Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)(10)

Yeah, like my father respects me.

09:42 Bianca: Everything is okay. I’ll let you know about shopping.

I put my phone down and reach for the coffee cup when the door to the gym opens and Mikhail comes out. It takes tremendous control to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. Yesterday he was wearing a suit, but even with his jacket on, I noticed he’s packing a nice muscle mass underneath. Now, he’s wearing sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt which stretches over his impossibly-wide shoulders and muscled arms. The man is a bloody powerhouse.

“I’m going to shower and then we can go get your things,” he says and heads toward his bedroom.

I follow him with my eyes, feeling slightly like a creep. There were a lot of guys in the dance company, and they were all extremely fit, but none of them looked like that. I never met anyone who looked like that. He could probably bench-press me for hours without even breaking a sweat.

When I emerge from my room thirty minutes later, wearing my killer outfit of a T-shirt, yoga pants, and strappy heels with sequins, Mikhail is waiting for me by the door. I expected him to be in a suit again, but it looks like he’s off today since he is wearing faded black jeans and a black Henley shirt. The man genuinely likes black and, apparently, long sleeves.

In the garage, Mikhail leads me toward a monstrous SUV. I’m pretty sure it’s not the same car we arrived in last night, because I have no idea how I’m going to get into that thing in my heels. The floor is at least two and a half feet high off the ground.

Mikhail opens the door for me, and I reach out to take ahold of something to help me up when his hands grasp me around the waist.

“Need a lift?” he asks in a completely serious tone, his face just a few inches from mine.

He doesn’t wait for my reply, just lifts me, deposits me onto the seat, and closes the door.

“Did you find everything you needed last night?” he asks after he gets in the vehicle. “I told the housekeeper to buy you some basics.”

I nod. There was a big basket with body wash, shampoo, conditioner, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and even a new hairbrush left in the bathroom.

“If you need anything else, message me the list and I’ll send someone to buy it.”

He starts the car while I pretend to look at the street in front of me, but secretly, I watch him from the corner of my eye. Does he find this situation strange as well? Did he choose to get married, or did his boss order him? What if he has a girlfriend? Will he continue seeing her? What if he brings her to his apartment while I’m there? Does he expect me to sleep with him?

I let my gaze travel up his arm, noting the contours of hard muscles visible even under his sleeve. He seems focused on the road, and since I’m sitting on his blind side and leaning back in my seat, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t notice me watching him. I take the opportunity to inspect his face better. Whatever happened to him, it was not recent. Those scars look old. The interesting thing is, I don’t mind them at all. Actually, I find my husband extremely handsome, so physically, I have no complaints whatsoever.

The car slows down, probably for a red light on the street, and then stops. Mikhail turns his head toward me and pins me with his gaze. I guess I’m busted, but I don’t look away. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t call me out for my staring, just watches me until the light changes to green. Then, he turns back to the road and keeps driving. I don’t think I have ever met such a composed, controlled person. His face is completely expressionless. I can’t deduce anything from it. Is he angry because I was staring at him? Or maybe he doesn’t give a damn. Strange, strange man.





*


Mikhail parks the car in front of my father’s house and comes around just as I’m opening my door. He places his hands on my waist again and helps me down. The moment my feet reach the ground, he quickly removes his hands.

“Take only what you need for the next two days. I’ll send someone for the rest. It will be best if I wait for you here.”

“Five minutes,” I mouth the words, turn and rush inside the house, hoping I won’t meet anyone on the way to my room. Milene is at school, and there is no one else I care to see.

“Dear God, Bianca.” Allegra’s voice reaches me from behind as I’m heading upstairs. “How can you bear being near that monster?”

I stop at the bottom of the stairs and turn to face my older sister, who is standing with her hands on her hips, looking at me with distaste. For some reason, Allegra has always hated my guts and did her best to put me down with her poisonous comments, even when we were kids. Angelo once said she was jealous of me, which was ridiculous because Allegra was always the perfect daughter. Everyone has always adored her, while I was seen as a black sheep in our family, a pretty but flawed girl who couldn’t speak.

I take two steps in her direction and stop right in front of her. Reaching out to grasp for her hand, I look at her bare ring finger, mocking sadness, then pat the back of her hand and lift my own bearing the wedding ring. Having made my point, I flip her off and leave her staring daggers at my back. I know my sister’s weak points well, and I don’t have a problem exploiting them. Allegra’s main goal in life has always been to get married. She started making plans for her wedding day in the fourth grade. In her narrow-minded brain, my getting married before her was the most disastrous thing that could have happened.