All Chapters of Submit To Me: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

KATERINAWHEN I WAS A KID, brushing my hair always brought me comfort. Doing it before bed was a ritual that started before I knew what the word even meant. I'd sit on my mattress, my knees tucked beneath, music piping gently in the background, and throw my hair over my shoulder. Mom used to do it for me. She was patient—which was rare—as she ran the boar-bristled brush over my thick locks until they glowed like honey in the sun.I wish she was here to do it for me now.Mom, I hope you're okay.Stroking the brush down to the tips of my hair, I try to let it relax me, but it's not working. It was a long shot, all things considered. Too much terrible stuff has happened in such a short time. If I could just brush it away, it would be a miracle. People like me never get those.A soft tap comes at my door, and a moment later, I hear Sasha's voice on the other side."Katerina?"Sitting up, I drop my feet to the floor. What could he want at this hour? I have an idea, but I don't know if I'm

SASHASTEPPING OUT OF MY SHOES, I throw them carelessly to the far end of my bedroom. My overshirt goes next. I'm in nothing but my pants and a sleeveless undershirt when someone knocks on my door.Drawing my hand over my face, I stare at my reflection in the closet door mirror. I'm haggard, to put it politely. If it's Ulyana knocking, she's going to take one look at the messy state of my room and conclude I'm becoming a slob. Finding the energy to be tidy isn't easy. This listlessness goes beyond mere exhaustion.I'm bone-tired after my talk with Katerina. Every conversation we have feels like a battle. I'm not winning any of them, though I don't think I'd feel better if I did.The knock comes again—more insistent. Sighing, I grab the brass knob and yank. "What do you—" I stop talking. Katerina stands in front of me in a thin lavender silk robe she's thrown hastily around her shoulders. "Katerina, what's wrong?" After telling me she needed time, I expected she'd avoid me until tomorr

KATERINAEVERYONE in the house must have heard me scream. I don't know how they wouldn't—the sound is echoing off the walls, the ceiling, and bouncing back into my own ears. I could grab a pillow and muffle my cries, but I don't. Deep down I want everyone to know what we're doing. At least then there'll be proof beyond us. The world will know that, for a little while, we were happy together.Stop that ... Don't think like this is all you'll get from him. It isn't.It might be.The Bratva war isn't over. Sasha has nearly died more than once. I know there's tension between us. His need to achieve revenge and my pitiful hope that we can have a future without more bloodshed are in conflict."You're perfect," he whispers, shutting me off from my internal demons. I can't ignore his eyes darkened by lust. He holds me close, bending me to him until our ribs are interlocked. A tornado couldn't rip us apart.Little ripples vibrate through my insides. My climax has left me dazed, but it hasn't s

KATERINATHE SNOW HAS TURNED the landscape into a blank canvas. The only color in front of us is the dark swatch of road that swerves like an undulating snake. We've been driving for an hour, and in that time, we've taken turns choosing the music. Sasha's crunchy brass jazz is a severe contrast to the lilting flow of my instrumental orchestras. The songs are as different as us. In spite of that, I easily appreciate the refreshing life the jazz brings, and Sasha smiles fondly as I hum to "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship."Sasha grips the steering wheel with one hand, reclining casually in the driver's seat. You'd never guess we were fleeing from the police. He's acting like this is a drive through the country. But when he doesn't notice me looking, I catch the way he churns his jaw ... the furrow that makes his brow heavy.His free hand, placed on the middle console, flexes now and then. It's not from the rhythm of the music. Gently, I place my hand over his. Sasha starts, giving me a curiou

SASHA"TELL ME EVERYTHING," I say.I'm standing in one of the large bedrooms in the cabin. There are four, but this is the biggest. It's the only space that can comfortably fit me, Mila, and six of my brigadiers. Kostya has placed himself dead center in the room, his shoulders pulled back, head high and static. The rest sit behind him in an arrangement of chairs I've had brought in from other rooms.Mila is the only other one on her feet; she's picked the back right corner, huddling into the gap like she wants to be ignored. She keeps her arms tucked around her chest, her lips scrunched up.Kostya clears his throat. "Three days after you left, the police raided the mansion. They searched it up and down, turned it inside out, but of course, they found nothing.""I assume they interrogated the staff?" I ask."Nobody said a word, of course."Not surprising; my people are loyal down to their bone marrow. "Good. What else?"Kostya glances over at Nikolai. The lanky man jumps to his feet to