Chapter 20 – Ivan
IVAN
Ipulled back from our kiss though every instinct in my body screamed to continue. The warm bathwater lapped around us, creating gentle ripples that matched the racing of my pulse.
Shorty’s eyes fluttered open, confusion and desire mingling in their depths. Her lips, still swollen from our kisses, parted slightly as if to ask a question.
“That’s as far as we go,” I said, my voice rougher than intended. “Until you’re fully recovered.”
A flash of disappointment crossed her face before she masked it—that and her defiant, “I’m fine,” flooded my body with heat and desire.
My little Shorty wasn’t fine, but she was definitely adorable on top of hot and sexy.
“You were drugged and unconscious less than twenty-four hours ago,” I reminded her, keeping my arms around her waist to maintain our connection. “Your body is still metabolizing whatever Grey pumped into you. You’re not fine.”
She huffed but didn’t pull away. Her skin was warm against mine, the curves of her body fitting perfectly against the hard planes of my chest. I’d never held anyone like this before—with tenderness, with restraint. Sex had always been straightforward for me—a purely physical thing and nothing more.
But this—this was different. She was different.
“Since when are you so noble?” she asked, her breath tickling my collarbone.
“I’m not,” I mumbled against her forehead. “But I want you to be sure. I want you clear-headed when you decide, and I want you at 100% when I fuck you.”
Her sharp inhale was music to my ears.
The truth was, I’d never declined sex before.
Never cared enough about a partner’s state of mind to hesitate or even demand clear consent.
But the thought of taking advantage of Shorty’s vulnerability made me physically ill.
I wanted her—God, how I wanted her—but not like this.
Not when there was any chance she wasn’t completely sure or might regret it later.
She settled against my chest, settled her head against the hollow beneath my chin as if she’d always belonged there. We sat in silence for a while, the water cooling around us, neither willing to break the fragile peace we’d found.
“Why did you help me against Grey?” she finally asked, her voice soft but direct. “Because you can say what you want, but you helped keep him at a distance. You warned me against him. Why did you do that when he’s your boss? Why do something like this?”
The question hung in the steamy air between us, weighted with implications. What should I tell her? Why indeed? Because Grey’s behavior wasn’t right? Because it was my duty to protect her as an asset? Or because of something far more dangerous—something I wasn’t ready to acknowledge?
“It was the right thing to do,” I said carefully, starting with the safest explanation. “Grey crossed a line. Using experimental drugs on you, risking your life—that’s not how the Paraskia operates.”
She shifted in my arms, raised her head to face me.
Her dark eyes were sharp, cutting through my bullshit with surgical precision.
“But that was after… You were protective of Mira and me way before that,” she said, with a challenge in her eyes and a clear promise she wouldn’t let me off the hook with some superficial answer.
“Tell me the truth. I need to know who you really are before I can decide if I trust you.”
I almost laughed. Trust. Such a simple word for something I’d never truly given or received outside my siblings. Trust meant vulnerability. Vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness got you killed in my world.
And yet here we were, naked in a bathtub. Did it get more vulnerable than this?
“You don’t know if you trust me, and yet you would have had sex with me just a moment ago,” I pointed out.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Sex and trust aren’t the same thing.”
“They should be.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, surprising us both. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d never once in my life thought trust had anything to do with sex. When did I turn into a sentimental fool?
And Shorty knew it, too. She cocked her head and stared at me without uttering another word.
“Grey’s behavior has been…erratic lately,” I said. “He’s been taking unnecessary risks and following his own agenda. I’m not ready to risk our exit by not being critical of him and his actions.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Your exit?”
Should I really tell her? Did I actually trust her enough to tell her?
“We’ve served long enough. Paid our debt. We’re starting our own thing—a fresh start, clean slate, no strings attached.” I paused, weighing how much to reveal. “Grey’s obsession with getting his hands on you was definitely a red flag. He’s ready to go against the organization just to get you.”
“I noticed,” she said dryly.
“Whatever his obsession with you, it’s both professional and personal,” I continued. “He needs your skills for something very specific. How good a hacker are you really?”
