12. Ivan

CHAPTER 12

Ivan

L ucia insists on packing her bags before we go, leaving me standing here waiting for her to return. The Don remains in the room as well. Same as Adrian Rossi and Lukas, but all the women leave to assist Lucia. Several minutes pass and I decide to speak up, knowing I owe Nicolas at least that much.

"She'll be well taken care of," I state, because despite everything, I know he considers Lucia to be like a younger sister. This must be an incredibly frustrating situation for him.

"She would have been taken care of here, with her family."

"I can't argue with that, but you have to understand that she was always going to have to get married. I just helped to speed along the process a little."

"Not to you," he grits out, blue eyes hard and unyielding. "If you hurt her, Volkov, I swear to God you'll regret it. I'm trying very fucking hard to hold myself back right now. But the minute you harm a single strand of hair on her head, forget any stupid wars. I'll cut your throat in your sleep."

A little extreme. But I get it.

"Understood. She'll be treated like a queen. I give you my word."

I want so badly to tell them that I already care so much about Lucia. I can't help but feel that they wouldn't be so against this if they had any idea that we already established a connection prior to all this. I'm not a complete sociopath. I wouldn't barge into the home of a woman I didn't know and demand she be wed to me. Unfortunately, Lucia seems intent on keeping that information from her family.

Nicolas still doesn't look happy. Twenty minutes later, Lucia reappears, holding one suitcase while her sister wheels in the other one. I gesture for one of my guards to step forward and grab the bags. Once they're out of the room, Aurora Ramirez steps forward, rage clear as day in her brown eyes.

"I'm only going to say this once so listen carefully. If you hurt her?—"

I cut her off. "Yes, yes, your husband already threatened to slit my throat in my sleep. I understand."

"Fuck that, I'll skin you alive," she says murderously.

I pause momentarily, realizing for the first time that Lucia might have gotten her fire from her older sister. I'm impressed by the woman who stands tall in front of me, ready to go to war for her sister.

"She'll come to no harm. I promise," I repeat, knowing my promises probably mean nothing to them.

Lucia goes around the room saying her goodbyes. My chest flares when she throws her arms around Adrian Rossi. The fucker leans down to whisper something in her ear, and she seems to nod in agreement. I'm not sure I'm a fan of their relationship, considering I don't know what the constraints are.

Friendship or not, I don't want his hands anywhere near her again.

It takes a bit but Lucia is finally ready to leave her family home. I lead her into my car and open the car door like a gentleman. I expect the usual fire in her eyes, a glare, but all I get is ice as she slides into the back seat. And that's simply unacceptable.

She doesn't say a word the entire drive home and neither do I. Her expression doesn't so much as change as we drive into the villa. Her suitcases are carried in and the help are ready and on hand to show her around. I leave them to it, deciding to tend to an urgent matter.

I unintentionally leave her alone the entire day because my work runs late. It's 6 p.m. when I return home. Lucia's in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone and drinking some kind of green sludge from a cup. I take a moment to observe her, taking in the fact that she's actually here.

I'll never tell her this, but earlier today when I arrived at her family's house, I was prepared to let her go. If she was so intent on not marrying me that she would have risked the lives of the people she loved, then it wouldn't have been worth it at all.

"What changed your mind?" I ask, causing her head to snap up in surprise.

"You're back."

"Yes," I say, stepping into the kitchen and stopping just before the island where she's currently seated. "Tell me what changed your mind. Why did you agree to the wedding?"

Her eyes narrow. "You've been gone all day and an interrogation is what you want to start with?"

"Careful, Lucia. You almost sound like you missed me."

Her mouth curls downward in distaste. "I can assure you, I didn't. Where were you?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay long enough to roll out the welcome mat, milaya . I had urgent business. I trust you were treated well by the staff."

She shrugs. "They were all nice. I'm going to assume you have their families held hostage somewhere in order to get them to do your bidding."

I smile. "You go on assuming whatever you want, krasavitsa . Just tell me why you changed your mind."

"Isn't it obvious?" she asks, climbing off the stool and walking toward me.

It's then I notice the shorts she's wearing. Tiny shorts that barely cover her ass. My blood heats and I zero in on her exposed skin. Fucking hell. Is this woman trying to push me to the brink?

She must notice the effect she's having on me because she smirks, stepping even closer. Once she's within touching distance, she inclines her head, maintaining eye contact.

