36. Chapter 36

Jade

One Month Later

The weather is so incredibly nice today. It's warm but not humid or muggy and hot. The air is crisp from the cool water of the ocean. It's the perfect day for ice cream, and that's exactly what Ivan and I are devouring right now.

Being able to walk around in the daylight with him is so nice, not having to worry about being spotted is even better. Armani is gone for the whole day, up in the mountains working with the long-range sniper candidates. He selected five students with potential and went up there with them to get some practice and improvement.

The twins are out there with him, not shooting but acting as his unofficial guards. They won't let anything happen to him while he's distracted with working, but Remo says it's not a big deal. Matteo is just in bed for a post-lunch nap, not feeling the need to tag along since he trusts Ivan now. He's exchanged a few less snappy words with him in the past few weeks, and I can tell he's accepted our friendship.

My morning sickness is still a bit of a problem, but I don't want to think about it right now. This peach sorbet the kitchen employees made is fucking phenomenal, and I will not throw it up.

"Do you like yours?" I ask Ivan, nodding to the strawberry flavor in his cup.

"It's good," he replies, taking another bite.

We decided to sit near the beach, allowing us a bit of privacy without really hiding. Dmitri is around here somewhere, watching us from afar. I found out that he spends most of his time observing me and recognizing the feeling of his eyes has become instinctual. It's sweet but also kind of sad. Soon enough, the semester will be over, and he'll never have to watch me from a tree again because he'll be right next to me.

I hum, nodding. "What flavor would Dmitri have gotten?"

Ivan thinks about it. "Probably peach since you got it."

"Does he even like peaches?"

"I don't know that he's ever had one." He shrugs. "But he'd try it for you."

My cheeks lift as I smile at him. "You know one of my favorite things about Dmitri?"

He smirks. "His dick?"

I roll my eyes. "No—" Well, yes, but no, not the point. "—I was going to say you, you dummy. Having a boyfriend that comes with a best friend? That's pretty fucking cool." Ivan's lips perk up on the sides, absorbing my words.

"Yeah, it's pretty fucking cool," he agrees. "But you should get used to calling him your husband, you know?"

I swallow a bite quickly. "I should?"

"He already refers to you as his wife," he points out casually.

My lips part. "He does?"

"Yeah," he agrees. "Ever since you got pregnant, when he briefs the men about you for the week, he says ‘my wife' this, and ‘my wife' that."

"Husband," I try the word out, rolling it around on my tongue. "Hmm, I like it."

"You should call him that in bed." He winks.

I laugh through a gasp. "You have a dirty mind, Ivan."

"Well, when you can't have sex, joking about it is as close as you get."

My chuckle dies down. "Ivan, you know I don't care if you?—"

"Nope," he chimes, not allowing me to finish. "Never going to happen, sestra."

"Sestra?"

He grins. "Russian for sister."

My heart softens. "How do you say brother?"

"Brat," he says, rolling the R.

"Ugh, too similar to brat. I'll find a nickname for you, don't worry."

Ivan shakes his head. "No rush, we've got time."

I hope we do. I want endless time with my best friend and my husband.

"Do your clothes fit better now, by the way?"

Ugh, so glad he reminded me. "Yes! They're perfect, thank you again!"

Ivan personally found some old uniforms and sewed elastic in them so that they"d stretch as my stomach started to pop. I only have a tiny little bump right now, but it"s growing, and my tailored uniform was not cutting it.

"It's not a big deal," he says, shrugging it off.

We're hoping that since my brothers didn't hear about the fight class mishap—only that I finally dropped the course—they'll just assume I put on a few pounds without the constant exercise. For now, there isn't enough lift in my shirt to make them suspicious at all, so we're just rolling with it.

"You're too modest," I point out, finishing up my treat. Ivan's is gone now too. "Want to go get a soda?" I ask. Maybe a ginger ale will help me keep my stomach calm. These babies are finicky.

"Sounds good," he agrees, getting to his feet. We walk in unison, finding the nearest trash can for our garbage.

Just as we approach it, a rumbling of whispers breaks out nearby, loud enough to reach our ears. When we turn, I catch a glimpse of the Lord striding through campus with a mysterious black figure.

"What's going on?" I ask, throwing away my disposable cup.

"I'm not sure," Ivan responds cautiously.

Why the hell is the Lord walking around with this grim reaper-looking guy?

We only get a few feet closer when Ivan holds out his arm, prompting me to freeze. "Wait," he instructs.

"That's an executioner," I hear someone whisper. "Someone fucked up."

"What the hell?" I gasp.

"Who are they looking for?" another student wonders aloud.

Nearby, I watch as Dmitri appears, walking out from behind a bunch of trees. A sick sense of dread hits me in my core, and Ivan stiffens. I stop breathing as he looks at us, his expression unreadable to me, and then he turns to the executioner.

"No," I croak. "What is he doing?"

"Jade—"

"No, Ivan, what's happening?" I screech.

When the Lord finds Dmitri with his eyes and points him out. Ivan has me locked against his chest before I can take off running toward them. I scream and thrash in his arms, kicking and swinging my arms.

"Dmitri!" I cry out, voice breaking. "Ivan, we have to?—"

"Shut up," he warns. The deep command was snapped directly against my ear. Ivan has never said that to me before. "Do not put a target on yourself. Let him handle it."

