No Regrets

Ksenia's POV

I blink awake amidst luxurious silk sheets. The expensive fabric glides against my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine. My entire body aches. It is a deep, lingering soreness rooted in my thighs and lower back, a hard-earned physical exhaustion from a night of mind-blowing passion. Vance could never provide this in his wildest dreams. The sheer stamina, the intense stretches of raw pleasure and deep penetration—it was something I did not even know my body was capable of enduring.

I drag my heavy eyelids open, trying to clear the thick fog of sleep from my mind. Only then do I realize I am no longer alone in the bed. Well, I left the warmth of his shifting body, but the spot beside me is now empty. I shift my gaze across the massive, sprawling bedroom. Nikolai stands across the room by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, bare-chested. The early morning light spills over his broad shoulders and the carved muscles of his back. He exudes a lethal, commanding authority even when doing nothing. He wears only his dark dress trousers, his hands anchored in his pockets as he stares out at the sweeping city skyline.

Just looking at him makes my skin tingle. I can still vividly feel the heavy weight of him crushing me into this mattress. But the bright morning sun serves as a harsh reminder of my actual reality. Reality comes crashing down upon me in suffocating waves. I am a woman tied to a failing marriage, and I have a disabled brother to care for. I have to protect both myself and Nolan from wealthy, dangerous predators like Nikolai Sokolov. These powerful men chew normal people up and spit them out without a second thought.

I force my throbbing muscles to cooperate. I get out of the warm bed, shivering as the cool air hits my naked body. I scramble to gather my clothes scattered across the wooden floor. Pulling my dress back on quickly, I zip it up with fumbling fingers and snatch my purse from the velvet armchair. My heart races as I prepare to slip out without a word.

"You can stay if you want. You are tired." Nikolai's thick Russian accent shatters the morning silence.

I freeze in my tracks, my fingers tightening painfully around the leather strap of my purse. Turning around, I force myself to meet his heavy, evaluating gaze. His red eyes look intense against the muted morning light in the room.

"Thank you, but I should leave now." I decline his offer without hesitation.

"My driver will drop you off." He does not move a muscle, his expression remaining an unreadable stone mask.

"Thank you, Mr. Sokolov, but I will manage just fine on my own." I refuse his follow-up offer instantly. Taking any more favors or rides from a dangerous man like him feels too much like signing a contract in blood. I head toward the heavy oak door.

"Do you regret last night, Doc?"

His question forces me to stop again. I square my shoulders, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. I meet his intense eyes with confidence, refusing to cower.

"No. I do not regret it at all, Mr. Sokolov. It was my decision, and I was fully aware of the consequences. But let me make this clear. This was strictly a one-time encounter. I hope this will be our final meeting."

His handsome features remain an unreadable stone mask, showing zero hint of confirming or denying my request. I pull the heavy door open and walk out of his penthouse. The click of the lock shutting behind me echoes in the quiet hallway. I stride down the corridor toward the private elevator, trying desperately to shake the lingering heat off my damp skin.

Fifty minutes later, I am stepping out of a cab in front of Vance’s upscale apartment building. I brace my nerves for the inevitable domestic nightmare that waits upstairs. Unlocking the front door, I step into the expansive living room and am greeted by an infuriating sight. Darya is parading around the kitchen wearing one of my favorite silk blouses as if she owns the place. She is perched comfortably on a bar stool, and Vance stands right next to her, pouring her a drink and tending to her every whim as though she were made of fragile spun glass.

Bile rises burning hot in my throat. I reach up, hastily adjusting my stiff collar to conceal the dark hickeys blooming across my neck. If Vance spots those purple bruises, he will create a scene of epic, violent proportions. Not that he actually cares about my fidelity or loves me, but his fragile male ego cannot handle a single scratch on his pride.

Vance snaps his head toward me, a deep scowl carving lines into his forehead. He slams the pitcher onto the granite counter.

"Where the hell were you the entire night?" He barks the demand, glaring at me with suspicion.

His hypocrisy astounds me. His pregnant mistress is sitting right there, sipping a beverage in my expensive clothes, yet he dares to question my whereabouts with a straight face.

"I was at the hospital. An urgent patient required emergency surgery that kept me in the operating room until dawn." I smoothly lie through my teeth, maintaining a deadpan, bored expression.

Vance scoffs loudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Whatever. Get ready for work. I am leaving in fifteen minutes, and you need to look professional. And by the way, I hope you finalized all the arrangements for our upcoming anniversary party. My father is expecting a flawless event, and I need him impressed. Do not mess this up."

