Chapter 17 The Truth
The Truth
Roman
Isla was ethereal. I saw only her. The sparkle in her eyes, her genuine smile, the way her laugh spread warmth through all of me.
And yet, she was more reserved and distant than ever—cold even.
A noticeable change from how things were between us just a week ago.
I regretted taking her to this dinner; it all was such a fucking mess after everything I’d said and done.
I double-regretted it when I saw Sergei's eyes lock onto her. Incredible anger and jealousy exploded inside me like a bomb. He had no right to lay his filthy eyes on her. What was worse is that I recognized that look; that's how he looked when he was interested.
Before dinner started, I left Isla sitting at the dinner table and headed around the room, shaking hands with all the 'important' people, Sergei at my side. Once we were done with the small talk, I joined him at the bar, and he turned toward our table with a small smile.
"Well, well. Look who you sheltered, like an abandoned puppy. She's still at your house then, huh?" He spoke Russian, dark humor and sarcasm spilling out of him with satisfaction as he sipped on his whisky.
I didn't answer, just watched him watch her. I'd known him for what felt like forever, but never had I wanted to kill him more than in that moment.
"She's been around for a while now. You fuck her yet?" he asked me, his eyes absolutely glued to her. I stayed silent, choosing to be the bigger man and not take the bait.
"She's really not your type, Roma. Cute.
Innocent. She's girlfriend and wife material. Look at her. She’ll be loyal, raise good kids, take care of the house, spread her legs obediently.
You're not into that shit; you can't hold a woman down.
" His mouth kept spewing bullshit, and I kept my arms crossed.
My teeth hurt from how hard I clenched my jaw at his words.
"Shut the fuck up, Seryoga. What the fuck got into you?" I finally retorted something, minutes away from strangling him.
"Oohh...looks like Roma caught...feelings?" He turned to me, smiling like a complete psychopath. "And for a piece of trash too! That he picked up from the street!"
Before he pushed me over the edge of insanity, I turned and walked away. Fuck him; he riled me up like never before, and I knew I would have bashed his face in if I stayed beside him.
He watched her across the table during dinner too; I didn’t miss it.
And at the end of the dinner, when he twirled her around the dance floor…
something was happening between them. So when I saw his hand travel down her body—that was the absolute fucking limit.
But he had already inflicted the damage before I got to them.
Isla looked petrified.
The silence in the car between us was deafening as I sped through the dark night, away from the venue. Isla sat in the passenger seat, immobile, barely breathing.
"You're a really good dancer." I finally spoke. "Did you take lessons?"
"Mm-hmm, yeah. I used to dance ballroom and Latin for, like, ten years,” she squeaked out, trying to make it sound light. Wow. What could have possibly happened between them?
I changed my mind right then and there. Instead of taking her home, I swerved off the path, the headlights of my Ferrari the only light ahead. I pulled up to a small diner, which had great food but was a complete hole in the wall.
Isla asked no questions. Instead, before I could open her car door, she climbed out and waited for me to approach her.
"Isla? Are you okay?" I inquired as I came closer, her smile fake like I’d never seen before.
"Yes. I'm just tired. That's all."
"It's only ten thirty. Don't you usually go to bed past midnight?" I questioned her, knowing her sleeping schedule by heart. When she lived with me, she would sneak out of her room at exactly midnight and grab a glass of water in the kitchen before heading to bed.
"Are we getting burgers and milkshakes? What is this place?" She spoke with fake enthusiasm as she eyed the small place behind me, changing the subject quickly.
I led her inside, to the back of the place, where she slid into a booth, the red pleather seats a stark contrast to her polished look.
“Oh! You’re both looking sharp! What can I get ya, sweetie?” The older server addressed Isla with a wide smile.
“A strawberry milkshake, please”
Obviously. Like the beautiful, innocent girl she was, she preferred something super sweet and girly.
"So? Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I launched right into it as soon as the server departed.
“N-nothing! Nothing is wrong. I had a great time.” She breathed out and fidgeted with her little purse. “Thank you for taking me out.”
Damn, she was nervous.
And damn, did she look sexy and seductive tonight. It was like she emanated sexual energy my way. Everything she did, every look, every movement, every sigh…called out to me. I was a desperate man. A sad, desperate man.
I wanted her. I wanted her so badly; my mind was clouded, possessed. That dress was meant to be discarded on my bedroom floor. Her body, her soul, her mind—all of it was meant to connect with me. To be mine, mine, mine!
Moments of clarity would break through the Isla haze, and it would dawn on me how wrong I was for her. For this Angel.
For all my ability to keep a cool head, when it came to Isla, I had not a lick of logical thought left inside me. I only thought with my heart.
We waited for the milkshake in silence while I stared at her and she looked at anything but me. She was angry about the whole Columbia thing; I got it. And I was in despair and agony about having to potentially let her go back to New York.
But that’s not what she was hiding from me. I shot for the bullseye. "What did Sergei say to you?"
Her gaze darted up to mine, fear lacing every one of her beautiful features. Oh fuck, what the fuck did he do? What the fuck was I going to kill him for?
"Nothing much.” She spoke as if uninterested. “He asked how I knew you. Are you good friends?"
"Yes. I've known him since I was a kid."
Isla nodded and smiled politely at the waitress when she dropped off the milkshake.
"Mm. He said you were business partners too.
You run your construction company together?
" She used air quotes, and it was painfully obvious she was catching onto the fact that it wasn’t legit.
"You know who else owned a construction company?
My dad. But we didn't live in a penthouse.
And he did very well." She sipped on her milkshake, keeping her eyes on me.
"Isla...if you want to ask me something, just ask."
"Roman...if you want to tell me something, just tell me." She reversed it back on me and sat there in trepidation. Fuck me.
