Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Isabella

Ever since he saw me on the phone, Lev has been acting strangely distant. It is hard for me to reconcile the fact that he's the same tender, passionate lover who took care of me on the beach—who wants to take care of me when our nights are filled with passion and our days are filled with planning, training, and preparation for what I know will be a monumental confrontation.

It's building. I know it is, and we can both feel the tension, like the climbing clicks of a roller coaster before it reaches the top, revealing the unknown ahead. I can only hope we don't hurtle to our deaths.

I tried to get him to talk to me, but he won't, which is totally in line with his character. I suppose I can't blame him. It looked suspicious. I'm protective of my friend, though, and it matters to me that she trusts me, too.

We are days out before the planned attack on Javier, and Lev has barely been home. I shoot him a text, hoping he can feel my simmering anger.

Are you coming home for dinner?

I don't get a response for an hour.

Maybe.

I slam my phone on the couch and anchor my hands on my hips.

It feels like we are an old, married couple trying to navigate a new season of life, but in reality, we're just trying to figure out who we are—on the brink of something new and life changing.

One moment, I feel as if I can fully trust him. I believe he has my best interest at heart, and the two of us will rule together. Next, I am catching my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Part of me knows that I have to prove my allegiance to him, but goddamn, I need him to prove his allegiance to me , too.

What ever.

I pick up my phone and send him another text.

I want an answer. Are you coming home or not?

I don't bother to hide the anger in my tone. I'm still his wife, at the end of the day, whether he trusts me or not, he should answer my texts.

Don't give me shit.

I will give him more than shit. I don't respond.

When seven o'clock rolls around, I stomp off to the fridge. I spent four hours training today, and I swear I feel every muscle in my body. My calves ache, my back throbs, but I am getting stronger with every day that passes. Javier won't see what hit him. Every time my body wants to give out, every time I want to give up, I think about those women back at home. I think about what it will mean when I take my rightful position as head of LSD.

I grab some leftovers, toss them onto a plate, and throw it in the microwave. It beeps a moment later, and I eat without tasting it.

I want this over with. And I want Lev and me on the same page again, goddammit.

Of course, at the back of my mind, a little voice says, Were we ever ?

It felt like it on the island. It felt like it when we were cooking together, sharing our hopes and dreams.

Then why the distance now?

I toss the dish into the sink.

"You're just gonna throw it in the sink? You're not gonna put it in the dishwasher?"

I spin on my heel, angrier that he came into the room without me knowing than I am about his admonishing me for a stupid dirty dish. "Yeah, I do my fair share of dishes around here. It's one fucking dish. When did you get here?"

"Just now. What did you eat for dinner?"

I shrug. "I have no idea."

He looks puzzled. My heart twists at the adorable furrow between his brows and his downturned lips. The shadow of stubble on his chin and the rumble of his voice.

He scratches his belly, and it's unnervingly boyish.

Damn it all to hell. I am mad for this infuriating man.

"Seriously, how do you not know what you ate?"

"Because I like everything in that fridge. I trained for hours, and I was starving. I was looking for food in my belly, not a delicacy." I huff and toss my hair. "Sue me."

We haven't had sex in four days and I'm feeling a little ornery.

"Jesus, woman. You're grumpy as fuck. Do I need to fuck this out of you? It's like you're hormonal and shit."

He's lucky all I have is a glass of water in my hand and not a gun. I toss the water straight into his handsome, arrogant face.

His jaw drops, water coursing down his cheeks in rivulets. I wish it felt more vindictive, but I only feel like a child who didn't get her way.

"What the fuck ?"

He stalks over to me, but I stand my ground. "Only a complete dick blames a woman's attitude on her period."

His eyes narrow on me. "I didn't say period. I said hormones."

"Same thing!"

He throws his hands up in the air. "When the fuck did I give you the impression I was a good guy?"

When did he tell me? He didn't need to.

