Chapter 24 – Isabella
ISABELLA
The sun beat down on my skin, deceptively cheerful for a day that might determine whether I lived or died.
Because if Grey had fooled Ivan and dared to lay his hands on me again, it was either him or me who would survive.
I settled into one of the plush loungers by the pool, trying to look relaxed while my mind remained on high alert.
Roman had escorted us here before disappearing to take up a position somewhere.
The chlorine scent drifted up from the impossibly blue water, mixing with the salt air carried on the stiff breeze from the nearby ocean.
Apparently, there was a storm approaching that might hit the island later today.
Mira sat beside me, her presence as familiar as my own shadow.
Around us, our unlikely circle formed—Jemma lounging with casual grace, Fee adjusting her sunglasses, Cara perched nervously at the edge of her chair.
Nina and Mila completed our group, their postures mirroring mine—seemingly casual but with a constant awareness of our surroundings.
I hated this waiting game. Every moment Grey remained on the island was another moment of danger.
But Ivan was right—it was smarter to wait for his departure before making our move.
The thought of Ivan sent an unexpected warmth through me, my body still carrying the memory of his touch from last night—followed by a substantial wave of regret.
What had I been thinking letting my guard down so completely?
I’d panicked when I woke up alone and found the door locked.
But as soon as he came back, I realized how quickly and completely I’d come to trust him and his siblings—people who had been enemies just days ago.
There was something about the way he looked at me, the way he trusted me, that made it so much easier to trust him, as well.
Which was not smart at all. If I’d learned one thing in my life and with my upbringing, it was that feeling too deeply was never a good thing.
“So,” Jemma broke the silence, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, “are you finally going to tell us exactly what happened with Grey the day before yesterday?”
Seven pairs of eyes turned to me, expressions ranging from concern to intense curiosity.
I shrugged, keeping my voice deliberately casual. “He tried to interrogate me. It didn’t go as planned for him.”
“That’s it?” Fee raised an eyebrow. “You come back drugged out of your freaking mind and only half-conscious, and that’s all we get?”
“There’s not much to tell.” I ran my fingers through my hair, avoiding direct eye contact. “He wanted information; I didn’t give it to him.”
The truth was more complicated. Fragments of my interrogation with Grey kept surfacing in my memory—his questions about my hacking skills, mentions of my mother, the way he’d looked at me.
I couldn’t be sure what I’d done under the influence of the drugs he’d given me.
Even though Ivan assured me I couldn’t have done much damage in the short amount of time he had me.
But what if his sudden departure meant he’d gotten what he wanted from me? The thought made my stomach clench.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Mira said quietly beside me. “At least to me.”
“Well, let’s talk about Ivan Zotov then,” Fee said, then waggled her eyebrows.
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Wait, was she trying to steer the conversation away from Grey? Not that Ivan was a safer topic at all.
Mila leaned forward, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Yes, let’s talk about my brother. Is he responsible for that glow?”
I brushed my burning skin. I didn’t blush easily, so hopefully, at least my body wouldn’t confirm her suspicion before I could deny it. Now I just needed a comeback to shut it all down.
“Oh my God,” Nina chimed in, eyes widening with delight. “Ivan barely left your side for twenty-four hours. He wouldn’t even let us help look after you.”
The other women reacted instantly—Fee’s mouth dropped open, Mira gasped softly, and Jemma let out a low whistle.
“It’s not—” I started, then stopped, and my chest became increasingly tight. What wasn’t it? Not what they were thinking? It was exactly what they were thinking.
“Can we please change the subject?” I muttered, uncomfortable with the attention.
“She’s blushing,” Mira said, sounding annoyingly pleased. “I’ve never seen Bella blush over a man before.”
I shot her a betrayed look, but found myself fighting the unexpected urge to share and get their opinion. These women formed a strange circle of safety in the middle of danger, and the easy way they were teasing reminded me of the kind of friendships I’d been missing all my life.
“So you and Ivan…” Jemma trailed off suggestively.
“It’s complicated,” I admitted, surprised by my own honesty.
“Complicated how?” Mila pressed, leaning closer. “We’ve known Ivan for years. He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger—a nervous habit I thought I’d outgrown. “There’s some spark between us, but…” I shrugged, not knowing how to express the tangle of emotions I felt. “Given the circumstances, it’s not exactly ideal.”
