Chapter 13 #2
“No. You’ve reminded me every day since I was thirteen.” The resentment that had been brewing in my soul for the past ten years came bubbling up to the surface, and I was unable to hide it in my voice.
Lev must have sensed it because the background noise suddenly disappeared as if he’d moved into another room. “Lyla. Don’t forget why we’re doing this. What that bastard took away from us.”
From you, I almost said out loud.
“Just focus on the plan. Nothing else. Get the information we need. Don’t let yourself get distracted. Understand?” My eyes swept to Lukyan again. Too late.
“Is that it? I’m about to sit down for dinner.”
Lev blew out what I could only guess was a relieved sigh, thinking he’d won. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes.”
“You know I would do anything for you, right?”
No. “Yes.” If it came down to me or his revenge, I knew what he would pick…and it wouldn’t be me.
Lukyan stirred, a groan falling from his lips. My heart leaped in my chest.
“Alright, I really have to go.”
“Fine. Next check-in is in twelve hours. Answer my call. We’re so close to the finish line, Lyla. Only a little more to go, and we’ll finally have our vengeance.”
I rolled my eyes. Lev was so focused on getting revenge, he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
That I didn’t give a shit about it. I only cared because he did.
He was my brother. I loved him. When shit hit the fan, he was there for me.
Sheltered me. Protected me. Kept me safe.
I owed him so much more than my life. I owed him my loyalty, which was the only reason I had agreed to help him. Why I went along with his insane plan.
“Okay. Talk later.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
Cedric watched me, concern in his dark brown eyes. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“You’ve been with me every step of the way. Don’t you trust me?”
“You know I do, but”—his gaze flicked to Lukyan and back—“I worry you cannot think rationally around him. He clouds your mind.”
I smiled, and for once in my life, it was genuine. “No. He clears it.” I jerked my head to the side, and Cedric took it as the cue it was to leave.
I loved Cedric—not in that way. He was more of an overprotective uncle, even though we didn’t share any blood.
He was only a few years older, and had been there for Lev and me when we lost our home, helping us navigate the new world that had been thrust upon us.
When Lev turned eighteen, he assumed control, and the dynamic changed between us.
Cedric got pushed back, going from leader to glorified bodyguard.
He always said he didn’t care, but I thought a part of him secretly did, which was why he chose to stick by my side instead of Lev’s.
Tucking the phone back away, I quickly set the table, placing all of the food I’d cooked in a perfect display, finishing just as Lukyan’s head rose, half mast, disoriented eyes landing on me.
Showtime.
“Finally, you’re awake.” I offered a warm, kind smile so he would know he was in the presence of a friend, not an enemy.
Didn’t do much good. Once awareness snaked back into his bones, he jolted and immediately started pulling at the restraints.
“What the fuck?” Lukyan hissed, yanking hard with his arms. He wouldn’t be able to break free. I’d had metal cuffs five inches thick installed into the armrests.
“Who are you? What’s going on? Where the fuck am I?”
I kept the smile on my face as I adjusted one of the oven dishes, moving it an inch to the left, then the right. “I’m your wife, silly.”
“My—what?” He was still dazed, the effects of the drug still lingering in his system. He licked his dry lips and looked around the room slowly, taking everything in.
I’d purchased the house months before, when I first started putting in place the pieces for my plan.
It was a beautiful place. Sequestered. Far away from anyone else in case things got a little…
loud. Three stories. Stunning, dark antique features.
Real hardwood floors. Chandeliers on the fucking ceiling. The whole nine yards.
It was my dream home. Something I could see myself settling down and building a family in. It had everything I could ever want, including that warm, homey feeling I was never able to experience during my childhood.
After doing a lap of the room with his eyes, most likely looking for some form of escape—I know I would have been if I were in his position—he finally focused on the table in front of him. Hunger flashed in his startling blue eyes at all the food. My Lukyan loved food.
I’d been watching him closely for over a year.
Keeping track of his habits. Routines. What he liked.
What he disliked. His favorite foods. His style of clothing.
I had dozens upon dozens upon dozens of journals filled with every movement he made so that when the moment came—the moment where I finally had him in my grasp—I would know everything there was to know about him.
