Chapter 31 – Isabella
W hen the attendant lowered the rope for our party to begin the journey into the belly of the ship, a rush of excitement went through our little group. There were only seven young people from our organization, plus five from the Conti Famiglia. They were cold and distant, despite Alonzo’s best efforts to make small talk. Gio ignored the girl wedged between her beefy cousins, preferring to converse with Matteo, which made Alonzo try even harder to chit-chat. My poor fiancé—he was not cut out to be a diplomat. He couldn’t read the social situation or navigate the complexities of such an interaction. After the way the celebration with the Contis ended, their coolness was understandable. That was fine by me; the relationship didn’t need to be forced between Gio and the don’s daughter.
As the creepy sound effects greeted us, I felt my body relaxing. We were just a group of young people, doing what normal people did on their Saturday nights. It was a strange, albeit invigorating feeling.
Shuffling forward, the guys made jokes about who would scream first. The haunted ship promised adventure and escape from normalcy. Rosa looped her arm with Benedetta’s. They huddled behind the wall of boys. I followed them, with the other guys taking up the rear. We were quickly enveloped in a thick, eerie darkness that seemed to pulse with anticipation. The air felt cool and slightly damp, like stepping into an old, forgotten cellar. Each step I took on the creaky metal floor echoed faintly, mingling with the distant, haunting noises playing over the speakers. Not only was the ship haunted, but there was an adventure attached to our trek through the hull. It was called an escape room, something I’d never done. There was a 1940’s war anthem, meant to boost the troops’ morale as they sailed to the European Front. The story was that this ship was lost at sea but reappeared completely empty.
Or so it seemed.
Ghostly whispers and ominous creaks filled the air, sending delightful shivers down my spine. The smell of artificial fog, mixed with a hint of salty sea, created an otherworldly atmosphere. Occasionally, I caught the scent of cologne or perfume wafting from the others, a harsh contrast to the creepy interior. As we navigated the narrow hallways, the dim, flickering lights cast unsettling shadows that danced along the walls, giving life to the inanimate and heightening the sense of anticipation.
A ghoulish sailor sat up from a bunk.
Matteo screamed like a little bitch.
We doubled over in a fit of unified laughter, pointing and jeering at the twenty-one-year-old. Even the Contis chuckled. But the mirth died as a figure ambled down the hall. The actor’s gait was disjointed and monstrous. Most of the others yelped and cried out, angling down the other hall.
Unlike other haunted houses, we were the only group down here for our allotted time and could move about the entire exhibit at our leisure. There was something about rescuing the logbook so the Axis Powers couldn’t use it against us.
Personally, I doubted we would last long enough down here to scope out the layout, let alone complete the mission. A pity. After the hell of dress fitting and other wedding preparations, I decided I was looking forward to this evening's event. Around the next turn, something prickled at the base of my spine. I looked around to see what warning presented itself, but nothing appeared.
The passageway we moved down glowed red. My fingertips brushed against the smooth, chilled walls as I moved forward, grounding me in the reality of the place despite the eerie surroundings. The suspense built with every turn, knowing that at any moment, an actor could leap out from a hidden corner or secret panel. When they did, their sudden, exaggerated movements and guttural growls were more thrilling than terrifying. The anticipation of the unknown kept my heart racing but not from fear. I couldn’t help but grin, appreciating the effort and artistry that went into each scare.
We were children of a criminal organization. Nothing about this replicated supernatural place could compare to the monsters in the real world.
But I enjoyed the hell out of the fright of the others.
I reveled in the chilling vibes, the playful terror that made the experience so enjoyable. My ears picked up every sound—the scraping of chains, the distant, echoing laughter, the soft hum of the hidden speakers—each one adding layers to the spine-tingling ambiance. Despite the crafted spookiness, I remained composed, savoring the blend of sensations that made the haunted battleship a perfect mix of fun and fright.
And yet I couldn’t shake the lingering weight of something other being down here. Something far more frightening than ghouls or gangsters. A malicious, sinister presence that would never hurt me.
I’m being silly.
There was no way my spectre was down here. What business would Ilya have, stalking us through a Halloween amusement attraction? But I couldn’t shake the feeling.