When he carried me back after a jellyfish stung me. When he made me dinner. When he listened with sympathy when I told him about the bullshit my family put me through. When he defended me to his brothers. Me, Isabella Morales—Romanova.

No one's ever defended me in my entire life.

"You're right, Isabella. Honeymoon over ."

The shift hurts. The intimate moments we shared, the tentative plans for our future together. It's vanished overnight. I want to reach out to him. I want to cling to the closeness we had before.

He stops short a few feet from me, glares at me and grabs a dishtowel, running it over his face. I deflate a little. I wanted more of a fight from him.

"You piss me off so much. Jesus, woman." He turns away. I can see the restraint it takes for him not to lash out. His muscles strain. "I've got a lot on my mind, and you're acting evasive as shit. I can't help wondering what the hell you're hiding. Jesus, Isabella. Don't fucking push me."

"I didn't share one conversation with you, and you decide to question every interaction we've had? Every word I've spoken? You think I'm manipulating you? What are you playing at?"

His jaw clenches, and he doesn't respond. "You think I'm playing you ?"

My throat catches. I'm on the brink of losing everything. Fucking everything. What are we even fighting about?

"I need to know you're still loyal to us and not the LSD," he snaps.

"What else can I do to prove it to you? Hmm? What else do you want? Blood?"

I want to shake him until his teeth rattle. I want to scream until I'm hoarse. I feel helpless and angry, caught between one family that hates me and another that doesn't trust me.

"You were on a burner phone. That's not your regular phone."

I throw my hands up in the air, my temper boiling over. I half wish someone would douse me with water. "Of course I was. If anyone knew I was talking to Renata, they could trace me. But you don't care, Lev. You're too blinded by your trust issues to hear reason." My voice catches. It infuriates me. Tears blur my vision, which makes me even angrier. "I've been trying to find a way to protect us both. I've done nothing wrong. But you won't hear me."

It feels like the clouds have shifted, and darkness is creeping in, heralding a storm. Proving my loyalty to him will be a monumental task, but I'm determined to try. I'm all in with the Romanovs. I am all in with the plans he and I made to rule together.

"My trust issues?" He scoffs. " My trust issues?"

I throw my hands up. "What the hell?"

"If you trusted me, you would've had that conversation with Renata in front of me."

I blow out a breath. "Unbelievable." I roll my eyes. "What next? You want me to show you every text I send? You want to approve of who I can talk to and who I can't?"

His eyes narrow on me. Without a word, he turns and walks away.

"Hey! We're not done here."

" I am."

I watch his retreating back. My heart hurts. I want to be on the same team again. "I am not !"

"I'm not arguing over this anymore. For God's sake, yes. Yes. You have to prove your loyalty. But based on what Aleks just told me, you'll have your chance much sooner than later."

I swallow. A shiver of cold runs down my back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He looks over his shoulder, his expression dark. "Javier's on the move."

I'm at the top of that roller coaster, and the path before me looks fucking fraught. I can't see where it goes. What if I run straight off the tracks?

He stalks into his office and goes to shut the door, but I jam my foot in front of it. The room is luxurious and intimidating, with dark wooden furniture, rich leather chairs, maps, monitors, and a huge, imposing desk. He frowns at me from his desk but doesn't respond. He leans over and fires up his laptop. I watch as water from his face drips onto a map.

I normally love this room because it's an extension of him.

"Jesus, Isabella. Leave it."

"I want answers. What do you mean Javier's on the move?"

He walks away from me and paces back and forth, his expression dark and troubled.

"Our guy doesn't know where he is. No one does."

It feels like someone tossed ice down my back. I shiver. "No one?" Javier is a snake, crawling on his belly toward us, and no one can see him.

He shakes his head. "No one. We can only assume he's coming here and is ready to strike."

Fuck.

Of course he is.

My mind races. "Renata could find out."

