Chapter 12

Dalia

T he next evening…

I pull up to the Art Institute in an Uber, my nerves tangling up inside me. I feel out of my element in this gown—it's stunning, definitely the most extravagant thing I've ever worn. The only reason I even dared to indulge in something so luxurious was Lev's insistent message last night.

His text still burns in my memory.

Don't even glance at the price tags. Choose something that dazzles. Also, ensure your hair and makeup are done by professionals. And one more thing… visit La Seduction Lingerie.

As much as his demands frustrate me, especially with what happened yesterday afternoon, they also thrill me in a way I can’t deny. There's a part of me that revels in trying to meet his high expectations, a rush I get in satisfying his specifications.I find myself struggling to hold onto my self-declaration last night, to be nothing more than his employee. I both hate and love my reaction.

I hate that he knows just how to pull my strings, but at the same time, I love the attention he gives me, the way he makes me feel so sensual and beautiful.

I take a deep breath, ready to step out into the night that Lev has so meticulously orchestrated.

As I approach the entrance of the Art Institute, a sea of glitz greets me. Swarms of elegantly dressed people, women in luxurious and flowing gowns, men sporting sharp, tailored tuxedos, mill about. My nerves spike—I'm so out of my element here, a girl from a small town where the most exciting event is the annual Fourth of July parade.

Amidst the crowd, I spot Lev and his family, the picture of class and power. He catches sight of me and quickly strides over.

He greets me with a warmth that makes my heart race. "You look absolutely stunning, your gown selection is perfect."

I had promised myself I'd keep things strictly professional, but my resolve begins to crumble the instant I see him, all dashing and devastating in his tuxedo.

He wears it with such an air of nonchalant elegance. And that voice… that voice that always sends shivers down my spine, it's unfair how quickly he can make me forget my own rules.

Lev guides me through the crowd, his hand lightly resting on my lower back. "How are you holding up?" he asks.

"I'm fine," I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. Part of me clings to the hope he'll apologize for his abrupt departure yesterday, for the cold distance that seemed to spring up out of nowhere. But he doesn't mention it. Instead, he's all smiles, as if eager to sweep past any lingering tension between us.

"There's someone I really want you to meet," he says as we weave through the growing crowd of attendees.

We approach his family, who are clustered together, chatting animatedly. Luk, Yuri, Vanya, Vladimir, and Elena all greet me warmly, making me feel surprisingly welcome. A stunning woman with striking Irish features—fair skin contrasted by dark red hair—stands beside Luk.

Luk steps forward, a proud smile lighting up his features, and gestures to the woman beside him. "Dalia, I'd like you to meet Maura, my wife," he says affectionately.

"Hello, Dalia. It's so lovely to meet you," Maura says, her voice warm and inviting.

Her presence is elegant yet approachable, and she extends a hand, which I shake, feeling the genuine kindness in her gesture.

Maura leans in with a conspiratorial smile, her eyes sparkling as we step aside from the group. "So, Dalia, how are you settling into our little Ivanov universe? It's quite a world apart, isn't it?"

I nod. "It's definitely a whole new dynamic for me, but everyone's been incredibly welcoming so far."

She gives a knowing nod, her voice lowering a bit. "Lev is a good man, really. He might seem all tough on the outside, but he's got a softer side, too, just like my Luk." Her gaze briefly flits to her husband, filled with tenderness and affection.

I can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within.

"Lev? Sensitive? Now that's something I'll have to see to believe." The idea of Lev being anything other than the stern, commanding figure I know strikes me as both amusing and oddly intriguing.

Maura's laughter is a light trill that draws me in further. Curiosity piqued, I lean closer, "So, how did you find yourself part of this world? With the Ivanovs, I mean."

Her green eyes flash with mischief as she begins, "Oh, it's a funny story, actually, filled with arranged marriages and a bit of old-world intrigue."

I laugh, already captivated and wanting to know more. "You can't start with that and not finish. I need to hear the whole story."

