Sweet Deception: Chapter 9

ANNA

The door opened, and my heart jumped. My breath caught as I watched, every muscle in my body tensed. But when Gleb stepped inside, relief flooded through me. He dropped the box he was holding by his side, his gaze settling on me for a long, unreadable moment before shifting to Zoya, who had already risen to her feet.

“Thank God you’re here, Gleb,” Zoya said, taking a step forward.

“You’ll give me the details later,” he replied, his voice calm but laced with something darker.

Zoya nodded. “Of course.” Then, without another word, she left the room.

Gleb walked toward me, his every step slow, deliberate. When he reached me, he tilted my chin up with his fingers. His expression remained unreadable, his dark eyes a mask I couldn’t penetrate.

“Your uncle said he’s coming back for me,” I whispered, desperate, “Please, help me. I don’t want him to take me. I’m scared. He said he’d let other men take turns on me.” My voice cracked as I repeated Antonio’s sickening threat.

His hand slid to the side of my head, his fingers brushing against the raw, open wound. “My uncle did this to you?” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but the menace beneath it sent a shiver down my spine.

I nodded. My throat felt tight, my emotions raw.

He stood, running a hand down his face, as if trying to shake off the rage simmering inside him. Then, as if remembering something, he turned back and pulled a box from his pocket. “I couldn’t find the Italian cheese you like anywhere in Russia.” His voice was quieter now. “Mexico had it.”

I blinked. “You… you went all that way for me?”

He exhaled sharply, setting the box on my lap without answering. His gaze darkened again.

I swallowed, emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “Thank you so much.”

“No.” He exhaled sharply, “Don’t thank me. I failed you as a husband.” His fists clenched at his sides. “How dare another man come into my house and lay hands on my wife?”

My chest tightened at his words.

“If you’d seen me before I cleaned up…” I swallowed hard. “I was a mess.”

Gleb shut his eyes for a moment before running his fingers through my damp hair. “It won’t happen again.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze pinning me in place. “That’s a promise.”

The warmth of his fingers against my scalp sent a shiver down my spine.

“I might not be able to walk again,” I admitted. “He kicked me so hard in my legs.”

“You’ll walk.” His grip on my leg tightened slightly, as if testing its strength. “I’ll get the best doctor in the city.”

He took my legs in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle as he caressed them, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin.

“Do you have an appetite?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I feel weak… feverish.”

Gleb nodded and pulled out his phone. He made a call, his voice sharp and commanding as he spoke in Russian. I didn’t understand everything, but I knew he was speaking to a doctor.

I swallowed hard. “Your uncle pushed me down the…”

“Don’t tell me,” he interrupted. “I’ll check the CCTV footage.”

Gleb’s grip on my chin tightened just slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “He said he’s coming back?” His voice was dangerously low, the kind that promised death.

I nodded. “He threatened to let his men take turns on me.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. He exhaled slowly, then turned away, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Find Antonio,” he said, his tone like ice. He ended the call without another word, his fingers clenching into fists.

“What… what are you going to do to him?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“You think I’ll let him live?” Gleb’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “He laid hands on my wife. He’ll die knowing he damned his entire bloodline.”

I flinched. “Gleb…”

“That will be a warning to anyone who tries to touch what belongs to me.” He turned away, his muscles tight with tension.

I didn’t dare say another word. The depth of his anger frightened me.

My gaze fell on the box of cheese. Even though I’d lost my appetite earlier, the familiar scent made my stomach churn with hunger. Hesitantly, I picked up a piece, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

I stole a glance at Gleb. His head was lowered, his fists still clenched. Even in his silence, his fury was palpable. I had thought he wouldn’t care what happened to me. But now, I knew, he cared.

And he would destroy anyone who hurt me.

But at what cost? Wouldn’t this cause a divide in his family?

I shivered, my thoughts in turmoil. And yet, beneath all the fear and uncertainty, something else stirred within me. When he touched my face earlier, his fingers had sent warmth straight to my soul, something soothing and… intimate. And when he ran his fingers through my hair…

A shudder ran through me. Every touch of his has an effect on me that I can’t explain.

Every day, I try to hate him.

Every day, I fail.

I crave his presence. My body longs for his touch. And at night, when I close my eyes, I dream of him… of us.

How can I be falling for a man who hates me?

The sound of his phone ringing pulled me from my thoughts. He answered briefly. “Let her in.”

A moment later, the door opened, and a woman in a crisp nurse’s uniform entered.

“I want my wife fully recovered as soon as possible,” Gleb said.

“Understood, sir.” The nurse stepped in, her gaze landing on me, and instantly, her smile faltered. “God, you’re bruised all over,” she murmured, kneeling beside me. “I’ll be gentle.”

The nurse pressed gently on my legs, watching my reaction carefully. A sharp pain shot up my thigh, making me wince.

“Your muscles are in shock from the trauma,” she said, standing back up. “With treatment, you should regain some movement in a week or two. But you’ll need physical therapy. it won’t be instant.”

My stomach dropped. A week or two. The idea of being completely immobile for that long made my throat tighten.

She scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it out. Without a word, Gleb reached out and took the paper from her hands, tucking it into his suit pocket.

I blushed but quickly looked away.

“Mr. Gleb, I’ll take my leave now.”

Gleb didn’t even glance at her as she walked out.

