19. Chapter 19

Jade

Dmitri walked me back to my building himself, doing the same thing Ivan had done before, waiting for me to wave from above before disappearing into the night. My lips still felt puffy from all of the kissing, and there was a swell of need between my legs.

I'd never touched myself before a few months ago, but that newly familiar urge was growing in a way that couldn't be helped. So I got into the shower, purely to use the detachable head for some relief. I had to be quiet, but it didn't take long. Just thinking about Dmitri had me biting my hand and shaking through an orgasm in under two minutes. When I got into bed, I fell asleep to the thought of how much better that would feel with Dmitri doing it to me.

Over breakfast the next morning, an administrator I don't know brings me a slip with my new cooking class details. Reminding me that I still haven't told my brothers about the challenge. Honestly, I sort of forgot about it, too. The transition period of being moved around in the schedule had the subject of cooking entirely off of my mind. Not to mention all of the other chaos taking up space in my head.

Of course, when I reluctantly revealed how I got out of Intro to Cooking, they immediately demanded to know who helped me. Even Nico shakes off his usual disinterest in favor of pestering me

"It's not a big deal, guys," I insist, telling them to quiet down with my wide eyes. The entire cafeteria's attention at eight in the morning sounds less than appealing.

"Uh, yeah, it is," Matteo declares, still managing to stuff his omelet into his mouth while worrying about me. "You made history, and you did it behind our backs."

"Okay, that's a little dramatic," I protest.

"It's not," Remo argues. "You consorted with someone who isn't our ally, and you're purposely refusing to tell us who. That's suspicious and worrisome, Jade."

"It wouldn't be so worrisome if you had an ounce of trust in my abilities," I murmur sadly. "Can't it just be enough that I'm obviously safe and my plan worked? Why does everything have to be such a big deal?—"

"You don't get how dangerous our world is yet, little sister," Matteo tells me softly, patting my hand. "You think you've seen a taste of it, but you don't understand it, not entirely."

"There's a million working parts, and you're prepared for a couple hundred of them," Nico adds.

"We aren't asking so that we can jump the person," Remo assures me. "We want to know so we can keep an eye out for them."

Which is exactly what I don't want.

I fold my arms over my chest, my blueberry muffin long forgotten. "Great, so someone does something nice for me, and in return, they get four stalkers?"

"Call it a reward," Nico says with a shrug.

I grit my teeth. "I'll call it nothing because I'm not telling any of you."

"Oh? That's how you want to play it?" Armani asks, dropping his fork.

"I'm not trying to play anything," I defend, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can we please drop this? The last few days have been stressful enough as it is."

"No," my brother responds.

"I—" can't get the words out because he's already moving.

Armani stands up on his chair, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell. His inky black tattoos only emphasize the action, being laid against his lightly tanned skin. Before I can stop him, he's got the attention of the whole room. "I'll give fifty grand to the first person who can tell me who ate my sister's food for the first-year challenge!"

Bursts of whispers break out all around us and I pinch his leg, tugging on his pants. "Get. Down."

"Anyone?" Armani calls out again.

"Matteo, please," I beg, grabbing his arm tightly. "Get him down before I genuinely die of embarrassment. This is so not fair."

My brother hesitates, crinkling his nose before he gets up, pulling Armani off the chair. "Nothing to see here, folks," he announces. "Go back to your breakfasts."

Armani and Matteo share a heated but whispered argument until Armani takes his seat again, clearly convinced to drop it. At least for now.

My ears burn with a flush of mortification, and I place my muffin in front of Matteo, appetite fully gone now. The little bit of fruit I had already is going to have to be enough until later because I can't stomach another bite right now.

Armani watches me give away my food and frowns.

"Are you?—"

"Don't ever do that to me again," I whisper angrily, cutting him off.

"Jade," Armani tries, face falling.

"I know you don't care what people think about you, but I care about making a good impression. Everything I do reflects back on Dad, and I'm trying not to disgrace the first person who's ever loved me."

"Goddammit," he groans, running a hand down his face. "I'm sorry, alright?"

"So you'll drop it?"

His lips flatten into a line. "You know I can't."

"Then you aren't very sorry, are you?" Gripping my empty orange juice bottle and my half-eaten fruit cup, I stand up and stomp off to throw them away.

I know I shouldn't be so upset at their questioning, I am actively hiding things from them, but some semblance of privacy isn't too much to ask for. I can love how overprotective they are and experience frustration from it at the same time.

