Page 51 of Married with Blood
I came out to find her not in bed but sitting in a chair, gazing out the window and too lost in thought for my liking.
“What’s going on?”
She slowly faced me, her expression blank. “What?”
“Why are you acting like someone’s kicking you when you’re down?”
She rolled her eyes and turned to face the window again.
I caught her chin with my hand and redirected her to make eye contact. A fiery sass and stubbornness flared in her caramel eyes, so dark and full of heat at my being more direct like this.
“I’m adjusting to the fact that my brother might be making bad decisions and destroying the family and power I came from.”
You camefromthe Cartel, but you areminenow.I narrowed my eyes. “You’re so distracted that you’re renewing my concerns that you could be spying for him.”
She shot to her feet, removing my hold on her chin. Pure anger flashed in her eyes now. Her hands stayed in tight fists as she locked her arms to her sides, but she didn’t raise them at me.
There we go.
There’s that spirit I’ve been missing these past few days.
“Are you planning to take all that we’re scheming to him? You want to run home and give him a heads up that he’s in trouble with us?”
“No!” She scowled, showing an uncensored view of how offensive she found my proposition to be. “The Bratva and Cartel are not enemies. Theyshouldn’tbe enemies, and there would be no point in spying for him.”
That’s not the same thing as you admitting you’re not, though.
“Arturo hasn’t contacted me since I left. He hasn’t said a word to me or acted as though I exist any longer.”
Again, that’s not the same thing as sayingno.
“He erased me from his life. He’s not looking for anything from me.” She slashed her arm through the air like she could strike the thought from this room.
Still not a straight-up denial.
“You are mine, Carina. You belong to me, to the Bratva.”
She slitted her eyes and exhaled harshly through her nose.
“You aren’t part of the Cartel anymore, not like you used to be.”
A rude huff left her lips. “If you were to ask my brother, I was never a valid part of the Cartel, either, not in making any executive decisions.”
“You see yourself as mine, though? As part of the Volkov family?” I tipped my chin up, looking down my nose at her. “Not part of the Garcia Cartel?”
She nodded, but she didn’t let go of that fire in her eyes.
“You swear your loyalty tome, Wife?”
One more stiff nod as she seethed at me.
“Prove it.”
Now she changed her attitude. Curiosity wiped away the anger and frustration. She arched one brow, not backing up and staying right in my face.
“Prove it,” I repeated. “Prove that you see yourself as mine. As my wife. As my strategist.”
An array of emotions crossed over her face as she seemed to search mine for an answer. Then as she dipped her chin andalmost tricked me into thinking she was playing for a demure and coy look, she lowered. Crouching. Then kneeling. All while keeping her eyes on mine, she got down on the floor in front of me and tugged my pants down. I hadn’t bothered with underwear after my shower, and my cock pointed right at her, hard and stiff, a glistening drop of precum leaking from the tip.
