24. Mila

24

MILA

T he door slammed shut, and I flinched at the loud bang. Just like that, Alek stormed out of here, leaving me like some thing to ignore. When the going got tough…

Stop. I sighed a watery exhale and wiped my face. Tears smeared a hot trail of liquid over my cheeks, and I loathed that he'd pushed me to lose my composure like this. I never cried, never broke down, no matter how hard life would treat me, but he'd gone too far.

What else can I fucking do?

I shot and killed a man to save him. I chose to marry him and gave up the idea of running to my freedom away from the criminal world we orbited in.

And still, he didn't trust me.

He'd looked at me with such scathing hatred, assuming I was the bad guy out to get him. That I was working on screwing him over like some ultra-secret femme fatale.

I huffed and rolled my eyes. It was so ridiculous that I almost giggled, but I was too upset to loosen up and laugh off his reaction.

I wasn't shocked that he'd be jaded and quick to assume the worst of me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't guessed at my motive. Alek had lived a hard life rife with manipulation and frustration. He wasn't a gentle soul, and he was raised to be a hard asshole. But for fuck's sake, I was too damned confused to understand how he'd switched his moods so suddenly from last night.

Just who did he think I would be spying for? My father who wanted me dead?

I couldn't make sense of it. I'd woken up with a teeny, tenuous thread of hope. As my eyes opened to a new day, I started to think that we were building something real here, something far more than just fucking or arranging power plays.

Now, he was only proving to be just like Andrey or my father, all the other men I'd met in my life—out for himself and never letting anyone in.

Pushing to my feet, I fought for a moment of strength. I was determined to stay positive. Because this was to be expected, right? This was the way my life was destined to play out—as the object of a man's wishes.

As I went to the bathroom and began to clean up and shower, I wondered how much worse Alek might treat me. If he wanted to start the first day of our lives together in a fight, what would it escalate to in the future?

Just as I was warming up to him and enjoying how he could push me and coax me to surrendering to his brand of brutal pleasure, making me feel so pretty and sexy and wanted, not fat or undesirable, he had to change into an asshole again.

After I showered and dried off, I went through his clothes to find the smallest garments that would cover me. I had no clothes. I had nothing and no one here, but I couldn't know when I could expect anything delivered to me.

I may as well be grateful that he forgot to tie me up again. I huffed, irked by my bitter thoughts as I left the bedroom.

I didn't know what to do, but I refused to sit around and wait for him to return. That much idle downtime would wreak havoc on my mind. So, I got up and tried to keep myself as busy as possible. Tidying the apartment felt like I was intruding and invading someone else's space, but I dusted and sorted out the minimal clutter throughout the apartment. When I finished that, dismayed that it had only lasted an hour, I knew I was too antsy to sit again.

Bored and restless with all my thoughts, I moved into the kitchen and checked the contents at hand. I could start on a meal. Lunch was soon, but if he needed more time to stew and put distance between us, it could be dinner. Even if we ended up leaving this place and staying somewhere else, it would be a productive way to while away the minutes or hours until he'd want to return.

Just as I reached into the fridge for the container of chicken in the far back spot on the shelf, I heard the door open.

"How does?—"

Arms wrapped around me, cutting me off from announcing my thoughts about food. The muscled limbs held me tight, but it felt all wrong. He was wrong. This masked intruder didn't smell like my husband, all spicy and clean with his familiar musky scent beneath. He wasn't as tall as my ruggedly fit spouse.

This man was too rough, shoving me against the counter as he wrenched me away from the fridge.

His gloved hand slapped over my mouth, cutting off my scream. Worse, though, was the immediate shove of his other hand. He pushed it under my pants, trying to remove my garments.

"Playing housewife now?" he growled into my ear as he gripped me hard, digging his nails along the upper skin of my thighs.

My pulse skyrocketed with the instant thunder of my heartbeat.

Geoff. I recognized his voice. I recalled that filthy, sinister tone when he'd try to get his way with me. Of all the people to sneak in here and attack me, he was the last one I ever wanted to see or hear of again.

