Ava
“Are you out of your mind!?” I screech, slamming my fist down repeatedly against Nikolai’s back. He makes no effort to dignify my outburst with a response other than the low grunt that escapes him and continues marching down the parking lot towards his car.
A small crowd has slowly started to form with people murmuring and exchanging glances as I dangle from my husband’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Unfortunately, the growing crowd does little to sway my husband, and he continues to ignore the curious looks from the strangers around us, moving with calm, unhurried steps. His hold around the back of my thighs is the only thing anchoring me to him and my cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration at the position I’m in.
It’s official, today is officially the worst day of my life.
Not only am I being hurled around by Nikolai on his shoulder, but, everyone can see it happening, and no one is doing anything to help me.
“Put me down you pompous ass-” my words are abruptly cut off by the sharp sting of his hand against my backside. My body tenses and a gasp slips out from my throat at the suddenness of the action.
“Did you just spank me?”
He does it again; this time, his hand connects with my ass in a loud smack that causes me to jerk and yelp against him.
The bastard did it again.
“Quiet” he commands, voice low and firm. The way he says it sends a rush of heat pooling between my thighs and I’m momentarily mortified by the sensation.
My cheeks flame with embarrassment, and I wiggle against his grasp, trying to get free, but his hold only tightens.
“Stop moving”, he demands, lightly patting my ass, and the rage I feel at that moment explodes out of me in an array of colourful cuss words.
“I swear to God, Nikolai, if you don’t put me down this instant, I’ll-”
He spanks me again.
“Will you stop doing that!” I exclaim, fisting the fabric of his shirt in tight clumps as I try to steady myself.
Whatever shred of dignity I had left is now lying shamelessly on the floor in the form of dust, and Nikolai ensures that with each step he takes, the specks scatter in the air until every spectator catches a whiff of it.
“Quiet Solnyshko,” he murmurs, his tone a command that has me biting my lower lip.
I start to slip, and I let out a yelp and grip his shirt tighter with such strength that I’m sure the fabric might give out and rip. “Nikolai, please,” I whisper, “This is…. This is highly inappropriate,”
He chuckles humorlessly and adjusts me on his shoulder so that I’m not slipping anymore, tightening his grip.
Around us, more people stop in their tracks to look at us, eyes wide as they take in the scene playing out in front of them. Heat floods my cheeks, and I press my face into his back, desperately trying to shield myself from their prying eyes.
I can still feel the weight of their heavy gazes against my neck despite this and I silently pray for Nikolai to drop me and the ground to split open and swallow me whole.
“This is what you get for trying to leave me.”
“But I -”
He spanks me again and I press my forehead harder into his shirt.
I should probably stop talking now.
I swallow hard, forcing the words at the tip of my tongue back down. I didn’t understand why he was so mad. Sure, I’d left the house this morning without telling anyone but I had every intention of coming back.
Eventually.
My resolve wavers and my anger mixes with the unmistakable ache building low in my belly, and I don’t know whether I want to scream at him or I want him to kiss me again.
Probably both.
Nikolai finally reached his car and unlocked the door to the passenger seat before lowering me into the leather seat, his hand grazing my thigh as he did.
My pulse quickens as the brush of his fingertips against my skin causes tingles to spread along my spine. I look up, expecting to find him already gone, but I’m surprised to find his eyes still locked on me. His face stands only a few inches away from mine and he leans forward, enveloping me with the scent of his cologne along with the faint smell of cigarettes that cling to his clothes.
Usually, I despise the smell of cigarettes, but with him, I didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, I was strangely unbothered by it.
His breath fans my face and I can’t help the way my body sways toward him.
He lifts his hand, and I instinctively squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the contact of his palm on my skin. A minute goes by and when I feel nothing, I open my eyes again just in time to see him pulling the strap of the seatbelt over my body.
Oh.
With a quiet click, he fastens the belt around me. His hand lingers on the strap for a second before he drags his gaze up to meet mine
His eyes remain dark and his expression unreadable, and I half expect him to say something, but when he doesn’t, I’m relieved. He takes a step back and closes the door.
The moment the door shuts and I’m alone in the vehicle I release a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding until it was out.
I glance back at Cara who is standing on the sidewalk in the same spot she was when Nikolai tossed me over his shoulder. She hadn’t moved one inch, and the expression on her face was one of shock, confusion and strange amusement wrapped into one.
She arches a brow in my direction, the universal Cara signal for ‘Do you want me to step in?’
I shake my head and mouth the words, “It’s fine. Talk to you later”, to her just as Nikolai yanks the door to the driver’s seat open and slips in.
His presence immediately engulfs the car with the kind of tension that has my stomach rolling in knots.
His jaw is tight, and his eyes are focused. Without a word he pushes a button behind the steering wheel, starting the car. The engine roars to life and I press my palm against my thighs, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt as he grips the gear shift, sliding it into drive and tightening his hold around the steering wheel.
The Car lurches forward, and I watch him as he guides the vehicle out of the parking lot, manoeuvring past the crowd of people that had gathered during our little display.
He pulls onto the main street, merging seamlessly with the afternoon traffic of Chicago. He lets out a ragged breath once we are on the road, tapping his index finger against the steering wheel as he does, his eyes never leaving the road.