"Don't even think about flattering yourself, Ivan. The only reason I'm here is to keep my family safe. I'm not here for you. This marriage is a sham, and I'm going to spend every single waking moment of my time here reminding you of that."

She tries to step away but I put a hand on her waist, keeping her in place. The way her eyes widen and the light shiver that goes through her tells me everything I need to know. She's not as unaffected as she'd like me to believe.

I lift my other hand to push back some of her brown hair. She tries to shift from my grasp but falls still when I place my hand on her neck.

"You can try as hard you want to fight this. I'll enjoy watching it. But you'll eventually break, krasavitsa . And when you do, I'll be here to pick up all the pieces."

"I don't break," she whispers icily.

"No. Then perhaps you could try bending for me," I murmur, leaning down to inhale more of her sweet floral scent.

Her hair smells like apples. It's borderline addictive. Everything about her is. My fingers reach under the baggy shirt she's wearing, feeling for the skin underneath.

"We can start slow," I say softly. "I understand you're not a fan of my methods. You have every right to be angry with me, but I did what I had to do to get you here with me, Lucia. And now that I have you, I'm never letting you go."

"You're insane," she breathes, still keeping those amber eyes fixed on mine.

The way she's looking at me sends sparks across my skin.

"Maybe you're the one driving me crazy," I counter.

I'm currently rock solid beneath my pants. My skin burns hot under my clothes.

"I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to try to make this work, Lucia. Like I said, we can start slow."

Her lips part and I find myself drawn to them, suddenly wishing I'd had a taste of them that night. It was stupid of me to not want to kiss her. The idea of kissing has never really appealed to me, but with Lucia, I find myself wanting to test the bounds of this attraction. To know just how deeply she's burrowed herself beneath my skin.

"Stop looking at me like that," she cautions in a low tone.

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to decide if you want to devour me."

I smile. "Devour seems accurate. But really, milaya , I'm trying to decide if I'm going to kiss you."

Her eyes narrow. "You don't kiss."

"You're right, I don't. But if I wanted to, would you let me?"

"Try and find out," she whispers.

That's an invitation if I'd ever heard one. One thing I've come to understand is that we're both acutely aware of this fiery passion that exists between us. She might not like me very much right now, but I know she likes the feel of my hands on her skin. And I know she still dreams of that night.

I know she wants me just as much as I want her.

Every move the woman makes is intentional. If I was more clear-headed, I'd wonder why she's been so pliable. It all seems planned somehow. The shorts, her attitude. But I can't think about that, not when her lips are right in front of me. Inviting as fuck.

I lean down, my hands curling around her waist, tugging her against me. Her eyes fall shut in anticipation and my heart begins to race in my chest. Sparks break out across my skin as our lips touch, liquid heat spreading through my veins.

I was an idiot for not wanting to kiss her earlier. I nip at her bottom lip and she gasps, giving me an opening to slip my tongue into her mouth. Lucia moans, her arms gripping mine as the kiss turns more punishing. She responds well to my desperation, kissing me back just as hard. And I start to consider bending her over and fucking her right here.

Fuck taking things slow.

My thoughts are interrupted when there's the sound of a door opening.

"Ivan," a voice interrupts. "Are you home, brother?"

Lucia pulls backward and the feeling of euphoria that had been building inside of me shatters. It takes me a second to remember my surroundings. And to place who the voice belongs to.

Once I do, my jaw tightens. Of all goddamn nights for him to come home.

"Who is that?" Lucia questions, a note of panic in her voice.

"My brother," I reply, keeping my gaze on the doorway into the kitchen.

Alexei appears a second later. "Why didn't you reply?" he asks, not noticing Lucia yet.

She's behind me, my body concealing her.

"I was in the middle of something, Alexei," I say on a sigh, annoyed at his interruption.

"What?" he asks, confused.

I step aside so he can see her. As soon as their eyes meet, I swear my brother grows paler. Lucia makes a sound that's a cross between a whimper of surprise and a scream.

"Lucia?" Alexei chokes out.

My eyebrows rise at the obvious recognition in their gazes. "You two know each other?"

Alexei looks at me, seemingly getting over his earlier shock.

"What the hell are you doing with my ex, Ivan?"

I've always heard the phrase "feeling like a rug was swept out from underneath you." But it isn't until this moment that I truly understand what it really means.