Chapter 9 I Have To Earn It

Dusan

Julie-the waitress sat on the bed watching me as I paced around the room, I know she itched to say something but held back.

What was I thinking when I offered Leni to Volkov and what am I doing here?

"You should come to bed." Julie finally spoke, batting her eyelids and for the life of me I wanted to pluck them out. But it wasn't her fault, this wasn't anyone else's fault but mine.

I took out my phone to call Viktor when it rang, his name across my phone screen.

"Speak." "Leni has been arrested for assaulting Sergei." A wide smile spread across my face, my little princess, I couldn't help the pride that filled my heart.

I turned to Julie. Throwing a wad of cash at her with a smile still planted on my face as I rushed down to the station. i was not sure what to tell my little damsel or how to act around her, I just hope to God that she forgave me.

Leni's face was stained with tears and guilt gripped my heart, I ran towards the officers office and got her bailed out.

She walked towards the car quiet, a little too quiet that it made me want to punch myself in the gut.

"How did you get arrested, Leni. Less than an hour and you're already caused havoc." Smooth Dusan.

Leni didn't bother to look at me or even respond, every remark I made was met with silence. Something I didn't expect from her, she was a talker.

She loved to express her anger, to show her hurt but right now she was mute. What have I done. I wanted to break her, to have her submit and be mine fully but I didn't want it to be like this. As we pulled over at the mansion, she ran out of the car and straight towards her room. I made to follow her when Viktor stopped me.

"There's an issue boss." I nodded towards the study and he followed suit.

"Leni attacked Sergei, and he's currently at the hospital receiving treatment. You posting her bail makes it seem like a planned attack on Volkov."

Fuck. I hadn't been thinking when anything happened.

"Is Boris aware yet?" Boris Ivanovich was my uncle, more brutal and feared than I am. If I didn't handle this myself Leni would be dead before I am able to snap my fingers.

"That's where the issue lies." "Damn it." I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of the situation finally crashing down on me.

"We need to handle Volkov, and fast." "He's expecting you, sir. He wishes to discuss the... accident."

Viktor's tone was tight, a clear indication of the precariousness of the situation. I nodded, a grim resolve settling over me.

"Let's not keep him waiting."

****

The air in Volkov's private study was thick with the aroma of cigars and subtle threats. I sat across from him, the polished desk was the only barrier between us.

Volkov's face, still bearing the faint mark of Leni's assault, was filled with cold fury. "Nikolac," he growled, his voice a low rumble, "the escort, your escort attacked me without a cause."

I met his gaze, unflinching. "She acted rashly," I replied, my voice calm, "a regrettable mistake on my part. One that will not be repeated and I am prepared to offer compensation." I slid a thick envelope across the desk, containing the maps for our hidden routes.

Volkov's eyes flickered to it, but he didn't touch it. "Compensation?" he scoffed, his voice laced with amusement. "Nikolac, you misunderstand. I don't want whatever is in that envelope. I want Leni, I want to make her feel the same pain she made me feel."

A coldness sank in my gut, my muscles tightened at the thought of him touch *my* Leni. "Leni is not am item to be traded," I said, my voice low and dangerous.

"She is under my protection and I was at fault for even putting her in such a situation with you."

Volkov's smile widened, revealing the disgusting thought in his eyes. "Protection? Or possession?" He leaned forward, his voice a low growl. "I want her, Nikolac. It's a simple exchange or is she something more to you?"

The calm I'd been holding on to broke. Before I knew it, I was on my feet, the desk overturned, the sound of broken wood echoed in the room. Volkov's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in anger.

I grabbed him by the collar, my fist connecting with his jaw, the force of the blow sending him stumbling backward.

"She is mine," I snarled, my voice a low growl, "and no one touches what is mine."

I didn't stop there, the next few moments were a blur of rage, I barely registered until Volkov lay, broken, on the floor.

I turned to Viktor, who stood, a silent witness to the carnage.

"Clean this up. And make sure my uncle remains uninformed."

Back at the mansion, the silence was a heavy, nearly suffocating me. I knew I had to try, to break through the wall I made Leni erect. Before I got out of bed, Leni had gone to work.

I rubbed my face in frustration. What the hell am I suppised to do now. Then a thought ran through my head my hands trembled slightly as I picked up my phone, calling the florist. I bought flowers-tulips, they were Leni's favourite.

A small bouquet of deep purple tulips, delivered to her workplace. I chose them specifically, remembering our conversation years ago, a brief moment where she'd mentioned how majestic they looked, how they reminded her of her grandmother's garden. The florist had arranged them beautifully, with a mix of open blooms and closed buds, symbolizing, I hoped, the possibility of our growth and a renewal of the trust between us. I decided to personally write the note, Leni was a sentimental. As I picked up the pen to write my hands trembled and the ink was slightly smudged from my sweaty palms, read:

*"I remembered you mentioned the exhibit at the art museum. I've included tickets. would you love to go together? No pressure at all, it is just an offer." D*

All day all I could picture was her reaction when she receieved them, I imagined her getting the flowers at her desk, surrounded by colleagues. Would she smile? Would her eyes soften? Or would she simply toss them aside? My stomach churned with a mixture of hopeful dread.

Later that evening, I prepared dinner, her favorite meal; pan-seared salmon with asparagus, a light lemon sauce, just the way she liked it. I even attempted a lemon tart for dessert, my clumsy fingers nearly burnt as I tried to follow the recipe.

The kitchen, often arranged and in order was now in complete mess, flour and spilled ingredients could be seen everywhere. Rafeala will set me ablaze once she sees the state of the kitchen. I set the table carefully, a soft candlelight reflecting off the polished silverware, the flickering flames cast a small dancing shadows on the walls. I was a wreck, adjusting my tie for the fifth time as I waited for her, my hands moist.

She entered the dining room, her gaze sweeping over the table, then settling on me. Her expression was unreadable, as she walked back into her room. I was about to clean up the table when she came back in.

Without looking at me or even acknowledging my presence, she sat back down, eating a few bites, her movements mechanical.

I was nearly losing my mind, I need her soft voice to fill this house again. I needed her smile to make my heart beat right. All it did lately was beat rapidly without following a particular rhythm