Sweet Deception: Chapter 7

ANNA

Gleb’s lips brushed against mine, and a sharp jolt of electricity surged through my body. My breath caught, my pulse hammering. For a single, maddening second, my anger wavered, replaced by something dark and treacherous.

But just as quickly as the moment came, it was gone.

He pulled away with the same cold efficiency he did everything, leaving me trembling, not from desire, but from frustration. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. He was toying with me, as if testing how far he could push me before I shattered.

My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “One of these days, you’ll come home and find me gone.”

Gleb didn’t even blink. “You can’t leave Moscow.”

His tone was so final, so absolute, it made my skin crawl.

“I might let you roam the city,” he continued, his voice smooth, detached. “Let you think you have some freedom. But if you try to leave.” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating. “The consequences won’t be pleasant.”

A chill crawled down my spine. He wasn’t bluffing. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I could escape, not yet, but I wanted him to know that one day, he wouldn’t have this power over me.

I turned away from him, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat. Then his voice cut through the tension again.

“Give me your hand.”

I looked back at him, frowning. That’s when I noticed the small object in his fingers. A ring.

I froze.

On our barren, joyless wedding day, he hadn’t bothered with a ring. Even when the priest had hesitated, waiting for him to slide one onto my finger, Gleb had simply given him a sharp look, and the matter was dropped.

But now, out of nowhere, he was giving me one.

Suspicion prickled at my skin. “Why?”

“So that when men look at you, they’ll know you belong to me.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “I don’t need a ring for that. You’ve made it very clear I’m your prisoner.”

His jaw twitched. “Put it on.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “No.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. For a moment, I thought he’d force it onto my finger, but instead, he exhaled sharply and slipped the ring back into his pocket.

“Fine,” he said, voice devoid of emotion. “Get ready.”

“For what?”

“When you’re done eating, meet me at the car garage.” He ignored my question.

Then he turned and walked away.

I stared after him, my heart still pounding.

***

I didn’t eat.

Not because I was trying to defy him, but because I couldn’t. My stomach felt like a tangled knot, my nerves too raw.

I made my way to the garage, where the sheer number of cars made the place look more like a showroom than a private collection. I scanned my surroundings, searching for him, when the door to one of the sleek black vehicles swung open.

Gleb stepped out, his movements effortlessly graceful. His eyes flicked over me, unreadable.

I crossed my arms. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. His head dipped, his face pressing against the curve of my neck.

I stiffened. “What the hell are you doing?”

He inhaled deeply before pulling back, his expression dark. “What have you done?”

I blinked in confusion. “What?”

His gaze dropped to my collarbone. “You used my cologne.”

I frowned. “Since when is that a crime?”

He said nothing for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then he turned abruptly. “Get in.”

I huffed but climbed into the car beside him. As he started the engine, he suddenly hesitated, fingers still on the key.

“Did you eat?”

I turned my head sharply, eyeing him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

He glanced at me. “Go back inside and eat.”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “Since when do you care?”

“Anna.” His voice was edged with warning.

“I don’t have an appetite,” I snapped. “Just drive.”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“Either you eat, or we’re not leaving.”

I exhaled harshly. “It’s my body. My stomach. My problem.”

His jaw clenched, and without a word, he stepped out of the car and stalked around to my side. My pulse quickened.

When he opened my door, I immediately kicked my legs in protest, thrashing like a child. “Don’t you dare…”

Gleb ignored me and easily lifted me out of the car.

“Put me down!” I hissed, squirming.

“Then walk inside and eat.”

I glared at him. “I don’t want your food.”

He sighed, clearly irritated. “What do you want?”

I hesitated, then mumbled, “Lombardy.”

“The fuck is Lombardy?”

“An Italian cheese.” I glanced away. “It used to be my favorite.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, then slipped it back into his pocket.

“I’m taking you to see your brother and cousins.” His voice was calm, but the weight of his words slammed into me like a tidal wave.

My heart nearly stopped.

I had spent months too terrified to ask if they were alive. Too afraid that the answer would break me.

My throat tightened. “They’re still…”

“Alive?” He gave a cruel smirk. “For now.”

***

Twenty minutes later, Gleb pulled up to a stark white building.

The moment we stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, damp concrete, and something metallic… blood. The interior wasn’t a home. It was a prison.

As we walked through the dim corridor, I felt dozens of eyes on me. Behind iron bars, men of different ages and ethnicities watched in silence, some with dead stares, others with curiosity.

And then we stopped.

My breath hitched.

Through the bars of the cell, I saw them.

Matteo. Vincenzo. Salvatore.

Their bodies were thin, their skin stretched over sharp bones. Their faces, once so familiar, so full of life were hollowed by suffering.

Matteo was the first to notice me. His head snapped up, disbelief flashing across his sunken features.

“Matteo,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes.

He shot to his feet, rushing to the bars. “Anna?”

