Dangerous Husbands, Broken Wives [18+]

THIRTY SEVEN: REWARDED

[IVAN]

"Five minutes! That's all you have." I hang up and slam the phone down, seething.

I grab the half bottle of rum on the table and pour myself another glass.

That's when Ana walks in, reluctantly so. I put my tumbler down and look away from her, glaring at the wall instead. "What the hell are you doing here? Go back and rest! I have everything under control."

She stays quiet, though I feel her eyes on me and everywhere.

I assume she would leave. She never liked dealing with me when I was pissed and the truth was, I didn't want her anywhere near me either. I wasn't a good person when I was angry.

I was restless, annoying, and undeniably dangerous. Add a little alcohol to my rage, and you get what they call a volcanic eruption. Ana always knew better and left me alone. And truth be told, I preferred it that way. My anger was mine to deal with. I could simmer down when things were back in control, but right now, I felt anything but in control.

Some fucking bastard out there was smug enough to think he could mess with me. Not only did that person go after my Ana, but he was also playing games now. Weaving this complicated web of fake identities and numbers that was taking way too long for my best men to pin him down.

But I'll get to him for sure. Sooner or later, he would be under my thumb, and I'll make sure to break all his bones and boil his flesh in hot oil.

"Yeah. I can see that." I hear Ana say, and it makes me a notch more frustrated because I have no clue what the fuck she means by that.

I struggle to contain the desperate desire to chase her out of the office. I know I can say mean things, and she would leave me alone. I know I can be cruel and insensitive if I really want her to hurt. I have done that in the past. To push her away, I have done and said much more than just hurling hurtful words at her. I have forced her to see what made her look at me with nothing but disgust.

But something inside me doesn't want to cross that line again.

In the past, my mistakes had led us to fall apart and for her to give up on me and my love for her. I don't want to do that again. I don't want her gone or look at me as if nothing disgusts her more. What I want is for her to wait for me, to let me deal with this mess, before we go back to our routine where I'm trying to prove my love and devotion to her, to convince her that no matter how much she denies it, she needs me just as much as I need her. That we are made for each other. And there's no fucking reason for her to not give us this chance.

Her soft footsteps echo throughout the room, pulling me back to the present.

"So..." she trails off, taking a look around the room and pausing when she comes face to face with a painting on the wall. Her hands are locked behind her back, and I didn't see that earlier, but...did I just see a little limp in her walk? "Did you find out the people behind...uh...what happened?"

I scoff and shake my head. "You don't have to be polite about it. I failed. I get it. You can rub it in my face." I grumbled though deep down I'm not looking forward to hearing "I told you so" from her. I would rather kill myself before it happens.

My father always used to say: if a man can't protect his family, does he even have the right to be called a man?

She moved to the other painting next to the earlier one, not sure if to admire it or to question how someone's taste in art could be so morbid. But then again, she probably knew that before we got married. She knew I liked dark things. I liked death and destruction and the pain that could only be felt and not worded.

"You're angry," she makes the point to speak the obvious.

But I've had enough of her. "Why are you here, Ana? What do you want?"

She turns around this time, walking with that same limp that makes me frown harder. She comes to my desk and sits in the chair across from the desk. "I want a gun."

Her words catch me off guard, but I don't react outrightly. I want to understand this. I lean back in my chair, narrowing my gaze at her.

"You think I can't protect you?"

"That's not what I said."

"But your request implies that."

She frowns, and I can tell she's trying to keep her frustration in check too. "I don't know what you expect me to say, but I'm sorry if I don't want to feel like a damsel in distress, if I don't want to wait around for some knight in shining armor, if I want to be able to protect myself and my kids if the need arises."

"You don't even know how to fire."

"I can learn. I'm a quick learner."

"How do I know you're not planning to use that to finish me off?" If she hates me so much, wouldn't that be the first thing on her mind? She could just get rid of me and never have to worry about being chased or caught. She could have the life she wants. She could find another man and live happily ever after.

I know it's all in my head—I'm being paranoid—and yet...the thought of her with another man burns something inside me. My fingers curl, and fury rises in my throat.

She rolls her eyes. "Please, I don't need a gun to kill you. If I wanted you dead, Ivan, I could have just added rat poison to your food."

Her instant response manages to bring a chuckle out of me. I forgot the last six years had turned her into a spitfire. "Right."

I can't deny that she has a point. I should know better than anyone that a bullet in the skull is not the only way to end a man. Looks like my wife just won the argument.

I should reward her for this, shouldn't I?

I pull the first drawer on my right and retrieve a handgun, placing it on the table. But before she can reach to grab it, I pull it back.

She looks at me, confused.

I get up from the chair and load the gun with bullets. "You know what'll happen if you aim this gun at me, right?"

She doesn't miss a beat before responding, rising from her chair as if she knows this conversation is over. "I can make an educated guess."

I appear in front of her and put the gun back on the desk, close to her reach but not in her control. "Humor me."

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "You never liked to just kill, so you're probably going to torture me to death."

I slide the gun towards her and take a step closer.

Ana stiffens, her eyes on the gun.

I hook a finger beneath her chin and lift it so she can look at me when I'm talking. "I'm not going to torture you to death, malysh," I grin and kiss her forehead. "I'm going to fuck you to death."

A/N: Sooooooo what do you think so far? What are you expecting might happen in the future? Can't wait to hear your thoughts :)

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