to protect me at all costs.

I fall asleep in the backseat of Alexei’s Range Rover if only to stop myself from saying anything else I might regret.

He informs me that the drive will only take half an hour if we don’t hit any traffic.

Why the hell did he wake me so early, then?

But the short power nap does rejuvenate me a little so that by the time we’re pulling up outside his ridiculously huge mansion, which backs onto the Forest Hills park, I’m in a better mood to appreciate my new home.

“It’s just you that lives here?” I climb out of the car, choosing to ignore the fact that Alexei opened my door. I crane my neck as I take in the house.

The property is stunning, with windows that span over all three stories, thick pillars on either side of the double front door that must be almost twice Alexei’s height, as well as expansive grounds that surround the house.

“It’s my family’s main residence in New York, but my three brothers often choose to stay at our penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side. I’ve told them to stay away from here for a few days at least so as not to… overwhelm you.”

“Ah, yes, because meeting new brothers-in-law really can tip a girl over the edge.”

Alexei ignores my comment, and I frown as he guides me up the front steps to the house. He seems less playful than he did yesterday, or was that side of him merely a ruse to help ease me into the idea of marrying him?

I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the lump in my throat as I watch the man I was forced to marry open up the front door to our new home.

He stands to the side, holding the door for me as I cross the threshold, and his rich musky scent hits me as I brush past him.

My breath catches, but I quickly distract myself by taking in the expansive foyer of my new house.

“It’s… It’s…” I have no words as I glance around, taking in the rich mahogany detailing, the dark jewel tone colors of the walls.

I’m no stranger to wealth, my father isn’t exactly short of money, but the Koslovs are on a whole new level of wealth.

My mouth hangs ajar.

This is my new home.

“I have a more old-fashioned eye when it comes to interior design.” Alexei moves to my side.

I try to ignore the fact he’s standing so close, the rich sandalwood scent that hits my nose as I take a breath.

“The kitchen and bathrooms are fairly modern, but I prefer a more cozy feeling to the main living spaces.”

“Ah, yes. A three-story mansion screams cozy. ”

Alexei chuckles, the sound sending a shiver racing down my spine and a warmth spreading through my core.

I cough, snapping myself out of my scent-induced trance.

“I have some rules that I want to lay out before we go any further.” I fold my arms across my chest, turning to face my husband.

Alexei’s eyes gleam, but he signals for me to continue.

“I want my own room.”

“Done.”

“And I want free roam of the house.”

Alexei narrows his eyes for a moment but eventually nods.

“You are not a prisoner here, ptichka . This is your home now, but I will add to this rule.”

“Go on.”

“You are not to leave the premises without me knowing, and without security.”

I scoff. “You’re not serious…”

“In case you haven’t realized yet, I don’t take the matter of your safety lightly. So if that makes me the bad guy here, then so be it. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“Fine.” I know there’s no point in fighting him.

In truth, Alexei is starting to remind me a lot of my father. Overprotective alpha male types seem to be a running theme with the men in my life.

“Anything else?” Alexei asks.

“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “I want a place to work on my art.”

Alexei’s brows lift.

“You paint?”

“Amongst other things.” I shrug.

“You’ll have to show me some of your work. ”

I shake my head, fighting a smile. “Only my closest family and friends get to see my work. ‘Strange man who I was forced to marry’ does not fall into either of those two categories.”

“Perhaps I’ll fall into the category of muse.” He flashes me a wink, and I fight the urge to picture him posing nude for me. Nothing but rippling muscle and hard lines.

I swallow, averting my eyes.

“You’re too cocky for my taste.” I fight a smile.

“Really?” He lifts his eyebrows, his dark eyes twinkling. “I didn’t get that impression last night.”

My cheeks heat from the memory. Of Alexei’s lips on mine, of the hardness of his body up close as his fingers dug into my hips.

“W-why don’t you give me a tour?”

The smirk Alexei offers me tells me he knows exactly the sort of thoughts plaguing my mind, but he humors me nonetheless.

I try not to look dumbfounded or starstruck as he takes me around the expansive kitchen, dining room, multiple studies and lounges and many of the bedrooms that his brothers tend to occupy when they visit.

It’s a massive property. It even has a pool, tennis court, a basement, which has its own gym, private garage, and acres of land.

“What’s on the third floor?” I look up the stairs.

“My office, the library?—”

“You have a library?”

Alexei nods, that infuriating smirk gracing his lips.

“Impressed yet, solnyshka ?”

“It’s not bad.” I shrug, not wanting him to know the truth .

Alexei chuckles as we step onto the elevator by the stairs.

“Maybe this will change your mind.”

As we get to the top floor and open the first door on the right, I can’t stop the gasp from escaping my lips as I take in the towering bookcases and plush leather armchairs.

There’s even a fireplace, and suddenly I can see it—evenings spent curled up in one of those chairs, drinking hot chocolate and losing myself in a book.

“What about now. Impressed?”

I lift one shoulder.

“Can I see my room?” I glance over my shoulder at Alexei.

“It’s just down the hall.”

I turn and walk past him, but I pause when I notice the three other doors on this floor. “What else is on this floor?”

“This door—” Alexei moves to the one opposite the library. “—is my study.”

“Another one?”

Alexei ignores my comment, strolling down the hall, his footsteps almost silenced by the dark blue rug that runs the length of it.

“This one—” He pauses at the door on the far left. “—is my room.”

I frown, glancing once at the door and then letting my eyes fall to the one opposite.

“Let me guess… The last one’s my room?”

Alexei grins, and I fight the urge to slam my fist into his chest.

“So many bedrooms, and you had to give me the room opposite yours?”

“Like I keep saying, ptichka , I take your safety very seriously.” He crosses the hall and opens the door to my room .

“And like I keep saying, you’re an asshole .” I don’t hide my groan of frustration as I storm past Alexei and into my room.

I pause, surprised by the pale cream walls and rose-colored detailing. I blink, glancing at the enormous bed which looks like it’s made of marshmallows from the color scheme of the bedding and plush pillows. There’s a large vanity littered with products, a chaise longue, and a large bookcase filled to bursting with books. A cream fluffy rug covers most of the floor, and I itch to slip off my shoes and sink my toes into the soft fabric.

“The door on the right leads to your own private bathroom, which has a jacuzzi tub and waterfall shower, and the door on the left leads to your walk-in closet which I took the liberty of stocking for you.”

“Did you pick out the color scheme too?” I walk over to the bed and run my fingers along the comforter.

“Yes, but you’re welcome to decorate however you want if it’s not to your taste.”

It’s exactly my taste.

“It’ll do, thank you,” I mutter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like some time alone.”

“Of course.”

I glance over my shoulder to find his eyes searching mine.

He seems hesitant to leave, but something on my face makes the decision for him because he offers me a curt nod before closing the door, leaving me alone in my new room.

I perch on the edge of the bed, glancing around my room with nothing but a growing sense of dread in the pit of my stomach for company.

“How the fuck did I end up here?”