Heart of My Monster (Monster Trilogy, #3)(42)

I punch him in the chest. Damn. That felt good. “Call me emotional again, and I’ll fuck up your face.”

He grunts and massages his chest with his good hand. “Are you sure? I thought you loved my face, and you find it, I quote, gorgeous.”

“That was before I realized how manipulative you are. None of my previous feelings count.”

“We’ll see about that. Besides, you learned last night that I didn’t marry Kristina and actually reunited her with her lover, who happens to be Konstantin. So your reasons for hating me are null and void.”

“You still went behind my back and stood with her at the altar.”

“The marriage was never going to happen. It was all for show.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Would you have accepted it if I had?”

I purse my lips.

“There.” He throws a hand in my general direction. “Your answer.”

“It doesn’t matter now. Also, this isn’t only about the marriage. It’s about sending someone to eliminate my family and me after realizing we were the last living members of the organization whose annihilation you plotted.”

“I told you that wasn’t true, but it’s clear that you’re not ready to be open-minded and consider that angle.”

“Then…tell me. You mentioned the possibility of a traitor in my family last night. Who is it? Do you have the evidence?”

“Who knows? I need to wait until I make sure you’re not planning to use me for information and then discard me.”

“You already have Anton as leverage.”

“Doesn’t hurt to acquire more.” He reaches over, palms my face, and kisses the top of my head.

The motion is so fast and sudden that I only realize it after he’s done it.

I push at his chest with enough force to nearly send us both tumbling down.

He hits his injured bicep on the headboard and groans.

Shit.

Did he open his stitches?

I cross my arms, my voice dripping with guilt. “I told you not to touch me.”

“I’ll touch my wife whenever I fucking want.” He stands up, and I’m slammed head-first by the glorious view of his naked body. He doesn’t even try to hide his half-erect cock.

But something other than his shameless nudity steals my attention. He’s a lot leaner than the last time I saw him. It’s more drastic than after he was shot in Russia.

I look the other way, refusing to get caught in that web. “Can’t you put some clothes on?”

“Why should I wear them when I’m in front of my wife? Speaking of which, care to relieve the hard-on caused by your constant rubbing against me?”

“I…didn’t do that.”

“My cock would like to respectfully disagree. His state is physical proof of the harassment, as unintentional as it was.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a pervert.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips, the sound flowing around my head, and then he ruffles my hair. “That’s where you’re wrong, Solnyshko. It’s entirely your fault.”

I push his hand away and glare up at him, trying to ignore his dick that’s a tad too close to my face.

He lets his hand drop to his side, his humor dwindling away. “Go get changed. I got you clothes last night and put them in the closet.”

Before I can reply, he heads to the bathroom.

My gaze lingers on his muscular back, his tight ass, and the strong tendons of his thighs that flex with every movement. The tattoos covering them seem like they’re animated.

Kirill stops at the threshold and peeks back with a smirk as if he knew I’d be staring.

I spring up from the bed and throw the covers down. It’s too hot in here.

On my way to the closet, I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger. The green jewel sparkles under the morning light. Kirill also clasped the bracelet on my wrist. I can’t help the mix of emotions that run through me. A part of me always mourned losing these two items, but now, I’m apprehensive about being back to square one.

Shaking my head internally, I text Maksim.

Do you know where Kirill is keeping Anton?

When no reply comes, I send another one.

Please tell me Viktor isn’t personally responsible for his confinement. That bull would kill him for daring to betray Kirill.

Another more grim thought comes to mind.

Don’t tell me…it’s you? Maks, I know Anton can be an asshole, and he had no right to imprison and torture you all that time, but you’re better than him, okay? Please don’t do something you’ll regret. Text me back when you get this.

My chest constricts as I stare at the screen and still get no reply or evidence that he read it.

Please be the better man, Maks. Please.

I leave my phone on the table and head into the closet. Sure enough, there are countless dresses, pants, shirts, and even jeans. All new and in my size.

Kirill put them with my old clothes that are still there. He must’ve unpacked the duffel bag I took to the basement and also placed the suits and men's clothes here.

My throat closes when I find my wedding dress hanging at the far end of my old clothes. The veil is draped around it, and the amateur crown of flowers I made sits on the box with my shoes in it.