I press my hands harder against my thigh, fiddling my skirt with my fingertips. I try to figure out something to say, but every time my mouth attempts to form the words, they slip away, and we are once again engulfed in the silence with the sound of the blaring horns outside occasionally slipping through.
The silence between sits heavy and I’m desperate to fill it with something other than the sound of car horns.
But what exactly do I say?
I can’t just say, Sorry for running away from the house, but honestly, you made it so easy because you didn’t put cameras at the service entrance. Who doesn’t put cameras at the service entrance anyway?
Nope, I sigh, I honestly doubt saying any of that is going to help me right now.
I steal a glance in his direction and I catch sight of the vein in his neck pulsing steadily beneath his skin.
I have to physically stop myself from reaching up and doing something stupid, like touching it.
“What were you thinking?”
Four words. One question. And yet, somehow, the emotion behind them feels like it’s pressing into my throat.
I swallow past the tightness in my throat, trying to steady myself as a response hovers at the tip of my tongue.
“I was going to come back”, I say, ignoring how my voice wavers.
He scoffs and I snap my gaze towards him, my tone firmer this time, “I mean it,” I say.
“Of course you do.”
“I had every intention of coming back after classes.”
I insist, the urgency in my voice surprising even me.
Any girl in my position would’ve seen the opportunity to escape from him, from all of this and taken it but I didn’t. I tried telling myself it was because I had nowhere to go, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t the only reason.
“You disappeared Ava”
His eyes remain on the road, hard and unyielding and I can’t help but notice the way his grip tightens around the steering wheel, a stark contrast to the calm expression on his face. My eyes glide up his exposed forearm, tracing the patterns of his tattoo.
One day I want to ask him what they mean and why he has so many of them.
“I know,” I say, biting my lower lip, “I’m sorry,” I twist, turning to him fully. Despite the way his fingers clench around the steering wheel, Nikolai seems oddly relaxed and in his element as he glides down the busy Chicago street.
“Sorry, doesn’t cut it; you could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he says, and I wince, feeling the weight of his anger settle between us.
Okay, so maybe not entirely relaxed.
“Getting myself Killed by simply going to school is a bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?
He lets out a bitter laugh, the sound making my chest grow tight, “You are my wife Solnyshko, Do you have any idea how many of my enemies would’ve tried to use you to get to me, if they found out for one moment that I’d let you roam the streets of Chicago unprotected? For Christ’s sake, Ava the Moretti’s could’ve pulled something if they found out that you were alone, do you even realize how serious that would’ve been”
My stomach twists, guilt suddenly piercing through me. Shit, I totally forgot about them.
Northshore Academy is located just outside of Italian territory, which meant that any of Alessandro’s men could have seen me today and reported back to him. I curse under my breath, the realization of the risk I’d just taken becoming glaringly obvious.
The thought that I could have run into either Antonio or Alessandro today or one of their men and not be able to defend myself, makes my skin crawl at how reckless I had to not even consider the possibility. I was so caught up in trying to do things my way that I completely forgot about the two men who had almost ruined my life, just a week ago and how they could’ve done it again now that my father is missing.
I glance at Nikolai, the anger still simmering in his eyes. He was right. I was being reckless and because of that, I had almost offered myself to the enemies on a silver platter.
“Why did you leave Solnyshko?”
The question caught me off guard, not because he said it but because of the concern I sensed lurking behind the way he said it.
I open my mouth and then shut it. His lips press into a thin line and I wonder what’s going through his mind.
“I wanted to go back to school”
I say finally, after what feels like forever.
“You. wanted. To. Go. Back. To. School.” he repeats the words back to me, annunciating each syllable. I nod, suddenly feeling stupid at how ridiculous he’s making it sound.
“You risked your life today, simply because you wanted to go back to school?”
I nod again, and just like that, he snaps.
“And you didn’t think to tell me.”
“I thought you wouldn’t let me go”
“Damn right I wouldn’t have let you go”
“Nikolai..”
He looks at me then, for the first time since we’ve been trapped inside this vehicle and I can’t find the words to describe the way he’s looking at me.
“You thought that I would deprive you of getting an education.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I ask, looking him dead in the eye. He says something in Russian, and for some reason, that makes my blood boil.
“English, please.”
He glares at me, “Is that really what you think of me, Solnyshko? You think that I’m a man who’ll stop you from getting an education simply because I can?”
“I-” I start to say then stop. Wouldn’t he?
Nikolai was in the mafia, and like every other mafia man I’d come across, they preferred their wife to be docile and submissive, none of which I am.
I liked my independence. I liked being able to do things when I wanted how I wanted, including going back to school.
The Morettis preferred their women docile and education only did the opposite in their world. Passion for women didn’t exist in their world and I assumed Nikolai held the same beliefs.
Maybe he didn’t.
“I thought you wouldn’t approve of my decision to continue pursuing art.”
“I don’t care if you’re an artist Solnyshko. I care that you’re protected and safe. You want to go back to school? Be my guest, but tell me first so that I can make the necessary arrangements to ensure your safety.”
My lips part as my mind tries to grapple with the meaning of his words. He didn’t care that I wanted an education or that I loved art. He wanted me to be protected while I did the things I loved and I had no idea how to respond to that.
“Nikolai…” I start to say but my words are cut off by the sound of a car horn.
We both snap our attention towards the source of the noise and it’s only then we realize that the car in front of us has moved.