A chill crawled down my spine. He wasn’t bluffing. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I could escape, not yet, but I wanted him to know that one day, he wouldn’t have this power over me.
I turned away from him, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat. Then his voice cut through the tension again.
“Give me your hand.”
I looked back at him, frowning. That’s when I noticed the small object in his fingers. A ring.
I froze.
On our barren, joyless wedding day, he hadn’t bothered with a ring. Even when the priest had hesitated, waiting for him to slide one onto my finger, Gleb had simply given him a sharp look, and the matter was dropped.
But now, out of nowhere, he was giving me one.
Suspicion prickled at my skin. “Why?”
“So that when men look at you, they’ll know you belong to me.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “I don’t need a ring for that. You’ve made it very clear I’m your prisoner.”
His jaw twitched. “Put it on.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “No.”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. For a moment, I thought he’d force it onto my finger, but instead, he exhaled sharply and slipped the ring back into his pocket.
“Fine,” he said, voice devoid of emotion. “Get ready.”
“For what?”
“When you’re done eating, meet me at the car garage.” He ignored my question.
Then he turned and walked away.
I stared after him, my heart still pounding.
***
I didn’t eat.
Not because I was trying to defy him, but because I couldn’t. My stomach felt like a tangled knot, my nerves too raw.
I made my way to the garage, where the sheer number of cars made the place look more like a showroom than a private collection. I scanned my surroundings, searching for him, when the door to one of the sleek black vehicles swung open.
Gleb stepped out, his movements effortlessly graceful. His eyes flicked over me, unreadable.
I crossed my arms. “What is it?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. His head dipped, his face pressing against the curve of my neck.
I stiffened. “What the hell are you doing?”
He inhaled deeply before pulling back, his expression dark. “What have you done?”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
His gaze dropped to my collarbone. “You used my cologne.”
I frowned. “Since when is that a crime?”
