Escaping my Mafia Husband

Chapter 4

“Little bunny,” he says, teasing with a grin, “are you trying to get eaten?”

I flush so hard my fingers turn red, nearly matching my hair. Scrambling off his lap, I realize, my video is still playing. It’s the one of me in a singlet and panties, playing with my cat and giggling like an i***t. The one I swore I’d never post. The one I hid. Or thought I did.

“I just want my phone back,” I say in a small cracking voice. Aleksei glances at the screen, and I know he’s watching me shake my very awkward ass. My fingers tremble, and I barely stop myself from diving at the phone again.

“Cute,” Aleksei murmurs, then casually hands me the phone.

Cute? I stare at him, stunned, before snatching the phone and slamming the video shut. My face burns. I glance back at him.

“Did you just call me–” My mouth moves before my brain can stop it.

Aleksei looks at me, and the corner of his mouth curls. “I was talking about your cat,” he says. Then, with a wicked glint in his eye, “But your panties were cute too.”

I scream and slap both hands over my face, dying inside. My face is on fire. I have never, never, been this embarrassed. A hot guy, probably a criminal, just saw me in my panties. He’s more interested in my cat, but still. He noticed. He commented. And it's mortifying... and weirdly flattering.

“Where’s your hotel?” he asks, and I hear the smile in his voice. He’s enjoying this. He's laughing at me.

I keep my head down and mumble the address.

Even after the car starts moving again, I don’t lift my head.

“Are you not lifting your head for the whole ride, little bunny?” he asks.

I jolt upright and stare out the window. Streetlights blur past, neon signs glowing in the darkness, car horns distant but constant.

“I–my name is Claire,” I say, because it’s all I’ve got.

“Okay, Claire.” The way he says my name in that thick, rough accent makes my thighs press together. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I actually getting turned on right now?

“Th-thank you for driving me to my hotel,” I mumble, trying to bury the shame and distract myself.

“Thank you?” he repeats. “That’s not what I want.”

“Huh?” I glance at him, eyes wide.

“What is ‘huh’? You said you do anything, no?”

I cough and shake my head fast. “Not that. I just meant, like... maybe buy you something.” Yeah, right. He drives an Audi and I’m still rolling around in that beat-up Hyundai accent. What could I possibly offer him?

“Huh?” The Audi swerves suddenly to the left, jerking me against the door.

“Are you trying to reneged, little bunny?”

“No, no!” I squeal, bracing myself, sure we’re about to sideswipe the bus next to us. My heart thunders, cold panic tightening in my gut.

“So, anything,” he says, smooth as sin, while yanking the wheel back just in time. The engine snarls as he floors it again.

“Only if I make it alive first,” I mutter, watching the road like it might jump up and bite me.

He actually laughs but eases his foot off the pedal, and I finally spot the hotel looming ahead. Relief punches through me, I nearly want to leap out and sprint to the doors.

“Alright then,” he says, guiding the car into the parking lot.

As we step out, I have the misfortune of walking right into Austin, Jenna, and Freya. They’re just arriving too, and they freeze as we lock eyes.

The memory of the reception slams into me. My gaze goes straight to Jenna’s hand on Austin’s arm. She notices and flinches.

“I-I sprained my leg,” she says, her voice trembling, lips wobbling like a badly acted drama scene.

Right. But Freya’s right there, why isn’t she helping you?

“Don’t read anything into this,” Austin says, stepping toward me like some noble i***t trying to do damage control.

Shit. I forgot. We’re sharing a room. Coming back here wasn’t escaping him.

Just looking at his face makes something sour churn in my stomach. I want to vomit. Forever.

“I’ll explain everything, ” he says, wearing that look he thinks makes him look smooth but actually looks constipated.

“Just listen to us, Claire, please,” Jenna’s voice is thick with emotion, her wide eyes practically flooding. She never stops playing the sympathy card, does she?

I swallow hard, my throat tight.

“I have nothing to say. And you don’t need to explain anything.” I start to turn, and run smack into a chest.

Aleksei.

The impact stuns me. His scent is the first thing I register, clean, musky, masculine. Like a cold citrus rinse after sweat and heat. I almost bury my face in him out of instinct before flushing and stumbling back.

“Who the–” Austin lunges forward, grabs my arm, tugging like he still owns the right to protect me. “Watch it,” he growls, posturing between me and Aleksei.

The sight is so absurd I nearly choke on a laugh. Austin squaring off with Aleksei is like a mouse picking a fight with a tiger.

“Now it’s a little mouse,” Aleksei says, amused.

I crack up, like something in me just snapped and poured out as wild laughter. How can he say exactly what I’m thinking?

Freya and Jenna gape at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I wipe the tears from my eyes. “Sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

“Are you alright?” Austin is suddenly at my side, hands on me like it’s still yesterday, like his fake concern still means something. “Did this bastard do something to you?”

I open my mouth, ready to tell him to shove his concern up Jenna's ass, but Aleksei moves.

One hand wraps around Austin’s jaw, and in a single motion, he lifts him off the damn ground.

I freeze, wide-eyed, watching in stunned awe. Jenna and Freya scream like they’re in a horror film.

Aleksei snarls something in Russian, harsh and full of unspoken danger. I don’t understand the words, but I feel them.

My arms break out in goosebumps. My blood stills.

“No one talks to me like that, little rat,” he says, or something like that, the tone unmistakable, even if the words are foreign. “Unless they want their skull rearranged.”

Austin’s eyes are huge. He listens. He understands. When Aleksei finally drops him, he crumples like a wet rag, landing flat on his ass. His mouth opens, but no sound comes.