We're so close, but not close enough. I don't know what the Lord is saying to Dmitri, but I know it can't be good. An executioner is standing way to fucking close to the love of my life right now.

Overhead the sound of a plane echoes around, but I ignore it, unable to take my eyes off of the scene in front of us.

"You want an inquisition?" Dmitri asks loud enough for me to hear. "Let's have it right here."

He steps down to one knee and eventually to two.

"Ivan, why is he kneeling?" I demand, trying to squirm out of his hands. "Ivan—" I start panting with worry, but he only holds me tighter.

"Go ahead, have your fucking inquisition. You've got nothing."

The Lord shakes his head. "I'm afraid that's just not true."

Dauntingly, the executioner comes up behind Dmitri, standing there with a knife in hand. I can't believe my eyes. Dmitri on his knees, being held in place by an implied threat.

"We've been presented with photos of you leaving the premises?—"

My heart starts to hammer. No, no way. They can't hurt him for that, let alone kill him!

"Photos aren't admissible evidence here," Dmitri seethes.

"Photos taken here aren't," the Lord rebuttals. "These weren't taken here."

Oh my god, I'm going to puke.

"I-Ivan," I whimper.

"Shhh," he soothes. "Just breathe."

He still doesn't release me.

"I've never left this campus without approval, photos can be doctored."

"I'm afraid I'm going to need to see some evidence that you haven't left or?—"

The Lord stops speaking as the sound of an engine grows closer. Everyone looks up, only to find a plane landing on the small runway nearby.

The wind around us picks up and fully knocks the air from my lungs when I see who's responsible for it. Relief hits me like a ton of bricks.

My knees give out entirely, but Ivan keeps me off the ground, holding me tightly. Apollo struts out of the plane and heads directly for the commotion, eyes hidden by dark designer shades. My brother is here, oh thank god. He'll fix this, I know he will.

Still keeping me pinned against him, Ivan moves us closer but reminds me to remain quiet, shushing me against my hairline. None of my other brothers are with him, but Apollo isn't alone. By the plane, two men remain, standing guard, whilst another two trail behind my eldest brother.

"Moretti," the Lord of Empire greets him cautiously. "We weren't expecting you."

"I thought not," Apollo replies, eyeing the man. Without offering him another word, Apollo turns his attention to Dmitri. "Get up, this inquisition is over."

My heart leaps as he gets to his feet, stuttering when the executioner flashes his knife. His threatening gesture isn't received well, drawing the attention of my brother's men. "Unless you'd like for the last breath of your life to occur today," Apollo warns, his words hard and lethal. "I suggest you stand down."

The Lord's stare hardens on Apollo. "Why, pray tell, do you believe you can advise my men?"

"I've got your evidence," my brother informs him. "And frankly, I don't have time for the ridiculous show you're trying to put on. The accused crime isn't even one that warrants a death penalty, and you have an executioner here? Spare me the dramatics, Will."

I blink back tears, letting my brother's calm radiate my way. Dmitri can't be killed for whatever this is about, and that's all I need to latch on to. He's going to be okay, Apollo is going to make sure of it.

"What evidence could you possibly have for me, Moretti?" The Lord—whose name is apparently Will—asks, emphasizing the use of our last name. He knows his name is Apollo, but he's actively avoiding using it. Likely as a rebuttal to Apollo's use of his name. It appears The Lord of Empire isn't fond of personal connections.

"You're accusing Mr. Morozov of unlawfully coming and going from Empire, but the only evidence you have is a misinformed tip and grainy photos shot from a moving boat. Dmitri's absence from school grounds on the accused date was sanctioned, and I have the paperwork to prove it."

"Do you?" the Lord asks, interest peaked. He no longer seems salty about Apollo's arrival but almost excited about what he has in store for him. Ivan has said this man likes to be entertained, and he may not have been exaggerating.

"Dmitri Morozov can't be punished for leaving the grounds on the accused date because he left for an accepted reason."

"Holy shit," Ivan whispers. I look back to find a light switching behind his eyes.

"What, what, what?" I rush out, terrified about what he's just put together.

"There's only two acceptable ways to leave without notifying anyone when you've been caught. Death in the immediate family, or… fuck, he's really going to do it."

"What!" I demand, breathing heavily.

"We settled our negotiation on the day the accused was spotted," Apollo informs cryptically, handing a thick stack of papers to Will. "These things need to be handled in person, as you well know. Contracts signed in blood and all that."

Contracts signed in blood. What? The only contracts signed in blood are arranged marriages. I've never been more thankful for Apollo's genius.

"A marriage." The Lord chuckles, scanning the documents. "Clever. Any reason for the rush?"

Apollo sighs. "Why else does one rush a marriage? True love and the creation of heirs. If you'll excuse me, my brother-in-law and I have business to discuss. Consider this meeting a dismissal of my sister from all future classes. The Outfit no longer trusts Empire Academy with its women. You understand, don't you, Will?"

The Lord stiffens, but Apollo doesn't give him another opportunity to speak. He leads Dmitri away from the scene and directs Ivan with the tip of his head. Without needing anything more, Ivan ushers me away, too, following the pair of them toward where his plane is parked.