A Sense of Duty (Volkov Bratva #2) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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Chapter Two

Adelaide

Andrei, of course, lived in luxury. He was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

His penthouse apartment was in the nicest part of the city. I hated heights and he thought it was fun to have floor-to-ceiling windows. Just going within a foot of them made me feel dizzy.

I’d been married to him for one week. In that time, I’d seen him once. I think he came home at night. I’m not sure because I’ve been left in his penthouse to do nothing.

There was no guard, unless you counted the one outside my door, who wouldn’t let me leave. I’d tried. Multiple times. I’d explored every single inch of his penthouse suite, boycotting his office and his side of the walk-in closet. I didn’t need to see or smell more of him than necessary.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I kept my back to the windows that overlooked the city. I’d tried to get closer and that had been laughable. I got to the footmark and ended up on my stomach, attempting to crawl closer to see if I could stomach looking out the window. It didn’t work.

My fear of heights was so strong I’d even changed his sitting room around. The sofa was placed so when I watched television, my back was to the window. If the curtains weren’t open before I got up, they stayed shut.

All this time trapped inside the penthouse was driving me crazy. I was going out of my mind. Growing up, I’d never stayed indoors and always preferred to be outside.

I missed the animal shelter. This apartment was boring.

Collapsing on the sofa, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered if it would cave in. Would I be able to make my escape? I’d even thought about baking a batch of brownies that had sleeping tablets in them, but I didn’t have any tablets. Also, I’m not the kind of person to feed drugs to an unsuspecting person.

I was going to die of boredom. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to. I thought I’d at least be able to talk to Aurora, the kind woman I’d met at the wedding, but nope.

No cell phone. No laptop. Nothing. Just an empty penthouse apartment. I saw the small library he had, but reading right now felt like I was giving into temptation. I loved reading, but that wasn’t what I wanted to do.

I wanted to go out and explore. Find a different animal shelter a little closer to home, and volunteer.

This was a prison. Worse than the one my parents tried to force on me.

At the sound of the main door opening, I jerked up, a little startled. No one had come home during the day. Fear clawed its way inside me. Should I stand up? Stay seated? He didn’t give me any chores to complete. Nothing that would make my life worthwhile.

Andrei entered the main room and glanced over at me. “Get dressed. We’re going out to dinner in an hour.”

“We are?” I asked.

My voice sounded croaky even to myself.

“Yes.”

Nibbling my lip, I had so many questions but the fear of being forced to stay in this apartment was too much. I needed to get out. To feel the sun on my skin, or what was left of it. I’d even accept the cold bitterness of nighttime, just so long as I was out of this apartment.

Scrambling to my feet, I rushed into our bedroom. When I arrived a week ago, I found my side of the walk-in closet had been filled with clothes that my husband found acceptable. I don’t know if he shopped for everything or instructed a woman to do so. Looking through the clothes, I couldn’t pick the right one, so I settled on a dark-blue dress with a low neckline and a split up one side of the skirt. A little risqué for my taste but the most modest one available to me.

I hummed to myself as I went into the bathroom, and took a quick shower. After washing my body, I blow-dried my hair to give it some bounce and body. I have long brown hair that falls to my waist. Most of the time, I pull it back in a ponytail. Just recently, I’d been leaving it down.

Entering the bedroom, I see the dress I picked had been changed. In its place is a red one that ends at the knee. There’s a slit at the side, which would reveal a lot more thigh than I wanted, and it was figure-hugging as well.

One day I’d given myself a little fashion show to see how much I loved or hated the dresses, and most of them I hated.

This wasn’t good. I didn’t want to wear this dress. The lingerie I’d pulled out was also gone. In its place was a red thong.



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