She hesitated, watching my reaction carefully. “Better than most,” she admitted finally. “I’ve gotten into some systems that were supposed to be impenetrable.”
“And Grey wanted you to hack into the Paraskia’s database,” I mused. “Which means there’s areas of that database he can’t access himself. Did he say what he wanted you to do?”
She sighed.
Having no clear memories around this must suck. I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “He didn’t hold you all that long, so I think the chances of you having succeeded are minimal. Also, you had a bad reaction to the drugs; I don’t think you were physically able to hack into anything.”
She shivered slightly. Was it because of the topic or the water that had grown cool around us? Anyway, it was time to move.
“We should get out before you catch a chill.”
I helped her from the tub, wrapped her in a thick towel, and grabbed one for myself.
We moved to the bedroom where I found gym shorts that almost reached her calves, one of my shirts, and a hoodie, and handed them to her.
She slipped them on while I turned away to give her privacy, using the moment to put on dry clothes myself.
“You should rest,” I suggested, nodding toward the bed.
She shook her head, clutching my dress shirt tighter around her small frame.
She looked fucking adorable in my too-big clothes. Adorable and sexy.
“I’ve been unconscious long enough. I want to know what’s going on,” she said.
Her stubbornness shouldn’t have been endearing, but somehow, it was. I grabbed my phone, making a quick call to Mila to arrange for more fitting clothes for Isabella, then gestured toward the sofa.
“Then let’s talk.”
She settled on one end while I retrieved the file from the coffee table and handed it to her. The folder was thick with papers—surveillance photos, financial records, notes from conversations my siblings and I’d had with contacts throughout the organization. All centered on Grey.
“You’ve been investigating him,” she observed as I sat beside her, close enough to feel her warmth but not touching.
“Not really, not until recently. My siblings and I just like to be prepared,” I explained, opening the file. “We’ve noticed some discrepancies. Operations that weren’t officially sanctioned. Money trails that didn’t add up. So we’re digging.”
I spread several documents across the coffee table, aware of how new this felt, how intimate—sharing intelligence with someone outside my circle of trust. Yet somehow, it felt right.
Natural, even. I never once thought Shorty could be a threat or regarded her as an enemy.
Sure, I was pissed to be a part of that dang kidnapping mission, but it was never about her personally.
“Grey’s running something on the side,” I continued. “Something big enough that he’s willing to risk exposure to erase the evidence.”
Isabella leaned forward, her analytical mind visibly engaging with the problem. “That trafficking thing, was that a Paraskia operation?”
The dress shirt gaped slightly at her neck, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone. I forced my gaze back to the documents. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think so.”
“So what is this Paraskia Syndicate all about? What’s his position, and why doesn’t he have access to the database?”
“One-sentence answer? The Paraskia had started as an alliance with the biggest crime organization in the world to maintain global stability and prevent large-scale conflicts.”
She scrunched her face and looked at me. “Sounds like a convenient catch-all.”
I shrugged. “It’s not. It’s more of an oversight committee that tries to keep everything in balance.”
“In balance—are you kidding me?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “You have to look at it globally.”
She did not look convinced at all, and I couldn’t fault her for that. “Then who is Grey?”
“He’s pretty high up, to be honest.”
“And you?”
I smiled. “Not as high up.”
She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrow. “So why does he need access to the Paraskia database when he’s one of the higher-ups?”
I shrugged again. “Maybe he’s not high enough? Best guess? There’s either something in there he wants to know or something he wants erased.”
“And he needs me to access it,” she murmured, scanning the papers with practiced efficiency.
“Or maybe he’s just taking advantage of the situation.”
“Because by bringing me here, he had something to pressure Vince into coming—”
“Which was the Paraskia’s goal and the actual official mission.”
The realization hit me suddenly—we were working together as if we’d been partners for years instead of adversaries for days.
No professional distance whatsoever. And who was I kidding?
Half an hour ago, I was naked in the bathtub with her.
Professional distance? There hadn’t been any professional distance between us since the moment I tackled her to the ground.