“This way,” I insisted, tugging on Gio’s sleeve. The familiar chill rushed over me, and I rubbed the gooseflesh on my arms. It was unlikely it had to do with the paid-for surroundings and my fried mental state. There were no Russian cage fighters down here. “The blueprints showed a hatch over here that leads to the control room.”
“Let’s go back,” Rosa wailed.
If my eyes rolled any harder, they would fall out of my head. I pushed through the trio in front and reached for the hatch. Another actor appeared at the end of the hall. My comrades screamed bloody murder and bolted.
I used their fear to slip through the hatch.
Only to realize the schematics were backward. This hatch led to the missile room. Those great tubes that once housed torpedoes seemed likely places for an actor to hide. I approached them.
A footstep sounded behind me.
Heart in my throat, I spun around, raising my flashlight. “I see you.”
This actor was different. He wore a three-piece suit, all black and not military. His mask was also black, a sheet of plastic with eyeholes. He paused by the hatch and threw the lock.
Real, soul-consuming fear washed over me in a wave. I stumbled back, hitting the metal wall. Warning bells pealed in my mind as tingles of alarm shot down my spine.
This wasn’t how this game was supposed to go. And this stranger probably knew it.
Survival instinct flared inside me. I didn’t have a weapon, not even a can of mace. Some of the Made Men were armed, but we ladies were defenseless, honored to be protected by them. Well…that was just stupid. Because after the events of the last few days, this man could likely be an assassin.
I would claw. I would kick. I would fight with everything I had.
The pleasant scent of forest trickled through the panic. I inhaled. Cedar…and smoke. The icy prickles suddenly made sense.
It was my spectre.
Relief made my shoulders sag. The size and build of him was familiar. How had I missed that? I leaned forward, inhaling deeply. The fresh, woodsy scent overwhelmed the stench of saltwater and ancient metal.
“Haunting me in a haunted ship?” I mused, taking a step backward, letting him chase me, even if it was simply for a few feet.
This was the man who could destroy everything. Burn my world down. Well, I might as well enjoy the warmth. Here in the dark, the games of the outside faded. I was just a woman, and he was only a man.
My fingers reached for the hem of my blouse and in one smooth move I pulled it over my head.
A rough inhale cut through the air.
Did he have a thing for trapping me in the dark? If so, the joke was on him. I freaking loved it. I tipped my chin up, my fingers reaching around to my back to unclasp the bra. The material fell away, revealing my hardened nipples.
The monster crossed his arms over his chest.
“What? You didn’t come here to play?” I dared.
A growl, low and menacing, ripped through the air. “You give yourself so eagerly to anyone?”
I cocked my head to the side. “You’re not just anyone, though, are you? Ilya? ”
My tongue caressed the syllables.
Electricity sizzled through the silence until I broke it again.
“I thought that’s what we were doing? You’re playing some version of hide and seek.” And I’m not sure what game I’m playing anymore. I let out a long breath. “But I found you. That means I won.”
The spectre reached out, trailing the back of his knuckle down the center of my body. The touch blazed a path from my collarbone across my chest, through the valley between my breasts, and along the planes of my abbs to my navel.
“You? Won?” His voice was strained, rough. “I think not.”
“Prove it.” I was no longer playing with fire. This was a minefield. At any moment, it would go off in my face. But I was a decent dancer, so I continued to trip through the uneven ground.
Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to the side of his throat. My teeth scored his flesh, creating a smaller path down his neck.
The Russian let out a hiss. “Stop it, Izzy.”
“That’s not fair.” I pulled back, bracing my hands on either side of his frame. “Didn’t you come here to spend time with me?”
“I came here to protect you,” he hissed. “Those idiots are parading you through an unsecured location when your crime syndicate is at war.”
I pushed my hands under his jacket, feeling the soft material over his shirt couldn’t hide the hard muscles underneath. My voice came out barely above a whisper. “I’m safe now, aren’t I? I’m locked in here with you.”
With a purely animalistic roar, he pushed me back into the wall. Hands suddenly captured at my sides, he towered over me. This was exactly what I wanted, what I’d been craving since I realized he was here. Heat shivered up my spine, and the anticipation of what was to come had my toes curling.
His tongue laved over my shoulder.
I melted from the rush of pleasure.