"Tell me what Sergei said to you first...and then I’ll tell you what you want to know." I set my own terms as her eyes sparkled with tears.
"Yeah? You really want to know what your good friend said to me?" She double-checked, and I was actually scared to hear it. I nodded slowly.
"He said..." she trailed off, taking a deep breath to calm down. "He said that he wouldn't do anything inappropriate there, because his wife was close by. No. He was going to find me alone. And next time he gets his hands on me…he hopes I will be shaking from fear and pain.”
All of me began to shut down at her story.
“And he said he wanted to hear me scream and…and beg him to stop..." Tears were now running down her cheeks, but she kept talking. “But he wouldn't stop until he took everything that he wanted from me."
She got it off her chest as I sat there frozen, glued to my seat, her angelic eyes begging for an explanation. "Who the fuck are you, Roman? If you have friends who threaten women they don't know with rape? Is that who you are too?!"
She was heartbroken, and rightfully so. How could I have friends like that?
This was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Sergei and I had been drifting apart for years, but he had crossed into some kind of uncharted territory now.
It was hard watching him treat his wife like shit, but that was their dynamic, and I closed my eyes to everything he might have been doing on his own time. But now that he threatened my girl?
This. Was. War.
"No. That's not who I am," I responded forcefully, blinded by rage.
"But I do run the company with him and another guy.
And we embezzle money from the government.
And take out anyone who gets in our way.
" This was the most succinct explanation I could offer, and I hoped that I didn't have to go into more details.
Isla was defeated. Her shoulders slumped, she studied the table before lifting her gaze to mine.
"You know, Roman...besides the tattoos and the weird sexual fetish of having others watch you have sex…
you look like a really normal and chill guy.
And I have to admit that I-I can't stop thinking about you.”
She spoke quietly, but I heard every word, and my heart literally jumped into my stomach. What?! What was she saying?!
“And now, clearly, you’ve made it your mission to get me into bed, which I have fantasized about wildly.
" My heartbeat stalled at her words as they permeated every inch of me.
"I really can't accept your money and let you pay for my school.
And also, maybe it's best that we don't see each other anymore. It won't lead to anything good."
I couldn't breathe from everything she said. She couldn't stop thinking about me?! I was crazy about her! No! I couldn’t stop seeing her—ever! Even if nothing ever happened between us, I was addicted to having her in my life.
"Isla, listen—" I reached across the table for her hand, but she pulled back and placed her hand in her lap.
That was expected. "Tonight really went off the rails.
I'm so sorry Sergei said that to you. He's a fucking psycho.
But Isla, I…I'm not like that. And I'm not like him. Please trust me on this."
She nodded slowly, her bitter smile screaming disbelief.
"Stay with me until school starts and the–"
"I'm not letting you pay for school, Roman!
It's one thing to let you pay for my clothes and something completely different to let you pay for my tuition!
" She was becoming angry, and it turned me on, goddammit.
"Look. I may not have friends here, but I do back home.
It was a colossal mistake coming here. Right away, the universe let me know that I wasn't welcome when it burned down my apartment and—"
"I burned down your apartment," I confessed loudly and focused my eyes on the milkshake.
Fuck, this night was just a fucking explosion.
I looked up at her once more, her eyes wide, all of her stunned at my words.
"Obviously, I didn't know you were there.
The place was empty except for the first-floor tenant for a whole year.
And my men fucked up. They didn't know you moved in over the weekend.
It was me standing on the side of the house before you climbed out.
And then I saw you, and completely shocked and surprised, caught you before you hit the ground.
" I finished getting it off my chest but felt much worse than before.
Yes, she was really scared now. Her bottom lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears again as she pressed herself into the back of the seat she was sitting on, trying to make as much distance between us as possible.
"What the fuck? What the fuck are you saying, Roman? Why the fuck did you burn down the house? Who are your men?" She asked one question after another, hungry for knowledge of what could have possibly derailed her move here in such a way.
"The guy who lived on the first floor of the house.
..killed my sister. I wanted to watch him burn.
You happened to move in at the worst time, and one of my men—the one who was responsible for surveilling the house—made a mistake and didn't know you were there before it was set on fire.
He paid for that mistake with his life."
The information overtook her, large goosebumps covering her exposed skin. Her soft and naked shoulders shivered, the shock of it all slowly washing over her.
"Holy shit,” she concluded. "Is that why you let me stay at your house? And bought me stuff? Because you felt guilty that I lost everything because of you?" she asked me innocently.
This was breaking me apart.
"No. That's not why. I don't know why I let you stay at first. You were so hurt.
..I couldn't just kick you out. But now...I think...actually, I’m sure that…
I'm in love with you. And I can't stop thinking about you, Isla.
I can't stop pining for you." The words came out as a plea, and I shut my eyes, no longer able to look at her.
"I just want you; I don't want anything else. Not in bed. I want you with me, forever.”
She held back her tears as I drowned in her beautiful eyes.
I took a second to collect the last of my frayed nerves, telling her exactly what was on my mind and heart.
“But I'm a broken man, and you need someone who can give you what you deserve. Someone who’s not a…” I almost said killer but held myself back just in time.
“Someone who will be able to have a normal life and family with you.
Like Thomas Grant. I will just hurt you.
I don't know how, but I'm sure I'm incapable of doing anything else, just hurting people. "
This was the end.
How the fuck did it all fucking crumble like this? My head fell into my hands, and we both just sat there and processed our reality.
I had no idea where I found the courage to tell her I was in love with her. Something stung in my chest, probably heartbreak—for the first time in my life. When I woke up in the morning, I didn’t expect for everything to blow up this way.
Tears raced down her plump cheeks as Isla remained motionless, save for her gentle hands wiping away the waterworks.
Too much. This was all too much.