My exhausted patience snaps like a dry twig. After a night of having my body bent, claimed, and wrecked in Nikolai's bed, I refuse to be treated like a mindless servant by this pathetic excuse for a husband. I drop my purse on the console table and march a few aggressive steps toward him.

"I am a human being, Vance! I get tired too! I have not taken a single day off in over two years for you or that hospital. You have more than enough money sitting in your bank accounts to hire a professional event planner. Let them impress your father, because I am done playing the perfect, tireless wife for your little charade!" I shout the words, my chest heaving with every ragged breath.

I point a shaking finger at his chest. "Do not bother me today."

I do not wait for his shocked rebuttal or Darya's fake gasp. I storm straight to my bedroom, step inside, and slam the heavy bedroom door shut behind me. I slide the lock into place with a sharp click.

I cross the room and tear off my clothes. The dress pools around my ankles. I kick off my underwear and step into the adjoining bathroom, turning the shower knob to hot. Stepping under the heavy stream of water, I let the scalding spray hit my skin. The water cascades over my shoulders, chest, and stomach. As the steam rises from the floor, I look down at my own body. The dark, possessive marks Nikolai left across my skin stand out starkly against the pale flesh. There are deep red bruises on the swell of my breasts, fierce bite marks trailing down my ribcage, and handprints mapping my hips.

Touching the darkest hickey on my collarbone triggers heated, vivid flashes of our tangled bodies. My mind unspools the memories faster than I can stop them. I picture the sheer size of his massive, rock-hard cock sliding deep into my wet pussy, the brutal friction driving me out of my damn mind. I clearly remember the way he gripped my hips tight, forcing my ass up against his groin while he slammed his thick shaft into my deepest internal spot, filling me to the very brim with his girth. The wet, slapping sound of his rough flesh pounding against my slick entrance echoes in my ears, bringing back my own unrestrained, wild screams. His animalistic rhythm broke me down.

I grip the slippery marble shower shelf, my legs shaking slightly at the explicit, overwhelming memory. The heavy throbbing between my thighs returns with a vengeance. I forcefully shake the thoughts from my head. I turn my face up into the running hot water, letting the heat wash away the lingering ghost of his tough hands. I am done with domestic drama, and I have no business getting addicted to a dangerous mafia kingpin's cock. I need to focus solely on self-preservation and protecting Nolan. I finish washing the scent of sex and sweat from my skin, wrap a fluffy white towel around my body, and crawl straight into the center of my cold, empty bed.

Following five exhausting hours of deep sleep, my eyes flutter open. The late afternoon light peeks through the tiny gaps in the bedroom curtains. For a brief, peaceful second, I forget the absolute mess my life has become. Then the familiar silence of this suffocating apartment settles over me. I toss the thick duvet aside and walk straight to the walk-in closet. If Vance wants to throw a ridiculous anniversary party to maintain his pristine society image, I might as well buy something that makes me look damn good, and put it on his precious credit card. I dress up to go shopping. I pull on a chic, tailored black dress that hugs my curves and slip into a pair of sharp, uncomfortable stiletto heels. Grabbing my designer clutch, I head out of the bedroom.

As I cross the sprawling marble kitchen to reach the front door, Darya steps right in front of me, purposefully blocking my path. She holds a green apple in her delicate hand, looking me up and down.

"Are you going out shopping, Ksenia? I am feeling bored sitting around today. Can I join you?" Darya asks, faking a sweet, polite tone that grates against my eardrums.

I stop walking and stare closely at her face. She expects me to play the compliant, broken wife while she parodies a fun, supportive roommate. The sheer audacity makes my blood physically boil beneath my skin. I force a cold, razor-sharp smile onto my lips.

"Do not ever talk to me like we are friends, Darya. You know exactly what our relationship is. You are currently pregnant with my husband's child." I bluntly remind her, scanning her innocent expression.

Darya drops her sweet facade for a brief second. She shifts her weight and sighs theatrically, placing a protective hand over her flat stomach.

"Ksenia, you do not have to act so bitter toward me. I know you still love Vance, and it hurts you deeply to see us together."

I step closer to her, my heels clicking sharply against the tile floor. I look her dead in the eye and cut her off with lethal precision.

"Let me correct your delusion right now, sweetheart. I used to love Vance. Staying with him at this point is strictly out of necessity. As long as you both keep your disgusting little affair away from me, I do not care what you do."

I turn on my heel and march straight out the front door into the hallway, leaving her standing speechless in the kitchen. My head begins to throb with the agonizing realization of how on earth I will survive an entire year living with them under the same roof.