As I toss away my garbage, I catch familiar eyes watching me. Ivan's lips tip up, and he sends me a wink. I release a breath, understanding that small action's larger meaning. No one is going to take Armani up on his offer. Everyone who was in the ruins courtyard that day must be with them or easily bought by them.

My Morozov boys have already handled any possible rumors about the challenge day, taking one less thing off of my metaphorical plate.

Straight after breakfast ends, Remo shows me where to go for my first day in my new cooking class. Thankfully, this one isn't run by a psycho. The teacher is a thirty-something-year-old lovely woman who is super excited to have me. Not to mention, the course outline already assumes the student's ability to cook eggs, so it's not so rudimentary that I'll be bored every day.

And when I see Ivan in our knives class, he confirms my suspicion from earlier. Nobody who saw Dmitri eat my food will say a word. Even the Admin who needed to verify my winning won't say a thing. Though, Ivan says that's mostly because they love depriving the students of gossip that they can keep between themselves.

Since I officially know my way around campus, at least most of it, Remo doesn't come to pick me up after Knives. Though, Ivan isn't keen on letting me walk alone. He hangs back behind me a few paces, but I roll my eyes and insist he walks by my side. If anyone sees us together and decides to report to my brothers about it, I'll simply pretend I got a little lost and stuck by Ivan since we go the same way.

We're almost back to the little snack pantry building when I see two people going inside. Without thinking, I pick up the pace and head straight for it.

"Are you hungry?" Ivan asks, confused by my change of direction.

"Not hungry, curious," I respond, opening the solid wood door before he can do it for me. When we maneuver inside, I'm relieved to see they haven't dipped out of the backdoor or somehow mysteriously disappeared before I could find them.

Thankfully, the pantry is particularly empty right now.

"That's Ares and Thiago, isn't it?" I ask, whispering to Ivan.

Ivan looks up and out, finding them on the other side of the little building, looking through the protein bar selection.

"Yes," he answers, looking reluctant. "Why?"

"I want to talk to them," I answer easily, taking a step forward to do just that.

"Are you crazy?" Ivan asks, catching my arm to hold me back.

"Not crazy, curious," I emphasize, repeating myself from before.

Straightening my shoulders, I ignore the small resistance from my friend and make my move. I know they hear me approach by the slight twitch of their bodies before they even turn to see me.

"Hello," I greet, smiling kindly.

"Hello?" Ares responds first, a confused edge to his greeting.

"Hi," Thiago adds, looking behind me, likely assessing Ivan.

"Sorry, I won't waste too much of your time. I'm Jade, but since both of you have put in marriage offers for me, I'm sure you're aware of that."

It took some serious convincing to keep Armani away from these two after the Javier incident. They haven't done anything technically wrong, my father won't marry me to them anyway, and they aren't my teachers, so no boundaries have been crossed. They haven't even approached me and therefore are not responsible for whatever chaos my brothers would unleash upon them, given they may not have even put in the offers themselves. But I am curious if it was their fathers' doing or not.

At this point, I'm sure they're at least aware that offers have been put in. Their fathers' would have contacted them since they've now had time to. Or, on the off chance they did it themselves, of course, they would be aware of it.

The two men share a look, likely unsure how to respond.

"I just wanted to let you both know that you shouldn't pursue me."

Thiago arches a sculpted black brow. "Oh?"

"Yes," I confirm firmly. "You see, my father isn't looking for a match for me, and even if he was, I've already chosen who I want."

I'm not sure whether having Ivan here is giving me the confidence to do this, or if becoming a Moretti has done that already, but either way it's sort of exhilarating. I'd never been able to speak so directly to people before, let alone strange men. I had the default belief that everyone saw me like Bruce saw me.

Now, I don't care how they see me. It's like I've built up an immunity for intimidating tasks. There may still be fear lingering in my gut, but I'm stronger than it.

"Feel free to relay that to your fathers, or simply tell them the part about how my Dad isn't looking. You can even lie and say you tried, but please, don't try."

Ares assesses my face, trying to gauge my seriousness. "Not your type, are we?"

What a strange question since they both look and seem different.

Ares is significantly shorter, and he's not even short, Thiago is just really tall. And where Thiago has a dark brown complexion, Ares is more olive toned and deeply tan. Thiago has light green eyes and Ares has much darker, deep brown eyes. Where Thiago's head is shaved similarly to Javier's, the hair on Ares' head is thick and wavy, tapered on the sides but more wild on top.

