“Artem,” Anna whispers, watching Rocky but talking to me.
“Yes?”
“Who are you?”
I smirk, the question is so broad, but then she turns to me and I see the seriousness of her expression.
“I mean, I know who you are, on paper. I know that you’re Artem Elgort, leader of the Bratva. But up until yesterday, I thought you might be – could be – a bad man. Or a cut-and-dry criminal. But now I’ve seen this other side of you, and it just confuses the hell out of me.”
“Do you really want to know who I am?” I say, voice low, mind swimming as I wonder if I’m really going to tell her, show her.
“Of course,” she whispers.
I sigh and stand up, feeling like a small child again all of a sudden, as though these last twenty-something years never happened, as though I’m still a small scared boy waiting for the whip.
I turn and pull my T-shirt over my head.
Behind me, Anna draws in a gasp.
I know what she can see.
Rows and rows of lash marks, scars layered upon each other from my unconventional, fucked-up childhood.
“I was born in one of the most evil places in the world,” I tell her, my voice sounding dead and emotionless. Perhaps that’s the only way to deal with something like this. “In a cold, distant place in Russia, that’s where I was born, in a gulag that never stopped. My mother died in childbirth and my father died before I was born, and I was raised as a slave to a sect of fucked-up zealots who thought the world was going to end and that we, their slaves, were put here to serve them in any way they pleased.
“When I was fifteen years old, I led a rebellion. I slaughtered those who needed slaughtering. I left. I came here. I took over the Bratva and I made something of myself. I’ve tried to be a good man since then, but… I try, Anna, I really fucking try.”
I hear the tremble in my voice as I turn back around, grabbing my T-shirt and pulling it on, sitting down and watching as Rocky leaps from the fountain and starts circling it, frantically sniffing the ground.
“I’ve never told anyone that before,” I say, heaving a sigh.
Anna stands and moves to my chair, sliding down into my lap, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and bringing her face close to mine. We end up forehead to forehead, staring directly into each other.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, smoothing her hands through my hair, down the back of my neck, the feeling pleasant, right. “That’s awful. But you survived, Artem. You survived.”
“So did you,” I growl with passion, hugging her tight to me. “Perhaps that’s another reason I feel so close to you. You haven’t had it easy, either.”
“I hardly think you can compare growing up in an orphanage and being the high school loser with what you lived through,” she says.
“Why not?” I growl. “Everyone has their struggles. I only told you mine because I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, ever.”
“In that case, you should know that my parents were junkies. Junkies who OD’d. It’s all very pedestrian compared with your struggles, Artem, but there it is.”
“You’re brave,” I tell her, kissing her lips softly. “You’ve been a Bratva warrior-queen your whole damn life, Anna. You’ve just never had a chance to let it show before.”
She hugs me closer to her and I do the same, savoring the warmth of her, feeling like a giant invisible boot has been finally lifted from my neck.
All my life, I’ve lived with the weight of the past, pressing down on me, making me feel like that scared little boy living in the dark.
But now, with Anna, I can let it go.
I can let it go and just … just fucking be.
“That was why I hated that fucking auction,” I say. “That was why I had to have you. I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could have freed all those women. But life isn’t simple. Especially my life. It’s so complicated, sometimes, trying to do the right thing when you’re surrounded by snakes.”
“You’re a good man, Artem,” she whispers. “I won’t hear any different.”
“I try to be,” I say. “Anyway, enough of this depressing shit. I’m taking you out tonight. You’re my woman now and I’ve finally got the free time to treat you like it. I’m arranging the date of your dreams. I’m even picking out a special outfit for you.”
“And do I get to know what any of this entails, hmm?”
“Absolutely not,” I smirk.
“Ooh, mysterious.”
“Humor me,” I laugh, kissing her at the corner of the mouth.
If I kissed her properly, I’d lose control, our bodies would slide effortlessly into the lustful patterns they made last night.