“If you’re playing with him, don’t,” Nina said, her playful tone suddenly hardening. “He’s been through enough.”
The protective edge in her voice surprised me. I’d known intellectually that the Zotov siblings were close, but this fierce protection gave it emotional weight. These weren’t just colleagues or even friends—they were a unit forged through something brutal.
“I’m not the one playing games,” I said quietly, meeting Nina’s eyes directly.
The intensity of Nina’s stare made me uncomfortable, and a spark of self-preservation made me redirect. “Speaking of playing games, what’s the story with you and Matt, Nina?”
Nina froze mid-movement, her body tensing so quickly, it was almost comical. Beside her, Mila’s eyes widened, her head snapping toward me in surprise.
“There is no story,” Nina said, her voice flat and empty.
But her body told a different tale—the slight whitening of her knuckles, the almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw, the way her eyes fixed on a distant point beyond the pool.
Something significant had happened between her and my brother—something that had affected her deeply, and it cost her a lot of effort to hide the effect he still had on her.
Did they hook up, only for him to dump her?
“Well, that was convincing,” Fee drawled, breaking the tension.
“Almost as convincing as Jemma pretending she wasn’t head over heels for my brother after knowing him for about five minutes,” I shot back, deliberately changing course.
Jemma grinned, unrepentant. “What can I say? When you know, you know.”
“I hadn’t even seen you since the wedding,” Cara said, her voice soft but warm. “It all happened so fast.”
“Speaking of fast,” Jemma said, her eyes twinkling as she turned to Cara, “I’ve noticed Cristo Falcone can’t take his eyes off you.”
Cara’s cheeks bloomed with color. Her fair complexion couldn’t hide her blush at all. “Cristo is just being nice. I’m sure he’s like that with everyone.”
“Oh, honey”—Fee laughed—“Cristo is many things, but ‘nice to everyone’ isn’t one of them.”
“He’s actually not at all how he seems,” Cara admitted, her blush deepening. “He’s calling me topolina di biblioteca—little mouse.”
I exchanged a glance with Jemma, both of us biting back smiles. Cristo had nicknamed Jemma’s shy, bookish sister after a little library mouse—it was unexpectedly fitting.
“Is it a requirement that we all fall for dangerous men with tattoos?” Fee asked, tipping her sunglasses down to peer at us over the rim. “Because I’m seeing a pattern here. Maybe it’s genetic? This attraction to men who could kill someone with their pinky.”
The laughter that followed felt genuine, creating a brief bubble of normalcy in our surreal situation. For a moment, we were just women sharing stories and teasing each other about men, not enemies discussing morally grey criminals.
“Sometimes, the most unlikely and dangerous choice turns out to be the right one,” Jemma said, a surprising wisdom in her voice as she adjusted her wedding ring. She sure didn’t sound her age, considering she was the youngest amongst us.
I was about to respond when movement caught my eye.
My body tensed instinctively as I spotted a group of men approaching from across the compound.
If something went wrong… The shift in my demeanor wasn’t lost on the others.
The laughter died away as backs straightened and casual poses transformed into readiness.
Even Mira and Cara, the least experienced among us, seemed to sense the change in atmosphere.
As the men drew closer, I recognized my brothers and cousins—Cristo leading with his usual commanding presence. My cousin sure was no longer the annoying boy I had been used to. Matt was slightly behind him, talking to Alex—those two could never beat the soul-mate allegations.
And then I saw Ivan next to Vince. Oh, no.
They walked slightly apart from the others, Ivan’s movements controlled and precise.
As they reached us, the dynamic shifted immediately.
Vince positioned himself near Jemma, his hand brushing her shoulder in a gesture both possessive and reassuring.
Alex gravitated toward Fee, whose expression softened almost imperceptibly.
Cristo made a beeline for Cara, dropping onto the lounger beside her with a casual grace that nevertheless put him between her and everyone else.
Ivan remained standing, keeping a careful distance from me. The space between us felt vast and deliberate.
When his eyes found mine across the distance, electricity shot through me—a visceral reminder of his body against mine last night. But then his gaze slid away, deliberately casual, as if I were just another person at the pool.
The contrast between that coldness and last night’s intimacy hit me like a physical blow.