Chapter 17

Dalia

M y stomach twists with nerves as the car pulls up to Lev's place.

It's not just about seeing him again, it's the whole situation. As I step out of the car, two guards are right there to greet me.

Lev’s concern for my safety is both suffocating and comforting. Guards have been stationed at my place since I returned after staying with Lev the night of the shooting, which is part reassuring, part overwhelming.

The guards are silent sentinels, escorting me into the building. As we pass through the opulent lobby, I can’t help but feel out of place—a small-town girl thrust into a world that’s far too grand to feel like mine.

We reach the private elevator. As we ascend to the penthouse, my heart races faster with each passing floor.

“Hey there.”

Lev is waiting right at the door when I arrive. He looks impossibly good, dressed in a crisp white button-up that’s casually rolled up to his forearms.

He thanks the guards, who nod and take the elevator back down, leaving us alone. He steps forward and greets me with a kiss on the cheek. Still stung by the recent distance between us, I want to pull back, but the warmth of his lips against my skin sparks something inside me.

My body reacts instinctively, a flush of heat surging through, tightening in places I wish weren’t so traitorous.

“Glad you could make it,” Lev says softly.

Jazz music floats throughout the place, giving off those chill vibes that make everything feel a bit smoother. "Nice music," I say, trying to keep things light.

"It's Chet Baker. Personal favorite of mine.”

He helps me off with my coat, and I can't help but shiver a little when his fingers accidentally graze my shoulders. A warmth spreads through me, my pussy clenching.

"Want some sparkling wine, or something else?" he asks, his tone casual.

"Just water, thanks," I respond, keeping it simple.

He nods and leads me through his sprawling place to a table setup on the patio that's got one killer view of the city. The table is beautifully set, candles flickering in the twilight, turning the penthouse patio into our own private little peaceful spot above the city's buzz.

He guides me into my chair with an attentiveness that, while sweet, is a bit much. I can't help but chuckle. "I'm only a month or so in, Lev. I can still sit down by myself."

He doesn't respond immediately, instead pulling out his phone and swiftly making a call. "We're ready for dinner," he says into the receiver, then hangs up and turns back to me.

"I just wanted to give you a break, a night just to relax."

I raise an eyebrow, unable to resist a jab. "Relax? Funny, I didn’t know you vanishing off the face of the earth was part of your relaxation package."

He pauses, caught off guard, clearly not expecting that. Before he can muster a reply, the elevator dings, and a pair of chefs emerge, bustling over with dishes in hand. They quickly set our meals in front of us, giving Lev a convenient escape from having to respond.

The chefs skillfully remove the lids from our plates, unveiling a culinary masterpiece.

Lev raises his glass, catching the soft light of the setting sun. "To being more open," he declares, his gaze locking with mine.

"I'll drink to that," I reply, clinking my glass against his. The first bite is divine, and I savor the rich, buttery flavor of the fish. Lev watches me enjoy a few more bites before his expression turns serious.

"I'm sorry," he begins, causing me to pause mid-chew. I set down my fork and meet his eyes, noticing a rare hint of regret in them. "I know I have my reasons for being so elusive, but it wasn’t right for me to just disappear on you like that."

I nod slowly, absorbing his apology with skepticism. "Thank you for saying that" I start, my voice steady but cool. "But I'm not quite ready to forgive you. You left me alone, right when I needed you the most, right after I found out I was pregnant."

Lev's expression softens, and he reaches across the table, an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm truly sorry for that. It was wrong of me to disappear when you were dealing with so much," he admits, his voice heavy with regret. "But you need to understand, everything I did was to ensure your safety."

I raise an eyebrow, unconvinced.

He leans back, his jaw set as he prepares to explain. "After the attack at the gala, I've been working nonstop to uncover who was behind it, who dared to threaten you and my family." His fists clench at the thought, the anger evident in his eyes. "I couldn't stand the thought of you being in danger again. That's why I was gone. I needed to handle this threat."

Despite my frustration, the sincerity in his voice chips away at my steadfastness.

“And what have you learned?”

"I'm sorry to admit that I haven't found out much," he says, shaking his head in disappointment. "I have a small lead, but nothing concrete yet." His voice carries a weight of responsibility, and as he speaks with such passion, I feel my anger starting to dissolve.

"The thought of losing you that night at the gallery has haunted me.”

Then, in a move that catches me completely off guard, he rises from his seat, steps around the table, and kneels before me, taking my hand gently in his.

"I swear to you, Dalia, I will never let any harm come to you or our child," he vows, his eyes burning with determination. "And I will personally deal with anyone who tries to put either of you in danger."

His words, so fierce and protective, wash over me.

As he kneels before me, the raw intensity in his eyes kindles a wild heat within me. His pledge leaves me breathless—this man is truly unlike any other.

"Will you trust me to keep you safe?" he asks, a fiery passion and a promise of wrath against my would-be harmers flickering in his gaze.

I nod, the words escaping me in a whisper, "Yes, I'll trust you."