A sob broke from my throat as I grabbed his hands through the iron. He spoke rapidly in Italian, his voice hoarse, frantic.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

Vincenzo and Salvatore stood behind him, their gazes dark, unreadable. My cousins. My family.

And I had left them to suffer.

Matteo’s grip on my hands tightened. “Did he force you?”

I swallowed hard. “I married him willingly.”

His expression twisted with grief. “No, Anna. You don’t understand…”

A sharp voice cut through our reunion.

“Enough.”

I turned to see Gleb standing a few feet away, watching with detached amusement.

I sucked in a trembling breath and turned back to Matteo. “I swear to you, I will get you out.”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t believe me. Maybe he didn’t.

But I meant it.

I would find a way.

Even if it killed me

A thick, suffocating silence stretched between us.

Matteo’s fingers tightened around mine, as if he could anchor me there with him, keep me from slipping away. I wanted to hold on. I wanted to stay. But the weight of Gleb’s presence pressed against my back like a cold blade.

“Step away from the bars,” he ordered, his voice calm, yet laced with warning.

I didn’t move.

Matteo’s dark eyes flicked to Gleb, then back to me. “Anna, don’t trust him.”

As if I ever had.

I squeezed Matteo’s hand, a silent promise. I would fix this. I would save them.

But then Gleb moved.

Not with anger. Not with haste. But with the slow, measured steps of a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to run.

He didn’t have to say anything.

The air around us shifted, thick with a silent threat.

Matteo knew it too. His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The defiance in his eyes warred with something else. Something that made my stomach twist.

Fear.

I had never seen Matteo afraid before.

Gleb stopped beside me and reached for my wrist, his fingers cold as steel. “Enough.”

I turned to face him, my body tensed. “Let them go.”

He studied me, his face impassive. “No.”

Frustration burned through my veins. “They don’t belong here. They’re not soldiers, they’re…”

“They’re men of your bloodline,” he cut in smoothly. “That makes them a liability.”

I bit back a scream. He was toying with me. He knew damn well they weren’t a threat to him, but he kept them caged like animals just to prove a point.

“They’re my family,” I whispered, my voice raw.

Gleb tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wavering. “Everyone related to your family, to your mother, deserves worse than this.”

A slow, unbearable silence settled between us.

Matteo’s grip on my hand tightened again. “He’s not a man, Anna,” he said in Italian, voice shaking with restrained rage. “He’s a monster.”

Gleb let out a quiet, almost amused hum. “That’s true.”

I jerked my arm free from his grasp, my breath ragged. “I will get them out,” I said again, my voice firmer this time. “One way or another.”

Gleb held my stare for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver key.

For a split second, hope flared in my chest.

But then he tossed it to the floor, just outside the cell.

Matteo’s eyes narrowed. He took a step back, shoulders squared, refusing to scramble for it like a beaten dog.

But Vincenzo moved. He crouched down, fingers curling around the key. His hands trembled as he straightened, eyes flicking between me and Gleb.

And then, without a word, he walked to the cell door and slid the key into the lock.

A sick feeling twisted in my gut.

Something was wrong.

The lock clicked, and the cell door creaked open.

Matteo stiffened. “What are you doing?”

Vincenzo didn’t answer.

Salvatore was silent, his expression unreadable.

Then, in one slow movement, Vincenzo stepped out.

Gleb smiled. “Good choice.”

I felt the ground beneath me tilt.

No.

No, no, no.

“This isn’t freedom,” I choked out, my chest tightening. “This is a deal.”

Vincenzo met my gaze, his expression cold. “It’s survival.”

Matteo let out a sharp, angry breath. “Don’t do this.”

But Vincenzo had already moved past me, stopping in front of Gleb.

A long pause.

Then, without hesitation, he sank to one knee.

The breath rushed from my lungs.

Gleb reached out, placing a firm hand on his head, a silent, chilling gesture of acceptance.

Vincenzo had just pledged himself to the Krasnogorsk Bratva

I turned to Matteo, my heart breaking at the fury in his eyes.

Salvatore hadn’t moved, but his silence was deafening.

Gleb finally spoke. “Your cousin understands what it takes to survive. You should be grateful.”

Grateful.

I was going to be sick.

“You promised,” I whispered, voice shaking.

His gaze snapped to mine. “I promised you’d see them.” His lips curled into something cruel. “Not that you’d like what you saw.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But I couldn’t.

Because this was exactly what he had intended.

To show me that even when he gave, he still took more.

A lesson. A warning.

And worst of all, proof that no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, the people I loved would break before he ever would.

I turned away from him, swallowing down the grief clawing at my throat.

Matteo was watching me, his eyes burning with the same unspoken words that had been on my tongue for months.

This is my fault.

I swore to protect them.

And I failed.

A hand touched my lower back, startling me.

Gleb.

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Let’s go.”

I hesitated, my feet refusing to move. But what choice did I have?

I turned away from the cell, away from Matteo’s fury and Salvatore’s silence.

As we walked down the dim corridor, my hands clenched into fists.

Gleb thought he had won.