I looked at him, my heart full of unspoken emotions. “Thank you, Gleb.”

His head turned sharply. “Mr. Gleb.”

I clenched my fists. “I’m your wife. How can you expect me to address you as Mr. Gleb?”

His expression hardened, but something flickered in his eyes, hesitation? Doubt? “Because this marriage is not real. It never will be.”

My chest ached, but I refused to let him see how much his words stung. “So why did you go to Mexico for me?”

He stiffened. A long silence stretched between us. Then, with a voice lower than before, he muttered, “Because I wanted to.”

His expression hardened. “We are not a real couple, Anna.” His voice was like steel. “Don’t forget that.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

If he had said this weeks ago, I wouldn’t have cared. But now?

Now, it hurts.

I forced a tight smile, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Right. Wouldn’t want to get too comfortable, would we?” I shoved the cheese aside, suddenly sick of the taste.

Gleb stood and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the gun holstered at his back.

“What did you do while I was gone?” he asked, pulling off his shirt.

“Read novels. Watched TV. What else am I supposed to do? You’ve locked me in here like a caged bird.”

“You don’t want to continue your dance classes?”

“No. I’ll resume after this marriage is over.”

His fingers stilled on his shirt. A brief emotion flashed across his face.

He says we’ll part ways someday. That this will all end once I bear him a child.

But if that’s true, why does every touch, every glance, pull me deeper into something I can’t escape?

And worse… something I don’t want to escape.

“There’s a dance center not far from here,” Gleb said. “If you want, I can assign a driver to take you there for your classes.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “And risk you killing all my instructors? You’re a psychopath who can’t stand anyone touching me. I wouldn’t want to put anyone’s life in danger.”

“There won’t be any male tutors. You know I would never allow that. The instructors are women, but even that concerns me. I considered bringing them here, but I don’t like the idea of strangers in my home.”

I arched my brow. “Strangers? Or women who might lust after you?”

His lips curled slightly, not quite a smirk. “That isn’t my concern.”

“But you wouldn’t lust after them?” The question left my lips before I could stop it.

His gaze darted to mine, dark and unreadable. “No. I don’t lust after what Isn’t mine.”

A silence stretched between us. My chest tightened, though I wasn’t sure why. “What isn’t yours ?” I repeated softly.

His expression didn’t change. “That is what I said.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I need to take a shower.” He turned toward the bathroom.

A reckless part of me wanted to push him further. “Can we shower together?”

He stopped. Turned. His piercing gaze locked onto mine.

“I thought you already bathed.”

“Zoya helped me, yes. But is it a crime if I want to bathe with my husband?” My voice was calm, but I knew exactly what I was doing.

Gleb was many things. Ruthless, controlling, impossibly cold, but romantic? Not even close. The idea of intimacy repelled him, and I knew that. But part of me wanted to see if I could crack the ice, if only for a moment.

His lips parted slightly, then pressed back into a thin line. “I haven’t seen you naked before.”

I raised a brow. “And?”

He exhaled through his nose, voice dropping. “You know what will happen if we do this.”

“What will happen?” I tilted my head, feigning innocence.

His voice was a low growl. “I might be tempted to fuck you.”

I swallowed hard. The way he said it, like it was a threat, made my skin tingle. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t.”

I shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his eyes darkened, the way his body tensed, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

A tense silence stretched between us. His gaze swept over me, unreadable, assessing. Then, his expression shifted, something colder creeping in.

His gaze was unreadable. “Your father sent you here to die.”

The words hit me harder than they should have.

“What?”

He crossed the room in three slow steps. “Your sister didn’t run away on her own, Anna. Your father staged it. He knew what kind of man I was, knew the risks. So instead of sending his precious Maria, he sent you.”

I felt my breath hitch. “No. That’s not true.”

Gleb didn’t argue. He just watched me, as if waiting for the realization to settle in.

My stomach twisted. Had my father really done that? Had I been nothing more than a disposable pawn in his game?

I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “You claim to hate me, yet you investigate me.”

His lips curved into something resembling amusement. “I was raised to protect what belongs to me.”

My pulse pounded. “I’m not your property, Gleb. I am your wife.”

His eyes darkened. “You are both.”

Before I could protest, he crouched down, his arms sliding beneath me. I gasped as he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me toward the bathroom.

“Gleb…”

“You can’t walk.” His voice was soft but firm. “Let me take care of you.”

The warmth of his body against mine made my breath hitch. I was too stunned to argue as he carried me into the large marble bathroom.

He set me down carefully near the edge of the tub, kneeling before me. His face was unreadable as his fingers reached for the hem of my top.

“You need help undressing.”

My throat went dry. The air between us felt charged, dangerous. I had pushed him, taunted him, but now? Now I wasn’t sure I was ready for whatever this was.

His fingers brushed my skin as he lifted my top over my head, leaving me in just my bra.

I inhaled sharply, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself. It was stupid. I knew that, but something about this moment, about the way his gaze flickered down my body, made my skin prickle with heat.

His expression remained blank. “Shy now?”

I wanted to deny it, to throw back another sharp remark, but for once, I didn’t have words.

He exhaled and stood, stripping off his own shirt.

My breath caught.

I had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never this close, this deliberate. His body was all muscle, broad, powerful, and laced with scars that told a hundred stories I’d never heard.

He turned on the water, steam rising between us.

And then he reached for me again.

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