"You're both very handsome," I concede, unwilling to lie even if I don't like complimenting men who aren't my boyfriend. Before I can add a ‘but', Thiago cuts in.

"Good genes," he comments with a rising smirk. "Black and Brazilian look damn good together, don't they, Ares?"

Ares scoffs. "Arrogance doesn't."

"Liar."

"But," I cut in, interrupting the playful banter. "I know nothing about either of you, and I have to let you know that I have no interest in getting to know you. I'm already taken."

Dmitri Morozov is the only man for me, I don't care how soon it is to say that. I feel it in my core.

"You're warning us?" Ares guesses, tilting his head to the side.

"Because of the boyfriend or the brothers, I wonder," Thiago muses, humming.

"Both," I reply bluntly.

"Are we supposed to be scared?" Thiago asks, scratching his stubble.

"Why would you be scared?" I counter. "You haven't done anything with consequences to be scared of. Yet."

"I have to say, I'm surprised," Thiago begins, unfazed by the thinly veiled warning—sort of threat. "How exactly did you manage getting him to let you approach us? Surely this will be a point of contention for your… relationship.

"Oh, Ivan isn't my boyfriend," I sing-song sweetly. Turning over my shoulder to look back at him, I grin. "He'll still protect me like he is, though. Won't you, Ivan?"

"Without hesitation," he declares, not a hint of delay in his reply.

Surprised, Ares looks me up and down. "You're Dmitri's then?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about." I shrug, feigning innocence.

"Oh, that's great," Thiago drawls, chuckling. "Daddy doesn't know, does he?"

I click my tongue at that. "I assure you, that's none of your business."

"Out of pure curiosity, what exactly does the silent Russian brute have that we don't?" Ares drawls, watching that Ivan stays put from the corner of his eye.

That's easy.

"Me."

"Cheeky," Thiago comments.

"And if we were to combine our offers?" Ares asks. "Would two for one tempt you away from him?"

Ares' question feels more like a test than a last-ditch effort for my hand. Maybe he'd consider sharing a wife with Thiago, but he doesn't seem that desperate for that wife to be me.

So while this is a surprising offer, it's not a tempting one. Maybe in another life, if I'd seen either of them first, things could be different. But I don't want to be in another life. I want this one, and I want it with Dmitri.

Until proven otherwise, he's the man for me.

Leaning just a bit closer, I smirk. "Sorry, even the two of you put together aren't my silent Russian brute."

"Jade, we have to go," Ivan warns, cautiously interrupting.

Raising my chin, I give the two men one last glance each. "Well, that was a very enlightening conversation. I'm sure we can keep it between us," I hint heavily. "Consider it a show of goodwill between our families. I wouldn't want anything to disrupt the balance we've created."

"Threats disguised as sweet talk," Thiago hums. "She's a Moretti, after all."

My responding smile is gleeful. "So I keep hearing."

I turn my back on them, happily gliding to the door and snagging a bag of Skittles on the way out. I'm not a huge candy girl, but I definitely just earned a treat.

Right as Ivan and I are leaving, I hear one of them muttering under their breath. "Wouldn't want to be that poor fucker."

When the door shuts behind us, I'm immediately tugging him around the side of the building, keeping us away from too many prying eyes.

"Why did they say that as we were leaving?" I ask urgently.

"Say what?"

"I know you heard them," I argue, not even humoring his attempt at lying.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's complicated, Jade. Family stuff that you don't need to worry about."

Frowning, I give him an impatient look. "I want to worry about it."

Ivan blows out a puff of air and checks our surroundings. Deeming them to be too public, he guides me further behind the pantry building, maneuvering around bushes and small trees.

When he decides we have sufficient privacy, he runs a hand down his clean-shaven face. "They're talking about my position, being under Dmitri."

My nose scrunches up. "Why would that make them feel bad for you? Just because they're heirs and you're not?"

"It's complicated," he repeats. "Second sons aren't the same for the Morozovs."

I lean in, interested. Matteo didn't say anything about this before.

"How so?"

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," he says, voice soft.

"You're starting to scare me a bit," I admit. "Please just tell me."

His next sigh is more like a groan.

"In our family, second sons are guards to the heir. My job is to keep Dmitri alive, even if it means that I die in the process. It's our oldest and most important tradition, and I take it very seriously. They pity me for it."

