Chapter 41 – Isabella
N othing like the stuff of fantasy books, let alone fairytales, this ball was painfully boring. Alonzo would have danced with me, but that would require close proximity and definite touching. Not wanting to evoke the wrath of the jealous spectre, I sat out the dancing, feigning exhaustion. Because of the ever-watchful strega, I couldn’t indulge in the food and drink. Parties with the rich and famous weren’t fun without booze, plain and simple.
The only thing left to do was plot.
I drummed my fingers into the table. My revenge decided on, I schemed how best to rid the world of the young Fabrizi. With the extra security measures, it would be tricky. If only I had a more deadly poison at my disposal. No one would see that coming, and the guards would be unable to save him. The underboss was paranoid, and while the don refused to show it, he was worried too. The capos were dead. Many of our soldiers had fallen. Those who remained rumbled loudly about leadership. If tonight’s social obligation wasn’t imperative, the men would be working around the clock to keep their hold over the famiglia they’d stolen. While I couldn’t prove they killed my parents—although the suspicion was sound—the crown should have gone to my brother.
Or me.
The pretenders’ rule was coming to an end. And they sensed it.
That knowledge gave me a fiendish delight.
Now if we can only dispose of the young one—here. Immediately! Cosimo and Gio disappeared shortly after dinner was served. Now it was going on midnight, and I hadn’t seen them. Cosimo needed to die. I wanted the worry of what he was saying and doing with my brother to end. And I could not risk having him say anything even remotely suspicious about Ilya.
Taking a deep gulp of stuffy perfume, I blew out a long breath. This stale atmosphere, the hours of inactivity, the pinch in my stomach—tonight was taking its toll.
A jitter of nervousness buzzed through my veins. I could do it. The steak knife on the table glistened approvingly.
It was All Hallows Eve, for crying out loud. The perfect time to hunt the blackened soul of the damned.
Mind made up, I slid the knife discreetly off the table, tucking it in my purse. I retied my mask in place. There—I was the Goddess of Fury and the Queen of the Seven Circles. Rising from the chair, I excused myself from the snobby flock of hens Cecilia attracted. I pretended not to hear the strega’s questions as to where I was going but moved in the direction of the hall where the bathrooms were in case my intentions were called into question.
The noise of the gathering faded. A deep, cleansing breath filled my lungs. I realized that I was close to having a headache from the strain of pretending the whole night. Plucking a tab of ibuprofen from my bag, I reluctantly realized I had no more candy to help swallow it.
But going back into the ballroom wasn’t an option. I wandered down the hall, stopping to examine the historic artifacts, my gaze lazily trailing over the plaques. A person could easily lose themselves in such a grand home.
Quit stalling! The inner voice nagged and wriggled like a bad itch I couldn’t shake.
Adjusting my mask, which didn’t have the best eyeholes, I stalked forward, wondering where the hell my brother was hiding.
The young woman’s portrait, the daughter of the tycoon who built this mansion, caught my attention. I stared at her pale, porcelain face. It was indiscernibly sad. The history of her life, laid out in bullet points, did not help correct my initial opinion of her.
What a tragic life.
And then I instantly felt guilty, because that could have been me. But I’d gotten out. I broke the chain of events controlling my life. In a matter of days, I wouldn’t have to nibble on salads and socialize with people I loathed.
Three more deaths, and the organization holding me prisoner would fall.
A smile curved my lips. I never thought before tonight that I would want to claim one of those deaths as my own. It should have freaked me out that I did. But there was nothing but dark delight simmering in my veins.
“It’s probably why I’m so drawn to you, phantom,” I confessed quietly. “We’re both monsters in the dark.”
He called me a siren, his rusalka. Well, technically that made me a predator. I might not have the brawn to track and hunt my prey. But I could end the Fabrizi vermin all the same.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the base of my neck prickled in anticipation. My spectre was near.
I threw a cautious glance around, but no one else was this far down the corridor.
Hard hands fell on my waist as Ilya folded out of the dark. I never did see him coming. “At last, you’re mine.”
“Am I?” A devious smile curled my lips.
Ilya pulled me to his body. “I should punish you for daring to say that.”
Heat flared in my core at the twisted idea. How could the anticipation of being punished turn me on this hard? What did that say about me?
Who cares. So long as I had his hands on me.
But that would have to wait.
“I only meant, right now isn’t the time for that,” I panted, already struggling to find the strength to breathe properly. “I’m on a mission here.”
His voice turned gruff. “Was that mission to find your phantom?”
He reached down, hard touch brushing against my pussy.
I sighed, need suddenly the most powerful blaze in my veins.
“That’s right, rusalka, I’m here now,” he rasped. “Your body knows to whom it belongs, doesn’t it.”
It was more statement than question, but I nodded eagerly.
“But I can’t,” I whispered hoarsely.
The growl that rattled his chest was nothing short of animalistic.
“I’m killing Cosimo,” I hissed and tugged open my designer purse.
The spectre stilled.
A flash of worry shot through me.
