Chapter 5

Sasha's Pov 

Agnes led me to the car as other people rushed out of the hall. I was used to the whole thing so I wasn't bothered by it. 

I hopped into the car and sat down in the backseat while Agnes took the front seat with the driver. We waited for several minutes before Roman returned slamming the door shut. 

He ordered the driver to go. 

I watched from the corner of my eye as he wiped his hand with a white napkin, crimson smearing the napkin. 

I sighed looking out the window watching the trees we swiveled past, we got home and alighted from the car, Castile was waiting outside looking agitated. 

It was when Roman walked past me that I noticed blood trickling down his left arm from under his suit leaving a trail of blood, my eyes widened. 

He was shot? 

He looked normal as if nothing happened. 

I followed Castiles upstairs to his room and watched him take off his suit jacket, now I understand why he was always wearing black instead of white but judging from how his shirt stuck to his left shoulder it was obvious that was where he was wounded. 

A warm feeling of satisfaction washed over me as he took off the sleeve revealing his inked broad chest, I leaned on the wall as Castile rushed to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. 

My lips stretched into a smirk that wiped off my face the moment Castile returned, Roman sat on the bed pouring alcohol on the bullet wound, his face contorted in an irritated expression. 

"Boss?" Castile called. 

"Let my wife handle it, you can go now" He ordered and it took me a whole minute to understand he was talking about me. 

Right. I forget we are married sometimes. 

I forced a smile at Castile and he nodded, then left the kit beside his boss on the bed before leaving. I approached him cautiously, taking the kit. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time I was tending to his wounds, he always made me do it whenever I was around, I cursed internally regretting why I didn't leave the moment he was brought here. 

But that would make me look like I don't care even if I don't really care, I have to put up with the submissive wife facade. I could feel his eyes on me as I dressed the wound. 

"Does it hurt?" I asked feigning concern. 

"No" He replied in a hoarse voice and I tried not to smile as I tightened the bandage. 

After I finished I started putting the kits away when he reached out and cupped my chin, his fingers were cold and I shuddered forcing my eyes to meet his intense gaze. 

"Did you like it?" He questioned and I blinked in confusion. 

"Uhm... Like- like what?" I sputtered, taken aback by his question. 

Did he notice me smirking earlier? 

"The gala, you don't seem like you enjoyed it" He replied. 

"Well I didn't stay long enough to enjoy it," I remarked and he let go of my chin. 

"Your father called again, he says your mother wants to see you," He said and I scowled. 

The thing is I don't want to see them, ever again. And each time he asks I always refuse, to them he is the one who won't let them see their daughter. 

"Maybe next week, I have some things I need to sort out this week" I lied even though I know he must have caught on to my tricks. 

"I can't keep giving them excuses, mia cara, perhaps you should call them and tell them yourself" He retorted. 

"I will" 

I will not. I don't even have their contact on my phone anymore. 

"Get some rest," He said and I nodded before taking the first aid kit to the bathroom. I was halfway to the door when he called me back. 

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" He probed, I veered towards him, he held the remote control of his TV in his hand, I watched as he pressed a button and his TV emerged from the wall. 

My heart threatened to burst out of my ribcage thumping so loudly I was afraid he could hear. 

"I don't want to disturb you-"

"Stay" He interrupted and I swallowed a heavy lump in my throat, we've never shared a bed in our two years of marriage. 

He usually lets me be even on our wedding night. He hardly acknowledged me and now he wants to share a bed?! 

I schooled my expression and nodded. 

"I need to change though, I can't sleep in this" I pointed out, the itchy material was starting to irritate my sensitive skin. 

He waved off dismissively and I practically ran out of the room, when I got to my room I almost collapsed on the ground. 

What the fuck am I supposed to do in this situation? 

I don't want his bloody hands on me. 

I bathed and wore my nightwear, I chose a bright yellow robe making sure it looked hideous on me. I left for his room and met him still sitting on the spot I left him, a glass of vodka in his hand while he watched TV. The news anchor was talking about what had happened at the gala today. 

I made my way to the bed and lay down pulling the duvet over me. I pretended to be asleep when he stood up a few minutes after and left for the bathroom. 

I swear to God I will kill him if he tries to touch me, I cringed thinking about it. My eyes were closed as he came back but I could hear him moving around, I didn't know when I drifted off to sleep while waiting for him to make a move. 

I woke up the next morning, wondering why my alarm didn't wake me up. Then I felt a tight grip shrouded around my waist, I froze feeling someone behind me. 

I recalled where I spent the night. 

I turned slowly and there he was sleeping soundly like he didn't kill sixteen men last night, he looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes shut, his chest rising and falling. 

I don't know how long I was staring but I was beginning to get comfortable enough to move closer, he looked so handsome. 

Too handsome it's almost distracting, he's a cold bastard who kills people on a daily basis, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even have a soul. 

"Are you going to keep staring or do something about it?" He asked in a smoky husky voice, his eyes still closed. 

I gasped in shock as his eyelids fluttered open, those steel-like orbs were fixated on me