The Russian cage fighter might not be the safe choice but resisting him was no longer an option. I was going to explode if I didn’t have that hard body on me again. I knew he would be incredible when I’d chosen him, and I’d dreamed of this moment too many times.
“Off,” he snarled, tugging at my jeans. He continued to lick and suck a path down my body as he knelt before me. My nipples ached at the brief attention he spared them. “I’m going to fuck you hard, siren. You’ve tempted me into the dark, and now you’re going to take everything I give you.”
With my now free hands, I shoved the pants down my thighs, kicking them away. The spectre pulled one leg over his shoulder before he bent and buried his face in the center. I hissed sharply as the rush of pleasure shot through me. His tongue slid against my slit, a long, slow lick.
“I needed to taste you,” he rasped, voice rough and strangled.
A delicious bolt of pain pulsed as he nipped my clit. “You’ve come back to my room every night since my bridal shower to bring me things; you could have woken me up. That would be incredible, finding you between my legs.”
My words were cut off with a whimper as he sucked—hard. I dug my fingers into his hair, rubbing and pressing against his scalp.
Launching to his feet, he bent over me. “You need your sleep, Izzy.”
It seemed as though he was going to kiss me. I held my breath, eager to have his mouth on me again.
The next moment, I was lifted into the air. My back crashed against the metal wall of the ship. Excitement made my hands shake as I braced them on his shoulders. I’d never felt this way before. This desire to be consumed and knowing it was the ultimate freedom.
Somewhere, being scared, my friends were running about the ship. But the most frightening fiend was right here, enveloping me with his terrible essence.
I let go of the rigid control I exercised. None of it mattered here in the dark. The wedding. The constant threats hanging over me. It all slid away until it was just me and him. The man whose last name I didn’t know. His past or secrets. But I knew his body. His mouth. His scent. It enveloped me in a silky, velvety blackness.
The seam of his dress slacks rubbed against my aching pussy. My wetness no doubt stained the material. Good. It was a marking of sorts. He pulled back, flipping the belt, snapping the clasp, and ripping the zipper with a brutal savagery. Instead of unleashing his cock, he brushed those same knuckles over my clit.
Pleasure spread through me, making my core tighten.
“Have you let another touch this?” There was a strange quality to his voice. The anger I easily sensed, but the other emotions? I couldn’t pin them.
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” The words lacked the fire I meant to put behind them. Granted, we had been dancing around this issue the last time we fell into bed, but while I had been close to giving him that answer before, I wanted him to tear it from me now.
The spectre obliged.
Pain flashed as he pinched my clit. “Answer me.”
I whipped my head back and forth. It could be interpreted as a refusal, but it was also my answer. A heady mixture of fear and exhilaration pounded through my veins.
His fingers invaded my pussy, creating a delicious friction. “I took this. It belongs to me. And—” He paused, hot breath fanning over my ear as he leaned down. “If I find another man has touched what is mine, I’ll make him wish he was dead.”
The desire to tell him was too strong. He was only going to draw out my torment if I didn’t confess.
“There’s been no one,” I panted. “Only you.”
That terrible touch withdrew, and the tip of his cock moved up and down against my slit. “Hmm, is that so?”
I nodded furiously. “Yes, Ilya. No one else.”
His cock sank into me, stretching and filling until he was fully sheathed. I tightened my legs around him, gasping at the sensation of being connected in the most primal of ways.
Pulling back, he pushed in hard and fast. I whimpered as my pussy tightened around him.
Satisfaction laced his voice. “You’re shaking, rusalka.”
“Ass,” I hissed, but any other word was cut off as he impaled me again.
There was nothing that could compare to this. I didn’t need to take another lover to know he was different. His hard gaze sent shivers of heat over my skin. His touch burned. And this? It ruined me.
But in the best possible ways.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he rasped, pumping into me. The rocking motion broke the claw clip, and my hair fell around my face.
A faint voice scoffed in the back of my head, encouraging me to tell him I was my own woman. But that wasn’t quite the truth. Here in the dark, I surrendered all control to this beast.
“How can I? I don’t even know your last name,” I laughed.
The Russian—my spectre of darkness—drove into me with a determined savagery. He stole the very breath from my lungs, cutting off the ability to laugh. Pleasure shot through me, building into something bigger.
