Chapter Thirty-Three
Zane
It was way too early for Ivar to be storming into my office.
I didn’t need to ask why he was here; I already knew.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to push back the tension building in my head.
The last thing I needed was more to think about since Chloe was already consuming my every thought and I knew those thoughts wouldn’t stop until I figured her out.
Until I knew what she was hiding from me or what her role in all of this was, the real reason why we seemed to be all fucking connected.
But every time we were together, none of that seemed to matter. If she was a trap, then I was walking straight into it like an idiot and there was no way to stop it now.
For a while, I tried to resist her, denying her my kisses or the comfort of simple words. But every interaction with her only left me more entangled.
Every time I thought I had her figured out, she shifted, revealing another layer that made her even more irresistible than the one before. And as much as I tried to deny it, every fiber of my being was drawn to her, craving a connection that had always been so out of reach for me.
Claiming her wasn’t about breaking or taming her anymore, and I knew I would claim her the second she gave me the opportunity. But like everything about that woman, I didn’t see it coming like that.
When I entered her, she was surprisingly tight, but exactly how I’d wanted her to be. I knew she had been with other men, but maybe not as many as I’d assumed, and certainly not for a long time. Clearly, her line of business was not directly related to how experienced she’d be.
Yet, it was the best sex I’d ever had.
The most grounded and connected I’d been with anyone.
I could still feel the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the way she fit perfectly against me, like she was made to be there.
But she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be.
Chloe might’ve muddied the waters, but she hadn’t changed my plans. Not completely. But right now, I had to own the blame for why my plan last night had abysmally failed.
Ivar cleared his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. He looked pissed, his impatience written all over his face. I stood, walking around my desk to face him, trying to shove Chloe out of my head.
“What?”
“You tell me.” He snapped. “What the hell went on with you last night? We were supposed to wait until the end of the party, leave her outside, and watch what happened.”
“I changed my mind.” I said flatly, because the truth was something I’d never say out loud.
That there was a moment, while dancing with her, when my eyes lifted on instinct, scanning the room the way I always did, spotting every men shifting into position all around us. My men in place. The Tattalia guys ready for the blood if it came to that.
The board was set. The play unfolding exactly as planned. If anyone wanted to reach her, they’d only need to wait for the right moment and we knew exactly when that would be.
But then my gaze dropped… to her delicate hand resting on my chest, felt the way her body was so relaxed in my arms, her breath warm against my neck. And I couldn’t fucking do it.
I couldn’t bring myself to put her in even the slightest danger. We’d have to find another way.
“You changed your mind?” Ivar scoffed, his face darkening. “Whenever this woman is involved, everything changes, doesn’t it?”
My lips pursed. “Ivar—”
“You’re different with her,” he cut in. “I saw it last night. Hell, I see it right now! She’s not your prisoner, not your bargaining chip. She’s not even bait since you can’t bring yourself to put her in danger. You turned her into a fucking liability!”
My hands curled into fists. I knew he was right, but I couldn’t admit it. I couldn’t acknowledge how much Chloe had gotten under my skin, how much I’d have preferred to have her in my bed than to know she was being used in a crossfire.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me,” I warned. “And I’m not repeating myself.”
“She’s in your head!” Ivar pressed, “And it’s screwing up everything.
You know damn well she could be the key, but you’re too blinded by—by what, huh?
You don’t stick to the plan. You let her stay in your house like some princess.
Don’t tell me you’ve already had her in your bed and fucked that filthy pussy too—”
“Goddamn it, enough!” I snarled, rage boiling over as I lunged at him, my hand closing around his throat.
I shoved him back until his spine slammed into the wall. His face turned purple, his eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe, yet he didn’t look away. His gaze was defiant, daring me to do my worst.
“You know who else died that night, Zane?” His voice was a strained whisper, pain seeping through every word.
“My father. My fucking father was driving the car. So do me a favor and don’t turn this woman into something more if there’s even a slight chance she’s involved with them.
It’s the one fucking thing I’m asking you because I won’t be able to handle it. ”
I held his gaze a moment longer before letting him go, my hand dropping to my side as he gasped for a lungful of oxygen. His words sliced through my anger.
I knew where he was coming from; this revenge was as much mine as it was his.
“We’ll find out what her connection is in all of this and use it to our advantage,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the burning I felt inside me. “But don’t you ever speak about Chloe like that again.”
Ivar stumbled back, rubbing his throat where my grip had left red marks. “Sure, boss,” he muttered, coughing, hardly able to elicit a sound.
I’d never questioned Ivar’s loyalty, not before and not now because we’d been here before.
Since we’d been kids, we had fought like brothers, and this wasn’t the first time it had turned physical.
But he knew better than to push me too far.
He’d seen the things I was capable of, the ruthlessness I wielded when provoked.
He left, but I knew this wasn’t over.
His words lingered, though, and I couldn’t ignore them. Chloe had changed things, whether I wanted to admit it or not. But I couldn’t afford to let her compromise everything I’d built or all the things I still needed to do.
It was past my usual dinner time when I sat down at the head of the long table. The room was quiet, except for the faint clinking of silverware as Clarisse finished setting the plates.
Steak, roasted vegetables, fresh bread. Everything was the finest quality and none of it looked appealing.
I poured myself a glass of wine instead, swirling it around the glass as I stared at the liquid. It would distract me, I told myself. At least for a moment.
But as the minutes passed by, the chair next to me stayed empty.
Every time I heard a sound, I glanced at the door, half-hoping she’d walk in, although I’d told myself I didn’t care.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, setting the glass down so hard it exploded in my hand.
The men standing next to the window flinched, and I waved them off, not in the mood for their nervous glances.
I stared numbly at the open cut in my palm.
The truth was, I wanted her here.
Before I could stop myself, I was already walking upstairs.
I opened the door without knocking, and there she was, in the same curled up position she’d been last night when I came checking on her after our little argument.
She was still wearing my shirt like it was some kind of armor.
Only this time, I knew she was awake.
“Are you joining me for dinner?” I asked from the doorway, not stepping inside.
“No,” she quickly said, her voice sharp. She didn’t even move to look at me. Her legs were curled up, and my shirt covered just enough to keep me from seeing her bare ass.
I wished I could see her face.
I wanted to be pissed at her, to yell at her, to drag her out of bed and force her to do what the fuck I was asking for. It was my fucking nature. But I couldn’t. Not to her. Not when I could still taste her on my tongue and the way she’d tightened her warm pussy around me.
Letting out a breath, I walked away without a fight.
No way was I ever going to beg for her company.
Even though I really wanted to.