Chapter 10 – Isabella #2
His finger traced my jaw, the touch feather-light but sending sparks racing across my skin. I allowed it and forced myself to remain still. This could work to my advantage—if he was attracted to me, I could use that. Even though the mere thought made my throat tighten.
I did not want unwanted attraction…from anyone.
And I did not want the jolt of electricity that shot through me at his touch. My breath caught when his finger reached my chin, and he tilted my face up slightly.
Our eyes met and locked. The calculation from moments ago shifted into something else entirely—something dark and magnetic that made my pulse race. His pale blue eyes had darkened, pupils dilated as he stared down at me. The air between us grew thick with tension, making it hard to breathe.
I recognized the danger in this attraction. This wasn’t just about physical chemistry—this was the kind of connection that could make me forget who he was, what he’d done. The kind that could make me slip up and reveal too much.
From the way his jaw clenched, the slight flare of his nostrils, I knew he felt it, too. Knew he recognized how dangerous this was becoming. His finger stilled against my chin, but he didn’t pull away.
Merda. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I could handle his intimidation tactics, his questioning, even his physical presence. But this…this magnetic pull was something else entirely. Something that threatened to shatter all my carefully maintained control.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the tension. “Sir? We’ll be encountering more turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
The voice felt like a bucket of ice water. I sucked in a sharp breath, reality crashing back. Dio, what was I doing? Getting lost in Ivan Zotov’s eyes like some lovesick teenager?
Zotov shifted back slightly though his hand remained at my waist. The small increase in space between us cleared my head a little but not enough. Not when I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, still smell his scent mixed with the recycled air.
“We should—” My voice came out embarrassingly husky. I cleared my throat and tried again. “We should go back.”
His eyes hadn’t left my face, that calculating look returning despite the lingering heat in his gaze. “Should we?”
Another knock. “Sir? You really should return to your seats now.”
Zotov’s jaw tightened, but he finally stepped back, letting his hand drop from my waist. The loss of contact shouldn’t have felt so significant. I straightened my shoulders, gathering my composure like armor.
Whatever had just happened—or almost happened—between us needed to be locked away and forgotten. I couldn’t afford distractions, not with so much at stake. Not with Mira’s safety on the line.
But as I slipped down from the counter, our bodies brushed unavoidably in the tiny space, and I knew something fundamental had shifted. The air between us crackled with unresolved tension, with questions neither of us had asked and truths neither of us had spoken.
I slipped past him, aiming for the door. My fingers had barely opened the lock when his hand wrapped around my waist, yanking me back against him. I spun around, and we were face to face again, close…too close. I pressed my palms against his chest.
His heart hammered beneath my right hand, the rapid rhythm matching my own pulse. Holy shit. He was just as affected as I was.
The realization sent a dangerous thrill through me. I should pull away. I needed to pull away. But his arm around my waist kept me anchored in place, and my traitorous body refused to fight it.
“Let me go,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His fingers flexed against my arm, not painful but firm. “No.”
The plane lurched suddenly, turbulence rocking us sideways.
My body pressed fully against his as we both fought to maintain balance.
His arm wrapped tighter around my waist, steadying me while he anchored us with his other hand and leg.
The protective gesture felt natural, instinctive—and that terrified me more than any amount of questioning or intimidation.
My hands fisted in his shirt, holding on as another wave of turbulence hit. The tiny bathroom seemed to tilt and spin, but Zotov’s body remained solid and steady against mine—an anchor in the chaos even though he was the last person I should trust to keep me safe.
His heart still raced beneath my palm, betraying that his calm exterior was just as much a facade as my own, as the door behind me opened.
His grip around my waist tightened. “This isn’t over, Shorty.”
I yanked free, letting my lips curl into a mocking smile. “This never started, Zotov.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” His eyes burned into mine, promising future confrontations.
“Keep deluding yourself that you’re in control here.” I turned away and faced the guy, who looked from me to Zotov before he stepped to the side.
I took an assertive step, but Zotov’s hand immediately found my lower back, guiding or pushing me firmly down the narrow aisle.
I met Mira’s worried gaze as we approached.
The slight furrow between her brows, the way she twisted her hands in her lap—my sister had always been worse than I was at hiding her anxiety.
I slipped into the seat beside her and turned to her, positioning myself between her and Zotov like a shield and blocking him out.
I could feel his eyes on me as he moved past us, but instead of taking the seat opposite us like before, he passed us and sat down farther away but directly in my line of sight.
I ignored him and focused on Mira’s presence beside me. She leaned closer, her shoulder pressing against mine in silent support.
Throughout the long-ass flight, I felt Zotov’s gaze like a physical weight. But at least he kept his distance and made no more attempts to engage with Mira or me.
Small victories.
I didn’t know what our destination was exactly, but we’d crossed the ocean and time zones for sure. I should’ve asked him about our destination instead of verbally sparring with him. At least then I could mentally prepare for wherever he was taking us.
But I didn’t want to break our temporary peace treaty.
I moved my feet and tried to find a more comfortable position.
The gentle hum of the engines and Mira’s steady breathing beside me gradually lulled me into letting my guard down. My eyes grew heavy as exhaustion from the past few hours caught up with me. As I drifted to sleep, my mind raced through possibilities—was he bringing us to Russia?
Probably not—they still needed us to pressure Vince into doing whatever they wanted him to do. So, at least for now, we still had value. And I would keep us both safe from whatever game Zotov and the mysterious Mr. Grey were playing.