That he had crushed me.

But he hadn’t.

He had only lit the fire.

Because if I had to burn this world down to save what was left of my family, I would.

“You’ve kept them there for three years,” I said, my voice low but shaking. “Why show them to me now?”

Gleb didn’t look back. “Because I wanted to see how much you’d beg.”

I clenched my fists, anger burning through me. Then, without another word, he led me inside the lounge.

He didn’t speak as he led me inside. The guards who had trailed us like phantoms since the prison cell now stood stationed by the door, silent sentinels to whatever was about to happen.

A small fireplace crackled in the corner of the lounge, casting flickering shadows against the dark-paneled walls. The space was richly decorated, deep leather chairs, a decanter of dark amber liquid on a polished table but it felt suffocating. Or maybe that was just the weight of Gleb’s fury pressing into me.

I turned to face him. “What was the point of that?” My voice was sharp, my body still vibrating with the shock of Vincenzo’s betrayal.

Gleb pulled off his gloves one by one, his movements precise, controlled. “You needed to see the truth.”

I took a step closer, the fury bubbling inside me making my limbs shake. “And what truth is that?”

“That loyalty is fragile.” He tossed his gloves onto the table and leaned back against the edge of it, watching me with the same cold amusement that always made me want to scream. “That your family will choose survival over you.”

My hands clenched at my sides. “You forced them into this!”

He arched his brow. “Did I?”

I hated how calm he was, how every word dripped with condescension.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Matteo will never kneel to you.”

“Matteo is a fool.” His voice was quiet but sharp enough to cut. “And you’d do well to stop clinging to dead ideals. It only makes your suffering worse.”

My nails dug into my palms. “Why did you bring me there?”

Gleb sighed, as if I was exhausting him. “Because I wanted you to understand what happens when you play at defiance. It doesn’t break me, Anna. It only breaks the things you care about.”

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

I wanted to hit him. To claw at his face. To make him feel something, anything, other than that infuriating coldness.

Instead, I forced myself to meet his gaze. “And what do you care? You don’t need me. You have your control, your power.”

“I need an heir.” His voice was a whip-crack against my skin.

A sharp, painful silence followed.

His meaning settled between us like a heavy stone.

I had known this, of course. It had been the sole reason for this marriage, to give him a son, to seal the alliance.

But hearing him say it like that… so clinical, so detached… made my stomach turn.

I took a slow breath, trying to steady myself. “And if I don’t?”

Gleb’s jaw tensed.

“You will,” he said simply. “When I’m ready.”

The certainty in his voice sent a chill through me.

But I pushed forward, desperation clawing at my throat.

“My brothers,” I whispered.

His expression didn’t change.

“Please.” My voice cracked. “Let them go. Matteo, Salvatore, they aren’t threats to you anymore.”

Gleb exhaled slowly, rubbing his fingers together as if contemplating something tedious. “I don’t think you understand, printsessa. They are only alive because of you.”

A lump formed in my throat. “Then let them go.”

“No.”

The word struck like a slap.

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to step closer, my pride shriveling with every inch. “I’ll…” My voice wavered. I swallowed hard. “I’ll do what you want.”

His head tilted slightly, his icy gaze dragging over my face. “You already will do what I want.”

My breath came out ragged. “Then tell me what I have to do to make you let them go.”

A trace of something unreadable flashed in his eyes, something I couldn’t name.

Then, in a slow, deliberate movement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring.

It wasn’t delicate or ornate.

It was a heavy gold band, thick and unmistakably Russian stamped with the emblem of his family. A symbol of power. Of ownership.

I stared at it, my breath caught in my throat.

“Put it on,” he said.

I didn’t move.

His gaze darkened. “Now.”

A twisted sort of defiance surged inside me. “And if I don’t?”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

Then, before I could react, he grabbed my left hand, pried my fingers apart, and forced the ring onto my finger.

The cold metal burned against my skin.

“There,” he murmured. “Now you officially belong to me.”

I yanked my hand back, my breath ragged, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“You think this means anything?” I hissed.

Gleb’s eyes gleamed. “It means everything.”

His words felt like chains locking around my throat.

I tried to tear the ring off, but he caught my wrist before I could. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was unshakable.

A shudder ran through me.

Slowly, he let go of my wrist.

Without another word, he turned away, grabbed the decanter from the table, and poured himself a glass.

Then, in one smooth motion, he hurled the glass against the wall.

The shatter echoed through the room.

I flinched, my breath catching.

Gleb didn’t look at me.

“My driver will take you home. Go Anna,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard. “What?”

“I have no interest in dealing with your dramatics tonight.”

My nails dug into my palms. “You…”

“Go.”

The command rang through the room, final and unwavering.

For a second, I considered pushing him further.

But there was something in his posture, something tight and coiled, as if he were on the edge of something dangerous.

So, without another word, I turned on my heel and left.

The last thing I heard before the doors closed behind me was the sound of glass crunching beneath his boot.

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