Lev pauses, his eyes conflicted. His tee is still soaked with the water, his hair hanging down like he's a surfer who just came up for air. He frowns. "I've been hearing things. We suspect Javier's behind several attacks on our operations."

"What? He wouldn't risk open war."

Lev's voice tightens, filled with suspicion. "Are you sure about that? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear? How well do you know him?"

I stand, staring at him. "I'm telling you the truth. Do you think I'd lie to you after everything we've been through?"

He turns away, running a hand through his damp hair. "I don't know anymore. Your brother will stop at nothing to end us." His voice trails off.

I step closer to him. "And what do you see when you look at me, Lev? The woman who's risked everything to be with you? The woman who's fought by your side? Or someone who was sent to tear you apart?"

He doesn't meet my eyes. "I don't know who to trust."

My voice trembles. I hate that it does. "If we let them tear us apart, they've already won before the battle even starts."

"Then you can't keep secrets from me," he snaps.

"I haven't!" I know I haven't.

"According to Aleks, you have three burner phones, a wig, plus the knife I found in the bedside table."

I stare. I blink. "The phones were to call my connections in Colombia without bringing suspicion down on the Romanovs. The knife is for basic protection, and I certainly have no plans on using it. And the wig… my God, sue me if I thought it would be fun to do a little role play." My cheeks flame to think Aleks saw that. "You've been spying on me."

"It's my job."

I narrow my eyes on him. "Oh, really?" I clench my teeth. "How long, Lev? What will it take for you to trust me?"

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head, and for the first time, it looks like he's warring with his own doubt. He anchors his hands on his hips. "Come here."

"I'm not playing?—"

He reaches for me and grabs my wrist, yanking me against his chest. I slam against his hard muscles. His familiar scent makes me want to cry.

"What are you doing?"

"There's only one way to get the truth out of you."

Oh, no, if he thinks?—

His lips crash against mine. Our tongues meet. His dominance and my desire clash. I stifle a moan, instantly wet.

He pulls away and holds my gaze. "I must know if your loyalty is truly to my family alone."

Frustration and hurt well in my chest. "I've told you, Lev. I'm with you! But you keep doubting me, pushing me away. How can we ever move forward if you don't trust me?"

"How can I trust you when you keep hiding things that point to your guilt? It's like you're here, but your heart is still in Colombia."

My emotions threaten to choke me. "That's not fair! What more do you want from me?"

He blows out a breath and touches my shoulder. "I want to believe you, Isabella. But every time I let my guard down…"

"You don't have to prove yourself to me. You can trust me. I never betrayed you. Stop treating me like I did."

Lev's eyes flash with a mix of anger and vulnerability. He grabs my arm, our breaths mingling in the heated air.

I will try again. "Show me who you are behind this armor. Let me in."

He crushes his lips against mine, the kiss rough and demanding. He tears at my clothes, the room filling with the sounds of our desperate need. It's been days. It feels like an eternity.

He pushes me against the wall, his hands roaming over my body as if seeking silent reassurance. He cups my ass, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Our movements are frantic, driven by a need to prove something to ourselves. To each other.

He buries his face in my neck. I shiver, imbibing his scent. I lick his neck, relishing the salty taste of his hot skin, and he groans. "Sometimes I wish this wasn't who we are. Sometimes I wish we were normal people who had normal jobs and worried about shit like, should we get a dog, and when's the next fucking soccer game?"

I make a sound of disgust. "That sounds so basic and boring as fuck ." I kiss the underside of his jaw, heat rising in my belly, primal need clawing at my chest. I want him inside me so badly I could cry.

"Maybe normal is underrated," he whispers in my ear.

"Let's get through this," I whisper back. "And then we'll give it a go, mi querido jefe. "

"Deal, mi reina ." My heart surges in my chest. My queen.

"Are you hitting the Duolingo again?" I grin against his neck, and he slaps my ass. I close my eyes and moan.

"Aleks has a new housekeeper who speaks Spanish. I've been quizzing her."