“You’re her, aren’t you? The woman who’s been stalking me.” He attempted to get free of his restraints again. “Let me go. Now.”
I internally shivered. Oh, that hard, dominating voice. How I would love to turn it around and have it laced with submission.
All in good time.
“I would love to, but I have a feeling if I did, you’d run.” With one final look at the table, I nodded, satisfied with the arrangement, and removed my apron.
Beneath it, I wore my nicest dress. A white spaghetti strap dress that flowed out at the bottom. I let loose my hair, the locks of honey blonde tumbling over my shoulders and down to my lower back.
“I wouldn’t run,” Lukyan said, watching me closely, his eyes clear and utterly focused. “I’d kill you.”
A tingly sensation ran down my spine. Oh, you’ll be so much fun to break.
“Would you?” I sat down at the other end of the table and fluffed out my napkin before placing it across my lap.
“A little harsh, don’t you think? I just went through all this effort to cook us a nice dinner in celebration of our anniversary. ”
“Our—our what?!”
“Our anniversary.” My hand reached out and clutched the wine glass next to my empty plate. I brought it to my lips and took a small sip, my eyes never leaving his. “It’s been nineteen months since we met. Do you not remember?”
Confusion and frustration mounted on his face.
“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense!
I’ve never met you in my life! Let me go.
Let me go now!” Lukyan struggled again, pulling his arms so hard he winced in pain, but he didn’t stop.
He grunted and snarled, thrashing his body left and right.
I continued to sip my wine. “Stop. You’re just going to hurt yourself, and seeing you hurt, hurts me, my love.”
“Don’t”—grunt—“call me”—snarl—“that!”
I sat there, watching him continue to struggle. I wasn’t lying. It genuinely hurt to see him like that, seeing his skin redden at the wrists because he was pulling so hard. But there was nothing I could do. He had to find out for himself how worthless it was to try to escape.
After a few minutes, he slumped back into his chair, breathing hard. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but whatever it is, you’re not going to get it.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious what I want.
” My eyes ran over him. Slowly. Methodically.
I lingered on every one of his features.
His sharp jaw. Silky, shoulder-length dark hair.
His eyes, which happened to look more turquoise than storm blue in that lighting.
His sculpted face and strong chin. I ran my gaze over every inch of him, every fiber in my body taut with possessiveness.
“I want you. I’ve done all of this”—I spread my arms out wide—“for you. So we can finally be together. We’re soulmates.
I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you.
That unbreakable connection. We’re meant to be together, and nothing and no one will stop us.
Our hearts are intertwined. Bound together by forces beyond our control. It’s destiny. Don’t you see? Fate.”
He stared at me, mouth slightly agape in what I could only describe as befuddlement. “Oh. You’re like, insane insane.”
“I prefer the term mentally spicy,” I said, taking one last sip from my wine before placing it back down.
“Call it what you want. Crazy is crazy.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d been called crazy. Let’s be real. It wasn’t the second or the third either. We were best friends, crazy and I. We danced side by side, forever teetering along that line together. That was why it never bothered me when people called me crazy.
I was.
And I liked it that way.
My eyes stayed locked with his as I dipped my fingers into my wine glass and brought them to my chest, letting the liquid drop onto my skin. “Don’t pretend like crazy doesn’t turn you on.”
His eyes flashed with heat, his gaze tracking the liquid as it trailed down between the valley of my breasts. He adjusted slightly in his seat. “What turns me on is irrelevant,” he grunted, voice rough.
A feeling of triumph shot through me. Yeah, he was definitely turned on by my craziness.
“You can’t just kidnap me and expect me to be with you. I’m promised to someone else—”
Hot, blazing anger exploded in my chest at the mention of him with someone else. I picked up a knife and slammed it into the table so hard that the tip embedded into the wood with a deafening bang.
He snapped his mouth shut, not saying another word.
Wise.
Just as fast as the anger came on, it disappeared, and I cleared my throat with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry about that,” I said, smoothing my hair. “I’m spontaneously violent.”
“Spontaneously violent,” Lukyan repeated, blinking slowly.