Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I fucking loved her, damn it!
The sight of someone else putting their hands on her had driven me to the point of violence. I’d removed them immediately, without any grace or subterfuge about why I was furious. In fact, I was pretty sure I had just started a war. I wasn’t worried about it. My brothers might be annoyed but it was a war we all knew that we would win.
I would kill a thousand men for my little Mishka. A million.
I immediately messaged my investigator to make sure he hadn’t overlooked another man in the picture. Or a girl. It was so hard to know these days what was in someone’s heart or what they might desire.
I stared at the iPad. Mishka was in the bath. I had finally given in to my baser urges and had a camera put in her bathroom, excluding the small room which held the water closet. Even I had limits, though I admit I had been tempted.
Watching her shower and bath had been earth shattering. Watching her brush her teeth had filled me with tenderness and a longing to be standing beside her. I wanted to go to sleep beside her every night, hold her through her dreams and nightmares, and wake up with her every single morning. I barely slept these days, and I hardly worked. I was constantly distracted by what my Mishka was doing.
Thanks to the video feed, and the trackers I had put in her jewelry last week, I knew where she was and what she was doing almost every second of every day.
I still had no idea what was in her mind, or in her heart. It drove me mad. I was so curious about this one sweet, fiery little girl. I needed to know everything about her. But I could not.
I closed my eyes, the vision of her sitting in the bath, holding her knees and crying burned into my brain for all eternity.
She hated me. She must.
But… she had kissed me back. Just for a moment. I could still feel her lips under mine. I could still feel the silkiness of her skin under my fingertips.
I spent the rest of the night drinking myself into a stupor and watching her sleep on my monitor. Eventually I fell into a turbulent sleep, waking several times, hoping it was dawn so I could see her again.
Chapter 16
Mishka
Iwould have killed for a pair of sunglasses. Not because I hadn’t slept. I had, actually. After crying myself to the point of utter exhaustion, I had slept extremely well, all things considered.
It had occurred to me in the morning that I hadn’t even locked my door. Not because I wanted Anton to come in. But because I knew he wouldn’t try.
He had looked devastated when I walked away. Not dangerous, even though I knew he was. Not just because of his history of violence and power.
He was dangerous because of the way his touch had made me feel. He was dangerous because I had started looking forward to serving him. Because I fantasied about playing chess against him at night, reviewing our games and even reading some strategy books on my phone late at night, and between my duties and time in the music room.
I was starting to like it here, just a little. Yes, I still chaffed at being told what to do and when. My life had order and purpose. And he was here.
Anton was becoming my entire world. Other than a few friends from school, music teachers, and my father, I had very little contact with anyone else.
And I didn’t really want to, either.
His brothers came to meals now and then. But Anton never ate with them in their wings of the estate. He never went out. He never went anywhere. And neither did I.
How long could this continue? I was reaching a breaking point with my fear and anxiety about my future. His touch, and his kiss, had only confused me further.
At some point, something was going to happen. It was beginning to feel inevitable. I both feared and cared for him. He clearly felt something for me, though I could see he was trying to resist it. Or perhaps he tried to seduce every woman he encountered. That must be it.
Why else would one of the richest men in Russian, and the world, be pursuing an inexperienced housemaid with a talent for the violin?
Boredom. It had to be.
I sighed and applied a thin coat of lip gloss, looking at my face critically. I had already put a smidge of blush on my cheeks, used a high-end moisturizer, and a thin coat of mascara. A gift bag with makeup, skin care, simple jewelry, and lingerie had mysteriously appeared in my room last week. I had ignored it at first. Eventually curiosity had gotten the better of me and I had explored the items. Eventually I had started wearing the simple gold earrings in various shapes, from small hoops, to little hearts and stars. There were matching necklaces and a bracelet, with a plain heart charm. It seemed strange to wear such a thing while working, but once I put it on, I found myself not wanting to take it off.