Rage built within me, and I lashed out, wrestling and wiggling to break free. My fight encouraged him to grab my pussy harder. I cried out at the intrusive, painful touch, but that noise was just the reward he was looking for. My agony was music to his sick ears. He chuckled, low and evil, as though my reaction was a perfect present for the sadist he was.

"It's about time that I got my hands on you," he taunted.

I bucked back at him, trying to escape the way he pinned me to the counter. He was taller and stronger, and he acted on years of pent-up obsession over me. He would never release me. I was doomed, alone and without a weapon in this place.

I didn't want to think of how he'd gotten in here. Alek said it was guarded. I saw the cameras and patrolmen on the way here. It was a protected fortress, but still, Geoff had gotten in.

If he'd gone to that much trouble to reach me, he wouldn't quit for anything.

Like hell, I'll let him have his way with me!

Desperate and panicked, I bit down hard on his gloved hand over my mouth, triumphant when my teeth cut through the leather and pierced his skin.

"You bitch!" He lowered his hand and shook it, then yanked off his mask. "It's me. Don't fucking bite me."

"I know who you are," I shot back. As if recognizing that he was one of my father's men would make me behave. Knowing he was associated with my father made me more livid, not the opposite.

He gripped my hair, yanking my head back as he swore and shoved faster at my pants. "Then you know that you'd better listen good. Give me those papers."

His breath came out in rushed exhales as he struggled to keep me captive and lower his pants.

Papers? I didn't understand.

"I need that information your husband "—he snarled the word with disgust—"was given at your fucking wedding. Where is it?"

The folded papers? I'd barely realized what they were when Maxim handed them to Alek. I spotted those lines of code, but I'd been stuck in panic mode for killing Andrey. I hadn't considered them again, not until Geoff spoke now.

I didn't want to know how he could be aware of them. Spies and espionage were commonplace in our world. Anything could be tracked or trailed. Maybe that man Alek sent back to Pavel had spoken too soon or somewhere that Kastava soldiers could have listened in. There were many ways that Geoff or my father's men could have learned about Maxim giving Alek secretive intel. All that mattered now was that Geoff did know, and he was planning to use me to gain that information for himself.

I bucked and twisted, fighting him until my last breath. If he dared to touch what wasn't his, if he tried to fit where only Alek belonged…

No. I screamed, clawing to get free.

"I need that intel, bitch. Where is it?"

"Fuck those papers! And fuck you!" A hard elbow jab to his side almost won me freedom, but he resisted with a grunt and held me tighter. My scalp burned with the tighter clench of his fingers in my hair, and tears streaked from my eyes.

"No, I'll fuck you , bitch. Your father should have given you to me. Even if you're damaged goods now, you can serve me. Serve your Family and do your duty. You'll give me those papers right after I fuck this pussy."

I set my teeth together so hard that my jaw strained from the effort. Ugly, dark fury filled me at the reminder that according to him, to my father, to all the men in the world, I would always be something to use. To dispose of.

"I won't be a spy." I slapped my hand out, gripping the closest thing on the counter as he tried to spread my legs apart.

His chest heaved at my back as he forced me to bend over so he could rape me. "The fuck you won't."

"I won't be a pawn in this war." I narrowed my eyes as he slammed my head to the counter, forcing my ass into the air. I saw red even as in my mind, I wished Alek were here to save me.

He wasn't, though. And it was, again, up to me to save the day.

I grabbed the handle to the knife I'd planned to use for preparing a meal, but instead, I aimed it at Geoff. He lost his hold on me as I twisted at the hips. Before he could shove himself inside me, I reached low and gripped his dick hard—then I sliced it off with one hard, forceful hacking motion.

He released me, screaming and falling back, and I ran.

I didn't stop to check whether he would chase me. I didn't slow to grab shoes.

As he screeched and let out morbid wails of pain and rage in the kitchen, I sprinted out the still-open door and ran like my life depended on it.