Chapter 15 Ivy
IVY
The way Konstantin moves is pure reflex—one hard step and I’m behind him. His men draw their weapons in the same breath. Steel clears leather with a sound I feel in my ribs.
“Ivy!”
The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Not with all the dangerous activity going on around me. I lean to the side and catch a glimpse around Konstantin’s arm.
Frank!
I only get a brief glimpse before Konstantin blocks me again, but I saw Frank standing across the street, his hair windblown and his cheeks red from the cold.
“Konstantin, wait!” I cry as my fingers earnestly grip his coat. “That’s Frank! Don’t hurt him!”
This time, Konstantin lets me move around him and my eyes immediately go to Frank. Now he stands with his hands raised, his face pale, and a look of pure terror on his face as he stares at the men holding guns aimed at him.
Konstantin doesn’t respond right away. His shrewd gaze scans our surroundings, his body tense as he continues to hold the gun aimed at Frank.
Viktor is positioned in the middle of the street, his eyes covering the area as well.
There’s at least five other guys, guns drawn, set up strategically around us.
Finally, Konstantin lowers his gun and nods at Viktor. Viktor lowers his and then the others do as well. Cautiously. As if Frank would or could hurt anyone! Especially Mafia guys armed with guns!
“Ivy?” Frank calls out, his voice a bit shaky. “What the hell is going on?”
I want to run over to him, give him a hug and just feel his familiar arms around me. The fear for not just his life, but for mine as well, shines in his eyes. His eyes keep bouncing between me, Konstantin, and the other guys.
“I’m alright, Frank,” I call out to him as I start walking across the street. Konstantin immediately falls into step next to me, one of his muscular arms snaking around my lower back.
I stiffen and shoot him an irritated glare, but Konstantin ignores it.
I know what he’s doing. This isn’t about my protection.
It’s him putting his claim on me, and I don’t like it one bit.
Well, maybe a little part of me likes the possessiveness, the way his strong arm feels around me.
It makes me feel safe, and the fact that he’s dangerous and knows how to take care of himself makes me feel even more protected.
But I don’t like him doing this in front of Frank.
Last time we saw each other, Frank had asked me to go to his family’s cabin for Christmas.
Everything has changed so drastically since then.
Not just for me, but for him, too. At least I know the reason—because I witnessed a murder.
But Frank is clueless. All he knows is we were together one moment and now I’m standing here with a Mafia boss’s arm wrapped around me.
We reach Frank, and if possible, his eyes widen even more. “The stalker?” he asks incredulously.
I stiffen, but Konstantin doesn’t react to Frank’s words.
“What are you doing with him?” Frank demands. His eyes narrow. “Do you know who he is? I mean, who he really is?” His lips firm and he stares deep into my eyes. “Is he forcing you to be here?”
This time Konstantin does stiffen, his fingers digging softly into my side. “Ivy is here of her own free will.” His voice is calm, almost polite, which warns me he’s insulted or angry. The quieter Konstantin is, the deadlier he is.
Frank scowls at Konstantin then looks back at me, a question in his expression. “Ivy?”
I’m trapped and I know it. God, I hate this.
I don’t want to hurt Frank, but he needs to know that I am not being forced and that I chose this.
As the FBI guys told me, anyone I’m close to can be used as a weapon against me.
They could be hurt or even killed. I can’t let anything happen to Frank, not because of me.
“It’s true,” I finally say, keeping my gaze steady with his to let him know I’m serious. “Konstantin… we’ve become… close.”
“She’s my fiancée,” Konstantin says bluntly when I hesitate. “We’re getting married on Christmas.”
“Married?” Frank echoes, his tone full of shock and confusion.
I wince. I can’t help it. And then I shoot Konstantin another glare for being so rude.
“It just… kind of happened,” I say lamely. When Frank’s eyebrows raise with suspicion, I hurry to explain. “I mean, we weren’t planning on getting married so soon, but, well—”
“We didn’t want to wait,” Konstantin interjects. “And now, as great as this little catch-up has been, we’ve got to go.” He turns to me. “Ivy?”
I clamp my teeth together to keep from chastising him, then try to smile at Frank. I know, even though I can’t see myself, that my smile is watery and sad.
“We have a lot to do,” I say softly.
Frank’s expression darkens. “So, has all this been a ruse because you couldn’t tell me the truth? That you decided to marry your stalker—”
“Tread easy, man,” Konstantin says. He let the nickname go earlier but obviously isn’t going to let it continue.
“Why did you have to pretend to be in trouble?” Frank continues, ignoring Konstantin. “Did you have to call me and be so secretive, act like I was never going to see you again?”
