Chapter 16 Just Like His Other One
Just Like His Other One
Isla
Fucking hell, Roman was obviously out to destroy me.
Our last interaction left me in shambles, and yet, here I was at this dinner, pressed against him.
He smelled like heaven if heaven was a six-foot-five tattooed man with the most mesmerizing blue eyes and a hypnotic deep voice.
If heaven was tender and gentle, funny and considerate, and always knew how to melt all of me with his smile, then that’s where I was—pressed against heaven.
I was so incredibly torn. I wanted him—so fucking much—but I knew, I knew that he only wanted what he always did, and my heart wouldn’t survive another calamity that this was bound to end up in.
But why did he say I was oblivious?
The dinner dragged on, and I made small talk with whoever I needed to, his hand never letting go of mine. It was painful being beside him like this, knowing what he wanted, but we were here now; there was no turning back.
Our table was filled with what I assumed were his business partners, their wives and girlfriends beside them. And one man…was really killing me with his gaze.
"And what do you do, Isla?" The lady beside me asked sweetly. Before I could even open my mouth, Roman appeared behind us out of nowhere and answered the question directed at me.
"Isla’s going back to med school in September." His deep and commanding voice made us both turn. I shot my gaze up at him, surprised at his words, but he was looking right past me.
"Med school? Really? Good for you. Where are you studying?" The man who was devouring me with his eyes somehow joined in on this conversation.
"She's going to Columbia. She had to take a break, but she's planning to go back this year." Roman spoke up again, and I was absolutely floored at his words.
First of all, how on earth did he know that Columbia was where I studied?! I never told him that; I was sure of it. Secondly, why did he lie like this? He could have made anything else up.
"Isla, let's go grab a drink." Roman held out his hand for me but looked at the hungry-eyed man.
"How did you know I studied at Columbia?" I directed the question at Roman as we made our way to the bar. He said nothing, only squeezed my hand tighter and continued walking. "Roman, tell me."
Instead of responding, he ordered drinks at the bar, mindlessly staring somewhere unknown. "I'm standing in front of you and talking to you, Roman!” I was annoyed at this point. What the fuck was that back there?!
"Just guessed.” He shrugged as he passed me a drink.
“You said you studied in New York." I also had never said that!
"I did some research and called some people, and if you want, you can go back in September. Either somewhere here or Columbia—they’re waiting for you.
But I'm really hoping you won't pick New York.
" Roman finally faced me, a sad smile on his face.
What the actual fuck?! This was like getting hit over the head with a frying pan.
It very quickly clicked in that he obviously either already paid for something or was about to make that decision.
And what kind of phone call did he have to make for Columbia medical school to take me back with such short notice? !
"What are you talking about?" Confused and annoyed, I made a last-ditch effort to convince myself this wasn’t what I thought it was.
"Listen,” he began somberly. “I really thought about it, and I think you should go back to school.
That's what you want to do, and that's what you should do.
What is this job going to give you? You need to follow your dream, Isla.
I will obviously pay for it all." Roman finished his sentence and took a sip of his drink, looking down at me from his height.
"Why?! Why would you do this, Roman?! You don't even know me!"
"Ugh, Isla.” He shook his head in defeat. “Just shut up. Stop arguing and just accept something nice that someone does for you, okay?" His demeanor changed in a second, like he was annoyed that I wasn’t thrilled about this.
"I don't need anyone to do anything for me.” Such bitterness overwhelmed me.
What the hell was this, a pity party? “I know I will eventually go back, but not like this! Not with a random guy paying for my school! What the fuck! What the fuck kind of behavior is this?! Who the hell do you think you are to not only decide for me but also do it without my knowledge?!”
I got it all off my chest, my face blazing red, but right then, the man from our table who couldn't stop looking at me came right up to us. He wore a very fake smile, but the moment of silence between us all gave me a chance to catch my breath and still the fury inside me.
"Isla, this is Sergei. Sergei, this is Isla." Roman introduced us coldly, watching Sergei like a hawk.
"It's a pleasure, Isla." Sergei spoke softly, grabbing my hand and kissing it. "May I have this dance?"
