Chapter 34

Sergei stands in the living room at the window looking out at the gardens when I walk into the guest wing. His body tenses as I shut the door and drop my purse along with my keys on the small table in the entranceway.

"Cora." My name slips gracefully from his lips as he turns away from the window.

It's been days since I've laid eyes on him.

Longer since I've heard him speak to me.

I stand taller, bracing myself for the argument that's bound to come. The demand that I move back into his bedroom. That I forget all about this temper tantrum and do as he says.

Because that's who he is.

The man in charge.

The man who holds my life in his hands.

Not to mention my heart.

If I'm going to be able to fight him, I have to shove those feelings down. They're not welcome here, not with him.

"Sergei," I say when the silence gets heavy.

"How did the job interview go?" he asks, taking a small step away from the window.

It's not a surprise he knows where I was. His men are forever loyal to him.

"I'm pretty sure I blew it."

He tilts his head. "Why? What happened?"

"The woman interviewing me recognized me. She asked if I was your wife." I fold my arms over my stomach. "Apparently, she had a really nice evening with you once last summer and is still waiting for you to call her." I press my lips together.

He winces.

"I never promised to call." He doesn't even know who the woman is, but I'm sure he made it a habit to never make that promise. He may keep information close to his chest to get what he wants, but he doesn't make promises he can't keep.

"Anyway, it just got really awkward after that. I mean, why would Sergei Petrov's wife need a job anyway, right?" I sigh. It's not his fault my afternoon didn't go well.

He is who he is.

Or was.

He's not like that now.

I'm too tired to work my way through defending the man who holds my heart in his clenched fist.

"I'm sorry," he says.

He means it.

"I can help you get a job if you'd like, but you also don't need to. Focus on your studies for now—" He cuts his words off, snapping his mouth shut and looking away from me.

He takes a deep breath.

"I need some water," I say before I give into this insane urge to run to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I miss his embrace. I miss his glowering at me when he thinks I'm getting close to the line with my attitude. I miss his grunts of approval, and the way he can put my whole world at ease just by being in the room.

I hurry to the kitchen, snatching a glass from the dishwasher and filling it from the tap.

"Cora." My name is harder this time. Urgent even.

I spin around.

"Sit. Please." He points to the kitchen chairs. "We need to talk."

My stomach clenches.

He's going to send me away.

That's what the Petrovs do when they decide they can't be married anymore. They send the woman away and they live completely separate lives.

But she's never allowed to remarry because she's legally stuck with him.

I've already decided I won't do it. I will move back into my old apartment, or get a new one, but I will not leave Chicago. I'm not going to be tucked away somewhere so he can feel better about what's happened.

"This isn't going to continue." He sits and places his hands on the table, flat on top of a manila envelope. I glance at it. It wasn't there earlier when I left.

"What's not?" I clear my throat of the fear that's trying to choke me.

"You living in the guest wing." He puts his hand up when I open my mouth to argue. "Let me finish."

"Fine." I lean away from the table. "It's your house, go ahead."

His lips pinch together. "Victoria is gone."

"I know," I cut in. "I heard you had her taken back to LA or whatever part of hell she crawled out of."

He lifts an eyebrow. "And?"

"And what?"

"You think I shouldn't have?"

"I think you should have been honest with me from the beginning. I think you shouldn't have shut me out." It feels so good to say it out loud. "You should have talked to me, warned me she was going to be trouble. Then when she said all that bullshit to me in the bathroom, I wouldn't have been so quick to believe her." Tears build in my eyes. "Maybe I wouldn't have been at Kraze at all that night. Instant of letting Krista drag me out of the house to try to get my mind off what was happening with you, I would have been here when Mom—" I have to stop, take a breath to stop the bubbling sobs from erupting. "I could have been here when Mom had the heart attack."

His jaw sets.

He reaches across the table and grabs my hand, squeezing. "You're right."

I blink.

What now?

"I shouldn't have distanced myself from you. I should have told you that seeing her reminded me of how badly she hurt me." He runs his thumb over my knuckles. "But that would have been admitting I had allowed her to do so."

"Of course she hurt you," I blurt. "And I wanted to scratch her eyes out for it. But I wouldn't hurt you, not like she did, and not like you've hurt me."

I try to pull away, but he holds tight.

"I did hurt you," he acknowledges with a small nod. "And I'm sorry."

None of this is what I had on my bingo card for events happening in this lifetime.

"Sergei." I have no idea what is supposed to come after that.

