So, we came up with a practical solution.
One night on.
One night off.
Problem solved.
When it was my turn, I’d enjoy it to the fullest. But when it washisturn, I’d be forced to endure it so he could have it his way. And vice versa.
We didn’t realize it then, but that method was more effective than we anticipated. It helped ease us into each other’s worlds, one night at a time. By doing so, we subconsciously began learning how to be selfless for one another.
The journey so far had been educational in ways I was never prepared for. And the best part of it all was his willingness to participate in this exercise.
Even the guards were used to having me around by now. They showed me immense respect as their boss’s wife. I heard they referred to me as the “Bratva Queen” amongst themselves.
My presence dominated the mansion, and I moved around freely, giving orders like I owned the place. Technically, I did. I eased into this married life barely two weeks after the wedding. No regret and no time for self-pity.
This was my place. I belonged here now.
Everyone had accepted me.
Everyone except for Konstantin.
That man just wouldn’t loosen up around me. I had no idea what his problem was, and I didn’t care.
Artur said not to pay attention to him, that he’d always been like that. Broody and grumpy. However, I couldn’t help thinking he had a secret beef with me. Especially after I found out he was the one who told Artur about my pregnancy.
He never outright told me he didn’t like me or approve of me. But his actions spoke volumes.
What the hell did I do to that man?
Anyway, my life wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be as a twenty-one-year-old American married to a Russian Mafia boss.
Yes, my education was on hold for now, and my future was yet to be determined. But I believed that at the right time,Artur and I would have that conversation. And things would fall in place.
That afternoon, I was in the bedroom taking a nap after helping Hilda with some minor chores around the house. I didn’t have to work, and she almost didn’t let me. But I convinced her to let me help because I needed something to occupy my mind.
I was deep in my sleep when the unmistakable sound of gunfire woke me up. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. The mansion was under attack. Again.
Outside, men were yelling in Russian, barking orders as rapid shots rippled through the estate. I sat on the bed, my hand instinctively flying to my belly, as if making sure my baby was safe.
I’d experienced this once before, and I knew panicking right now was a bad idea. So I pulled myself together despite my racing heart and drumming pulse.
Familiar voices echoed through the halls as staff members ran to safety. Quickly, I rushed to the secret compartment in the wall where Artur kept a loaded Glock.
With shaky hands, I punched in the code, nervously glancing over my shoulders. Artur had no idea I knew about the gun compartment. Nor did he know that I’d memorized the code.
I withdrew the weapon, turned off the safety, and closed the compartment. When I heard heavy footsteps approaching the room, I aimed the gun at the door with trembling hands.
My brows drew together, my grip tightening around the handle. I waited, aiming steadily until the door burst open.
I almost pulled the trigger until I realized it was Artur.
“Shit! Don’t shoot!” He moved so quickly that he would’ve dodged the bullet even if I’d accidentally fired.
“Sorry.” I lowered the gun.
He stared at me for a moment, then shifted his gaze between me and the compartment behind me. Artur was clearly shocked, confused as to how I got hold of that gun.