He must not have seen the news, I realize with a heavy heart. Frank doesn’t own a TV. He thinks they destroy minds. But I’m surprised he hasn’t at least read about my court appearance.
“Watch the news, Frank!” Irritation flows from my voice. “I witnessed a murder and have to testify. When I called you, I was going into the Witness Protection program and thought I’d never see you, or anyone else, again!”
Frank’s eyes flare wide and the color drains out of his face again. “Oh, my God, Ivy. I had no idea—”
“Enough,” Konstantin interrupts. “Let’s go, Ivy.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to argue. His hands dig into my side, not enough to hurt, but with enough pressure to turn me around and lead me across the street to where his car is waiting. I shoot an apologetic glance over my shoulder, then practically run to catch up to my… fiancé.
God, even with everything that’s happened to me over the last few days, calling Konstantin Mikhailov my fiancé is probably the most shocking.
Once we’re inside the car, with my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I turn to Konstantin.
“That was rude. You didn’t have to talk to him like that.”
“He needed a clean cut,” Konstantin says without remorse. “It’s kinder than letting him bleed out.”
“He’s a good person and doesn’t deserve this.”
Konstantin turns to look at me, his green eyes boring into me. He lifts a tattooed hand and gently brushes a strand of hair away from my forehead. “So are you, but that doesn’t stop bad things from happening to good people.”
“That’s a weird way of looking at things from someone who… well, from someone in your line of work.”
The heat in his eyes shifts, softens, becomes something that lands alarmingly low in my body. “I’m not all bad, Ivy,” he says softly, then turns and looks out the opposite window.
Why the hell do I feel guilty now? Did I hurt his feelings?
Can his feelings be hurt? Oh, no, I can’t think like that.
I’m the one who’s wronged here. I’m the one caught up in this impossible situation, forced to marry a man twice my age and whom I barely know.
I’m the one who just had to hurt a man I care deeply for.
We ride the rest of the way in silence, my wedding gown encased in its protective bag hanging from a hook inside the car a vivid reminder of just how drastically my life is going to change.
Every time I look at the window, I catch Konstantin’s reflection in it.
His profile seems carved in iron and discipline, the tiny muscle in his jaw moving when he thinks about shooting someone to make a problem simpler. That should scare me more than it does.
By the time we reach the estate, the gray sky has slid toward slate.
The gates open and we roll past the Mary statue with her chipped nose and the dusting of clean snow spread out on her shoulders like a shawl.
The house meets us with warm light and beeswax in the hall.
A guard I don’t know stands outside my door like a piece of furniture someone forgot to move.
He’s broad and young, with a nose that’s been broken at least once.
“I’m tired,” I announce to Konstantin and then go into my room and close the door before he can answer. Leaning my back against the door, I stand there for a moment to try and let my heart calm down.
The room smells like lavender and fire. Anya must have tended to the fireplace while we were gone.
I face the room and feel the weight of the last week all at once. I don’t want to marry the head of a Mafia family. I don’t want to wake up next to a man who gives orders to men with guns. I don’t want to live in a house where icons bless the doorways and pistols live in drawers with the cutlery.
I also don’t want to be dead. The simple math of that carries more weight than all the other variables.
My eyes catch my reflection in the mirror above the desk.
The woman looking back is a stranger wearing my bones and my mother’s mouth.
I remember one afternoon when I was eight, my father lifting me onto his shoulders to hang a paper star near the window for Christmas.
I remember how safe I felt up there, the house below me a world that couldn’t be invaded.
When Konstantin stands in a room, my body recognizes that same feeling.
I hate that. I don’t know what to do with it.
I don’t understand these conflicting feelings swarming through me.
I want to stay here where I’m the safest. I want to run far enough away so that no one can find me.
I want to feel Konstantin’s strong arm around me again.
I want to kiss him, find out if he tastes as good as he looks.
But then, I want to stay as far away from him and the danger he brings as possible.
I always thought I’d marry for love, if I ever got married in the first place. I’ve never been like a lot of my friends growing up, eager to find a husband and have a family. Marriage, to me, is a sacred thing, and if I ever chose to walk down the aisle, it would be the first and last time.
And now look at me! Ready to marry a man, a dangerous Mafia boss, whom I don’t love and hardly even know.
Shaking my head, I plop down on my bed, ignoring how the mattress reforms to mold to me so perfectly it’s like lying on a designer cloud.
I can’t do this. I’ve already put so many lives in danger and the longer I stay here, the more I’ll cause problems for Konstantin and his family.
The FBI can’t protect me, but then Vadim will be looking for me to be with either Konstantin or law enforcement.
If I’m on my own, maybe I have a better chance of hiding because it won’t be something Vadim would expect.
I nod, my mind made up. Tonight, after everyone is asleep, I’ll find a way out of here.