Well, as horrible as Ivan dying for any reason would be, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal. My brothers would protect each other with their lives as well. Granted, the order of birth deciding who should die first is a bit fucked up.

"That isn't so bad," I reply, trying not to cringe at myself. "Why would they pity you? Everyone has traditions?—"

"Jade, it's…" Ivan cuts himself off, shaking his head. "It's hard to explain this to you without saying the wrong thing."

"Take your time, I won't run away," I swear, drawing an X over my heart.

Finished with stalling, Ivan leans against the building wall. "It's a very serious guard position. My life is dedicated to Dmitri's survival. I won't marry, I won't ever have kids, and I'll stay by his side until one or both of us are dead. I don't go out, I don't drink or do drugs, and I never will. They see my life as meaningless like I'm a living shield. That's why they pity me, Jade. I'd really appreciate it if you could refrain from doing the same."

"Oh, Ivan," I murmur, reaching for his hand to squeeze. "I could never pity you."

"No?" he asks, almost in disbelief.

"No."

It's a lot, I can't lie. Hard to imagine being okay with a life without so many things. But who am I to judge their family? I don't know their story, and if Ivan says he's okay with it, I should respect him enough to believe him.

"You could run away at any time, couldn't you? Give yourself a new identity and never be seen again?" I ask, trying to paint a picture of my point. "If you truly hated the hand you were dealt, you could throw away the deck."

"Yes, I could leave," he acknowledges. "But I never would."

"I know you wouldn't," I agree, nodding. "That's my whole point. They're wasting their pity on a man who has a choice."

Warily, his lips tip to one side. "I'm glad you think so."

"Yeah? Because I'm your friend, and you care about my opinion?"

"Because I'm not really Dmitri's guard anymore, Jade. I'm yours."

"W-what?"

If I had water in my mouth, it would surely be dripping down his face right now. I wouldn't be able to keep myself from spitting out every drop.

"When the heir marries, the second son becomes his wife's protector. My priority shifts from him to you."

"B-but we're not married," I stammer, my heart beginning to pick up its beat.

"Dmitri isn't taking any risks," Ivan admits with a shrug. "My priority has changed since he had me switch into knives. I'm in a swimming slash water survival course now too since it's underneath the gym at the time you're there for fight training. I eat in the cafeteria only to keep an eye on you."

"Wow," I blurt, lost for all other words.

"Dmitri will be Pakhan, and that means who he chooses for his wife is the only person more important to keep alive than he is."

"How can I be more important?" I gape at him. "He's the leader."

"And wives carry heirs," Ivan points out. "If you're married to Dmitri, it is to be assumed that you could be pregnant at any time with the future Pakhan."

"He could just get someone else pregnant," I protest, despite the disgusting taste the words leave in my mouth.

Ivan shakes his head. "A grieving Pakhan is a dangerous one, chances are he would fixate on revenge and loss for far too long that creating an heir wouldn't happen."

"What if we both die?"

"Our sister will be tasked with creating an heir."

"You have a sister?" I don't think I knew that.

"Yes," he says, smiling sadly. "Anya, she's sixteen, and… she has a lot going on."

I understand. Sore subject, not the time.

"Okay, so why would Anya be the next step, if Dmitri and I are metaphorically dead, why wouldn't you become Pakhan?"

"I would," he says, correcting my assumption. "I would fill in until her son becomes of age, but I still won't marry or sire heirs of my own."

"But why not?"

"I can't be rewarded for my brother's death," he deadpans. "If Dmitri dying is what stood in my way of becoming Pakhan, what is there to stop me from killing him myself?"

Um, the fact that you love him!

"You'd never do that," I argue, frowning.

"No, I wouldn't," he agrees solemnly.

"This is all so intense," I mutter, mind racing.

"It's only going to get more intense," he warns. "We're giving you time to adjust, but my life is yours, Jade. I'll protect you just like I'd protect Dmitri. Whatever it takes."

I swallow, looking down at my feet. "So… you didn't really want to be my friend? You just feel obligated to?"

"No," Ivan refutes, reaching for my hand and taking it into a snug grip. "Of course, I wanted to be your friend. I still do. This is why I was hesitant to tell you, Jade. I don't hang out with you for the sole purpose of diving in front of anyone or anything trying to hurt you. I care about you."

My mood instantly lifts, just like my smile. "Okay, good."

"Yeah?" he double-checks, looking into my eyes. "You believe me?"

"Of course I do," I promise. "What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn't?"