“What will you do with my name if I give it to you?” he growled.
“Use it.” Own it.
He bent down, pressing his cheek against mine. A deep rumble vibrated through his frame. I felt every rush of that sound.
“It’s Ilya Pavlovn,” he said, the timbre of his voice making me shiver with the weight of the moment.
Such a simple name, but utterly beautiful. It fit him. Soft like the dark, hard like the man he was. But there was more to it than that. He was trusting me with a secret, letting me into the shadows to reveal who and what he was. We both knew I could destroy him with that information.
Instead, I pulled him closer.
His lips pressed against my pulse, tasting the fire in my veins. He pounded into me. Faster. Harder. Impossibly deep. “Who do you belong to?”
“To you, Ilya Pavlovn. Only you,” I mewled, unable to draw a proper breath.
The pleasure was too much. The sensation of a balloon stretching to its fullest built inside me.
“That’s right, siren, you’re mine.” Ilya’s fingers tangled in my hair, tipping my head to the side. His tongue ran over my pulse. “Now let me hear you scream.”
The pressure exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors. It was like fireworks blasted in my peripheral, my vision distorting into reality and emotion. The wave of pleasure threatened to pull me under.
Somewhere in the distance, a feral beast roared. The sound was far more terrifying than any spooky prop in this haunted ship. I opened myself to the sound, letting it wash over me. Consume me.
When reality started to conquer the bliss that was feeling, I blinked hard, trying to clear the remaining sparkles from my vision. Strands of hair were plastered to my face. Our hard breathing was the only sound in the shell of metal where we hid.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Mr. Pavlovn .” I rolled the name over my tongue, testing and tasting it.
His nostrils flared as he blew a hard breath out. “You should go back to your friends, Izzy. Make them leave this cheap attraction.”
I sighed. I could feel his walls closing and his guard going back up. Unwrapping my legs, I dropped to the floor. Wetness dripped down my legs. Plucking my panties from the clump of jeans, I dabbed between my legs, glad the darkness hid the color that heated my cheeks.
To hide my embarrassment at the mess, I readdressed the ever-present issue.
“Whatever you think you’re doing with the mob, it’s dangerous. You should quit while you’re still ahead,” I quipped, pushing the worry out of my voice.
“I can’t.”
I huffed. “And why not?”
“You’re mine.”
“How? How can you say that? We barely know one another.” There it was. The true fear ran through me. Yes, I was worried about being caught. Sure, this crazy thing had absolutely no future. But it was the idea that this man would grow tired of me. That this game we played would end because darkness grew bored, chewed me up, and spit me out.
Ilya remained silent, continuing to study me.
“How can you risk everything for me?” I croaked.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against my pulse and making me sigh. “I know the way you taste when you come undone—no other man knows that flavor. You gave yourself to me, rusalka. You’re mine and I would rather raze this city to smoldering heaps of ash than let another man have you.”
Rusalka—a Slavic monster. That was what my spectre of darkness called me.
Twin monsters, the pair of us.
Couldn’t we survive the nightmare? It was where fearsome creatures thrived, after all.
Such a nice dream…but that was all this was. I couldn’t have him, but I could steal a few more nights with him. Allow my own obsession with this monster in the dark to play out a little longer.
“Will you wake me up next time you come to my room?” I breathed before I could stop myself.
The side of his mouth quirked up. “Is that what you want?”
“I want us not to be caught,” I huffed. “But here we are, playing a dangerous game.”
He brushed the hair off my face. The motion was impossibly gentle, a sharp contrast to the brutal claiming we’d just experienced. “No one will hurt you, Isabella. That, I swear to you.”
I tipped my chin up. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, phantom.”
A soft hum rumbled in his throat. And then he lifted the lever and opened the hatch. The last thing I saw was the swath of blackness disappearing down the corridor of the ship. I leaned my head back, realizing that my torso was still bare. Forcing myself to scramble, I put my bra and blouse back on moments before Rosa and Benedetta found me.
“A monster trapped me here!” I rushed to say, the tremble in my voice not something I had to fake.
“We should go,” Rosa wailed.
Ilya’s warning ringing in my ears, I agreed.