The space on the bed mocked me.

One night of feeling afraid one second, and then comforted the next. I wanted it again. Not the fear, but certainly the comfort. I liked it when he held me. The simple things, especially when he held my hand. Damn it. I sounded like a sulky teenager. I was going to be twenty soon. I shouldn’t be having these feelings, wanting my husband to hold my hand.

I left the tenth shop I’d spent a fortune in and came to a stop.

Slavik stood, sunglasses on, arms at his sides.

I folded my arms. “Yes?”

“Are you done?” he asked.

“No. You told me I could shop any time.”

“Get the car,” he said to his driver.

I stayed perfectly still, refusing to make a scene out in public. People kept looking toward us. Where I blended in, Slavik stood out like a sore thumb. A very handsome and dangerous sore thumb, but still sore.

“Do you have any idea how many of my enemies would have loved to have captured you?” he asked.

He gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in close. His lips brushed across my forehead. To any onlooker, we were enjoying an intimate moment. They didn’t know the threat he was warning me about.

This morning, I didn’t go out thinking about his enemies. I just wanted freedom and the harsh reality was that, for me, there would never be any freedom.

I was Slavik Ivanov’s wife. I would be worth so much to his enemies.

“Slavik?”

“They would’ve raped you, torn you apart, and delivered me each piece of you. I’d have failed you, Aurora.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I only went shopping.”

“And you were a fucking fool to not have a guard with you.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Today.”

“Next time, I won’t—”

“There won’t be a next time.” He grabbed my hand, ending our conversation.

He led me to the car, and like that, my rebellious shopping trip was over. I hadn’t even made it to lunch. He must have run a trace on his credit card. I didn’t know how he could have found me so fast. It wasn’t like I held a neon sign.

Sitting back, I stared out the window.

We came to a stop at a fast-food place. He handed me a brown paper bag and ordered me to eat. I hated how he treated me like a child. Still, I ate my food without a single complaint. The milkshake was nice. I wasn’t a big fan of the chocolate as I preferred strawberry, but I didn’t tell him that.

He didn’t eat.

With the food finished, he took the bag, and the next thing I knew, we were entering a private gate, driving down toward a private residence.

The house was huge. Reminded me of my parents’ house. They had a huge country estate and often had many soldiers patrolling the grounds.

Slavik got out of the car and held out his hand.