Maura's smile widens. "It's quite a tale. I'd love to share it over a glass of wine some time."

"It's a deal.”

“As a matter of fact, let’s grab that glass as soon as we get inside,” she adds.

I hesitate, a sudden wave of nausea washing over me. "I think I'll wait a bit actually," I reply, placing a hand on my stomach. "I’m feeling a bit squeamish. Must’ve been something I ate."

Maura nods understandingly. "It could just be nerves. The Ivanovs can be quite the intimidating bunch."

I exhale a long sigh. "You've got that right."

"Don’t worry too much," Maura continues, her voice lowering slightly. "They might appear tough to outsiders, but once you’re part of their inner circle, they're incredibly protective."

I half-smile. "That's a nice thought, but I'm just Lev's PA. I hardly think that puts me in any inner circle."

Maura gives me a look and a smile that suggests she knows better. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you."

Her words catch me off guard, stirring a flutter of surprise and curiosity in my stomach.

Maura nods toward where everyone else is mingling. "Let’s head back," she says.

Chatting with her was a breath of fresh air. "It’s been really nice talking to you, Dalia," Maura tells me, her smile genuine.

"I feel the same," I reply, returning the smile and warmed by our conversation.

Heading back to the group, I feel a bit more relaxed thanks to Maura's kindness. Yet as I sneak a glance at Lev, I can't shake off the uncertainty about where I stand, especially after his distant behavior yesterday.

It doesn't take long before Lev sidles up next to me. "Glad to see you and Maura hit it off," he says, a hint of approval in his voice.

"Yeah, she’s really nice," I respond, glad that he noticed.

He gives a small nod, then his eyes wander down to my dress. "You really do look absolutely gorgeous tonight."

"Thanks," I manage, his penetrating gaze feeling like a physical touch.

Leaning in, his voice drops to a whisper. "Did you make it to La Seduction Lingerie like I suggested?" he asks, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

A blush creeps up my cheeks. "Yes, I did," I admit quietly.

"And what treasure did you find?" His curiosity hangs between us, thick and palpable.

I hesitate for a second, then share, "A midnight blue set.”

His eyes light up with dark mischief. "I can't wait to see you in it," he murmurs, his lusty tone sending shivers down my spine. “And out of it.”

"I’m not sure that’s a good idea," I reply, trying to keep it professional, but his commanding presence and proximity makes it hard to think straight.

He grins, that hungry, knowing smile. "I always get what I want, Dalia.”

Lev leans in closer, his lips barely brushing my ear, sending a thrill of anticipation through me. His voice is low and sultry, dripping with promise.

"If we were alone right now, I'd peel that stunning dress off you inch by torturous inch," he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. "I’d explore every curve of your body with my tongue, tasting your sweet pussy until you’re writhing and begging for more."

His words ignite a fire within me, arousal washing over me in an overwhelming tide. The image of him doing just that—his hands and mouth all over me—makes my knees weak. My brand-new panties dampen as he continues, the huskiness in his voice expressing his barely contained desire.

"And when you’re desperate for it, I’d slide deep inside you, taking you hard and fast, until you scream my name."

His words send a fire racing through my veins, and I feel my face flush with heat. My body responds viscerally, my pulse quickening, a slick warmth spreading between my thighs.

But before I can reply to Lev's steamy whisper, he's all business again, checking to see if everyone's ready to head inside. I'm still standing there, dazed and more turned on than I should be, when I hear the distinct growl of motorcycles. Turning toward the noise, my heart drops.

Three bikers race down the street, pulling up sharp, right in front of the bustling crowd. They're decked out in all black, faces hidden behind dark shielded helmets. A cold wave of realization washes over me as I spot the guns they're casually brandishing. I grab Lev's arm, my fingers tight against his sleeve.

"Lev, look," I whisper urgently, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sudden spike of adrenaline.

His reaction is instantaneous, his body shielding me as the bikers wield their pistols.