"I know you wouldn't do what she did. I know because you're an honest woman. You're a loyal woman. You're an intelligent woman who doesn't need anyone to make things happen for you. You take the world by the balls." He makes a fist in the air as though actually squeezing a pair of testicles.

"I'm not sure who you're talking about," I scoff. "I tried to extort thousands of dollars from you because I was broke and needed the money."

"Right. You needed the money to care for your mother, so you grabbed a pair of balls and squeezed." He makes the gesture again.

With my free hand, I wrap it around his fist and gently push it to the table.

"I think we've gotten off track. What did you want to tell me?" I pull back from him, giving a pointed look at the envelope beneath his arm.

His gaze travels the same path and he pushes it toward me.

"Like I said, this can't go on."

I take the envelope and open it, pulling out a document.

Divorce papers.

When I look up at him, his lips are pressed firmly together. I think there's fear in his eyes. I'm not sure because he's never been afraid of anything.

"What's this?" I put the papers down.

"When my mother was dying, she sent a letter to my grandmother. I thought begging for forgiveness and for her to finally recognize me as part of their family." He pauses. "My grandmother never opened it; she sent it back and I kept it all these years. Unopened." He wets his lips. "I opened it the other day. And it's not what I thought. It wasn't a long letter asking for forgiveness at all. It was a single piece of paper with a single sentence scribbled."

"What did it say?" I grab hold of his hand now, knowing how much anger and pain he's been holding onto all these years.

"I forgive you." He blows out a long breath. "She forgave them for everything."

I squeeze his hand.

"Which made me realize something." He straightens his shoulders. "You were right, about a lot, but particularly this. My mother wouldn't want me to destroy the company. She forgave, and it's time I do."

"If we divorce, you lose the company," I remind him with a crack in my own voice.

I know I didn't want to be tucked away somewhere to be forgotten. But somehow being set free is just as bad.

He doesn't want me.

"It's all been dealt with already. I finally got my hands on my cousin, and we figured it all out." He sighs. "So, now we need to figure this out."

He pushes the papers toward me again.

"You said once that you could love me enough for the both of us, but you were wrong." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box, placing it next to the papers.

"I was?" Another crack, and the tears are getting harder to shove down. I didn't realize I'd said that out loud.

"I have never loved anyone or anything as much as I love you, Cora. I've tried to ignore it. I tried to deny it. I tried to put enough space between us to make it go away, but it doesn't. It's unwavering."

I swallow. "You love me?"

"I do," he answers with a hard nod. "And I know you love me back, so don't bother lying," he orders in the typical Sergei way.

"I won't." I shake my head. "But, then why the divorce papers?"

"Because." He opens the box and a princess cut diamond ring stares up at me. "Then you'll be free to marry me. Not because we have some business arrangement, but because you want to. Because I want to."

My throat dries up.

"And if I say no?" I give a pointed look at the most beautiful ring I've ever seen.

"Then I will do everything I can to change your mind, no matter how long it takes." He leans back, taking away his touch from me. "I'll do what Viktor has done and give you the space and love you need to come to your senses. It worked for him. I don't see why it wouldn't work for me."

His arrogance makes me laugh. "It worked for him?"

"Yes. Marlena finally agreed to marry the bastard." He waves a hand through the air. "But I don't care about them. I care about us. About you." He leans forward. "So, you have to decide. Divorce and marry or just divorce."

I stare at the papers. "Seems like a lot of legal red tape," I say, picking up the box. The light hits the diamond, and I can practically hear it ding with the sparkle.

"It's paperwork." He lifts a shoulder. "We can be remarried by tomorrow night."

I glance up at him. "No."

His face falls. "No?"

"No. I don't want to be remarried tomorrow night. I want a wedding this time, Sergei. A real wedding. With a white gown, and Krista to be my maid of honor. I want you in a tux waiting at the end of the aisle for me. I want all of it."

His shoulders soften and he gets up from the table, shoving it out of the way to get to me.

He grabs me, picks me up, and carries me to the counter where he plops me down.

"Whatever you want." He frames my face with his hands. "Everything you want. It's yours."

"I just want you, Sergei," I whisper, letting the tears finally fall. "I don't need anything else. Just you."

"I'm yours, Coraline Petrov."

He kisses me.

Not a gentle, ‘we've just made up' kiss, but a powerful claiming that reminds me I'm his. And will forever be his.

Because we took a vow.

And it's unbreakable.

We belong to each other now.

Forever.

If you loved the Sacred Obsession Series and want more obsessed, possessive heroes, check out the Mafia Brides Series.