That's so fucking adorable. I push back on his chest and frown at him. "Is she young and hot?"

He holds me with one hand while he yanks my top off with the other. I reach for his tee and pull it up and over his head. I stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the corded muscles at his neck and back. I kiss the tats on his arms.

"No," he snorts. "She's like a sixty-year-old grandma."

I kiss him. My tongue meets his. He utters a low, male sound of approval that does delicious things to me.

"Oh good, maybe she can make me tres leches. "

He bends my head back and kisses my neck, and I moan. "Thought you didn't eat cake."

I swallow, the rough, hot feel of his tongue making me crazy. "For tres leches, I make an exception."

He grins. I swoon. Christ, my husband is a fucking god. Wordlessly, he lifts me onto his desk, pushing papers and maps aside. Pens bounce off the floor and something inside me thrills at his carelessness. He wants me.

With one hand gripping my thigh, he uses the other to open the huge window behind me, letting in the cool night air and the distant sound of the city. I thrill at the exposure, the knowledge that a whole city is right outside. I catch a glimpse of us in one of his huge monitors and grin.

He tears my clothes away and growls into my ear. "You're mine, Isabella. Do you understand?"

I moan, my nails digging into the tats on his back. "Yes, Lev. I'm yours. Only yours."

Gripping me with one hand, he unzips his fly with the other. I hold my breath at the sight of his thick, throbbing cock. I want him in me. I can't fucking breathe until he's in me.

My head falls back when he shoves my thighs apart. I'm gripping his shoulders, but my hands are slick with sweat. I'm slipping. I fall, and he catches me in his strong, capable hands.

Our bodies move together in a fierce rhythm, the world outside disappearing as we lose ourselves in each other.

His phone rings over and over again.

"I have to take that," he says in my ear. I open my mouth to protest. "Don't say a fucking word, or I'll punish you."

I bite my tongue and grin as he stabs his phone and hits the speaker.

"Yeah?"

He shoves into me so hard a spasm rushes through me. I close my eyes. Someone talks to him in Russian, and he answers in grunts. I bend my mouth to his chest and lick his nipple. He hisses in a breath and yanks my hair.

How did I not know how sexy it was to hear him growl in Russian? He thrusts into me, again and again, taking the call, growling into the phone, and finally slamming it off, never losing his pace.

As he ends the call, his control snaps. He shoves everything aside and gives me the full heat of his focus. My head falls back, and I scream my release as he roars and spills inside me.

I'm drowning in bliss, blind to everything but the feel of his hot body against mine, the flood of ecstasy in my limbs, his hot seed lashing into me. I come again, a second climax on the cusp of the first. I scream until I'm hoarse. I slump against him, hot, wet, and utterly boneless. I can't move. The hounds of hell could be at my back, and I'd collapse in front of them.

Our breathing is heavy, our hearts beating as one in a rapid tempo. He wraps his arms around me. I vaguely wonder how he's still standing.

"Thought you had questions for me," I tease, my eyes closed and a smile on my lips. "I thought you were going to interrogate me with your cock."

"You were the one who had to go and bewitch me," he rasps in my ear. "Got anything to tell me?"

I pause. I know what I want to tell him, but it's too soon.

Isn't it?

I love you, Lev Romanov.

I can't breathe when you're not here.

You make me ache in all the best ways.

I love you.

I nestle against his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart.

"No," I whisper. "Got anything you need to ask?"

He sighs. "No. I don't want to lose you, Isabella."

"We're going to make this work."

He nods, stroking his fingers lazily through my tangled hair. "I have to go. That call was urgent. I need to meet one of my men."

"Javier?" I ask.

"Yeah."

I swallow. "Can I go?"

Shaking his head, he holds me to his chest. "I wish you could. You're safer here for now."

For now.

I don't want to see him go.

I can't explain it, but it feels like if I let him go out that door… he'll never come back.