The air cracks with gunfire as bullets begin to fly. Panic grips the crowd as screams and shouts fill the air, echoing through the night.

In the thick of the bedlam, the Ivanovs spring into action. Luk, despite the confusion and danger, manages to grab Maura. He yanks her behind a decorative statue, an improvised shield from the imminent danger.

Amid the sound of shattering glass and the sharp zing of bullets ricocheting, I catch a glimpse of blood spreading across Luk's sleeve, stark against the white of his shirt.

He doesn’t flinch or groan; his focus entirely on Maura, his movements protective and precise. The stark fear for her safety overshadows his own, his arm hanging limply by his side as he checks her over for injuries.

The crowd scrambles amidst the panic, driven by sheer survival instinct. Elena, Vladimir, and Yuri jump into action, barking orders to get everyone to safety. It's all happening so fast, like a scene from an action movie, except it’s terrifyingly real.

Lev yanks me behind a car, using it as a makeshift barrier. He’s all protective mode, checking me over quickly, making sure I’m not hit. "You okay?" he asks, his gaze sharp and assessing.

"Yeah," I answer, barely hearing my own voice over the chaos.

"Stay down and keep hidden, no matter what. Don't lift your head," he commands, his voice firm, brooking no argument. “Do you understand?”

I nod, trying to process an impossible situation.

“Tell me with words that you understand.”

"I understand," I assure him, my voice gaining a bit of strength.

He places his hand on my shoulder, grounding me.

As he prepares to stand, I latch onto his shoulder, my voice spiked with fear. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to protect my family," he declares without a hint of hesitation. Suddenly, he pulls out a large silver pistol from under his jacket, and my breath catches.

Why on earth does the COO of a holdings company carry a gun like it's second nature?

Before I can voice my shock, he's already moving. He darts out from behind our makeshift cover, firing off rounds with a practiced hand. One of the bikers makes a beeline for Luk and Maura, but Lev's shot catches him in the shoulder, halting him in his tracks.

I'm stunned, watching Lev maneuver with a cold, calculated precision that chills me to the bone. He's not just some corporate executive; he's trained and lethal. It was one thing to hear about his military background, but a whole other thing entirely to see him in action.

I can hardly make heads or tails of what’s happening, but it soon becomes clear the attackers are retreating.

Lev continues to fire, the sharp reports of his gun slicing through the evening. Suddenly, a burst of gunfire erupts near him, and he groans, ducking swiftly behind cover.

Panic seizes me, overriding caution. I can't just sit back; I need to make sure he's okay. Ignoring the danger, I dart out from behind the car, crouching low to the ground. The remaining bikers are making a quick getaway, the wounded one struggling to get onto his bike.

Heart pounding, I rush toward Lev, desperate to reach him, praying he's not hurt.

His eyes flash, sharp and commanding. "Get the hell down!" he snaps, scanning the area for more threats. "Get behind cover, now!"

"Not a chance!" I shoot back, unwilling to leave him exposed. My heart slams against my ribs, the air thick with danger.

Suddenly, the wounded biker lifts his gun, aiming directly at me. My breath catches as time slows down. But before he can fire, Lev swings his pistol up and squeezes the trigger. The shot rings out, striking the biker, causing his aim to veer off wildly, the bullet zinging past me and hitting nothing but air.

With a curse, the biker revs his engine and takes off in pain and desperation, losing control. His motorcycle bounces off a parked car with a crash that echoes down the street.

The bike, still careening wildly, rockets toward me, its rider half-slumped over, grappling to maintain control. It's like everything shifts into matrix mode—the roar of the engine, the cries from the crowd, Lev's voice shouting my name.

Fear roots me to the spot; I'm a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming disaster.

The bike is closing in, too fast for me to react. Desperate fear grips me, and all I can do is throw my hands over my eyes, bracing for the impact. My heart pounds against my ribcage, each beat a drum of impending doom.

Then, suddenly, everything goes silent.