Before I could respond anything, he tightened his grip and almost yanked me to him and onto the dance floor. A little thrown off, I threw Roman a glance, catching his death stare.
Sergei slid his right hand around my waist and began moving to the music, clearly skilled at leading.
Breathing deeply and still fully entrenched in my conversation with Roman, I moved my feet to the music, having years of experience on the dance floor.
When I was a teenager, I almost made it to the nationals in Latin and ballroom dance, so Sergei had fucking nothing on me.
Yeah, I was always competitive and hard-working.
What started off as a hobby when I was a kid became almost a career when I was sixteen.
But I always knew I wanted to attend medical school, so I had to abandon the dancing dream.
And then, all my dreams were abandoned. But here was Roman, clearly determined to revive one of them, without me even knowing it!
"How do you know Roman?" Sergei ripped me out of my thoughts, his voice sickly sweet.
For some reason, his smile genuinely scared me.
He was tall, the same height as Roman, but he was the complete opposite.
Sun-bleached blonde hair, no visible tattoos, an expression of innocence, but…
something sinister and evil lurked behind his eyes.
I didn't know what to say, exactly. Tell him that Roman rescued me from a burning building, and I spent almost a month living with him and now wanted to fuck him every second of every day?
"We just met recently. How do you know him?" I did my best to just move the conversation forward while Sergei masterfully spun me around the dance floor, obviously also knowing what he was doing.
"I'm his friend and business partner. I don't ever recall him mentioning you." Sergei threw me another perfect grin, and it made me want to hurl. "Are you dating?" He shot out the unexpected question, his grip on me as tight as ever. Why the fuck was he so interested?!
"No," I answered simply and smiled too, trying to hide my discomfort.
"That's understandable. Roman would never go for a girl like you. He likes his women...beautiful and tall. Like that one. See?" And he leaned in closer and pointed to a woman across the dance floor.
Indeed, she was tall and beautiful, her long blonde hair falling past her shoulders in relaxed waves. But she had an expression of total and utter disinterest, her facial muscles not even moving while multiple men tried to engage her in conversation.
"You mean that whore-looking one over there?" I retorted back angrily, jealousy erupting inside me at the thought of Roman with someone like that. At the thought of Roman with anyone…but me.
Sergei scoffed, and his less than subtle efforts to put me down confused and alarmed me. Why were we even speaking about this?
"Hmm...I can see why he keeps you around, though. That mouth of yours is skillful...maybe in more ways than one." Sergei spun me around once more, his eyes burning a hole in me.
I hated him. I was repulsed and disgusted just being near him, and all of a sudden, his hand slid down my hip and over the swell of my ass.
"Don't touch me like that," I spat back, my body recoiling at the touch, but Sergei smiled wider. Right behind him, I caught sight of Roman beelining it for us, shoving a dancing man out of his way as he took quick strides closer and closer.
But it wasn’t fast enough because Sergei had something else to tell me.
"Don't be scared, Isla...I won't do anything inappropriate here on the dance floor.
My wife is only a few feet away. No. I'll make sure to find you.
..when you're alone. Just like his other one.
" The threat registered in my mind right away, and my blood turned cold as my legs stopped moving, the shock hitting immediately.
Our rhythm lost, we slowed down and stopped, Sergei still holding onto me with force.
I must have been trembling because he looked me over and pouted dramatically, his next words barely above a whisper.
"I hope you're shaking from fear and pain next time I get my hands on you.
I want to hear you scream...and beg me to stop.
But I won't. I won't stop until I take everything that I want from you. ..Isla."
“Hey!” Roman’s voice broke the moment and our dance.
Glued to one spot, I watched their heated exchange in Russian, not understanding a word. Roman was visibly angry, but Sergei chuckled and, without sparing me another glance, turned and walked away.
“Isla?” Roman called my name, but I couldn't breathe; I couldn't move. I stood there shaking and trying to catch my breath from the very vivid and menacing words.
I looked up into his deep blue eyes filled with concern and care and wondered…who the fuck was Roman, and why did he have friends like this?