But Ilya began to tap his fingers against my belly the next minute. “What was your plan, Izzy?”
“Um, stab him in the neck and claim self-defense.” As I said it, the logistics fell flat in my mind.
“What prompted this?” There was a bite to his words. The way he held me grew more possessive, if that was even possible.
“I think he saw something—when we were talking earlier. I don’t want to risk him running his mouth or creating rumors. I was ending the threat,” I rushed to explain.
The spectre nuzzled his lips against my throat. His own mask rubbed against my skin. If I turned my head, I could just see the flash of silver and black covering his face. “Sweet and beautiful, cunning and ruthless. You’re the whole package, Izzy.”
I warmed at his praise.
“I’m ending him and his father tonight. The don tomorrow or the day after. Will you let me handle it?” Ilya closed the flap of my purse. “Cosimo won’t cause any problems for us.”
He was asking my permission. He didn’t need to. We both knew he was capable of destruction. But he also wasn’t swooping in to save the day.
If I asked him to let me do it, he would.
That consideration made my heart thump desperately. Everything this man did, every word, every action, made me fall more in love with him.
“Tonight. Kill him tonight, Ilya.” I squeezed his fingers.
“Yes, rusalka,” he breathed.
With a huff, I sagged into him. “Now I have all this energy and no outlet.”
How did killers like him hold it together? The desire to fight in the underground cage matches suddenly looked incredibly appealing.
Ilya tugged me back against his hard frame. His lips brushed against my ear and the words came in a hot, rough breath. “Does my little siren want to play a game?”
The physical response was instant. My skin tingled. My nipples hardened. And a rush of heat surged in my pussy.
“Yes, but there are cameras and alarms in various exhibits,” I lamented.
“I’ve already taken care of them.” The back of Ilya’s curled finger brushed down my bare arm.
Laughter, bright and delirious, bubbled out of me. “You planned this!”
First a haunted ship and now a mansion? Life couldn’t get much better than this.
“Run, Izzy. Run fast.”
The man who wouldn’t chase me through the woods because I might trip in the dark arranged it so I could play out my fantasy of being chased—chased on Halloween.
And with that realization, I knew exactly where I would flee. The family cemetery was freaky and not too far. I could just make it, if I ducked through the library. Since Ilya took care of the cameras and alarms, then there was nothing left to worry about.
My spectre wouldn’t put me in a position where I was in danger.
I trust him…completely .
Darting forward, I reveled in the thrill surging in my veins. The costume, especially the mask, was a handicap. But since they lent to the illusion, I kept them in place. There was no electronic blast of alarms as I pushed through the doors. Wicked delight surged through my veins. I dashed past the roped off areas and threw open the next set of doors.
The spectre had given me a head start. But not for long.
I ran fast; I ran hard. I wouldn’t make it easy for him to catch me. That wouldn’t be very fun.
Realizing I miscalculated, that the next set of doors didn’t lead to the outdoor paths, I doubled back. Desperate gulps of air filled my lungs. We were at a society ball, could easily be caught despite the precautions, and yet I never felt more alive. I scrambled across the polished floor, heading to the study where the proper doors were located. These exhibits weren’t decorated for the autumn, but that didn’t make the space any less spooky. My theory about the former owners wandering the halls seemed to hold merit in the dimly lit space.
I barely made it over the threshold of the next room before a rough growl preceded the monster’s spring.
Ilya grabbed me effortlessly around the waist and tugged my body firmly to his, as he turned me to face him. The half mask and black-on-black suit made him look every bit the villain I knew him to be. He was so handsome—blindingly, terribly handsome. My pulse exploded.
“Caught you,” he whispered in exultation.
I struggled and kicked. It was useless.
Gazing down at me with a blazing intent, a dark grin played over his mouth. His wickedly sinful mouth. I quit struggling, instantly wanting nothing more than those lips on me.
Breathing hard, I waited for his verdict.
“A valiant effort, but I expected better,” he crowed softly, trailing the tip of his finger down the side of my bare arm.
Heat warred with indignation inside my chest. I squirmed against him, but he only chuckled.
I narrowed my eyes, an idea springing to the forefront. It wasn’t a good plan. Quite evil, actually. There was no way it wouldn’t work.
“Gio! What are you doing?” I called out, leaning around Ilya as I played the dirtiest trick in the book.
The change that came over the spectre was immediate. He pulled to his full height, body strung taut like a string as he rounded, prepared to deal with the damage.
I broke free of his hold, bolting across the room. I would pay for that deception, of that I had no doubt. There was part of me that counted on it. Arms pumping, I raced through a side door—
Only to be yanked back.
I crashed into a wall. The impact was rough, and a short cry slipped through my lips.
“Such a wicked, wicked girl,” Ilya growled. He traced the snake along the back of my gown. “I should have expected nothing less from the Goddess of Fury.”
Moisture pooled between my legs in response. This fantasy was everything I craved, and more.
“No matter, siren, these doors lock. You’re at my mercy now.”
The click that followed confirmed that I was indeed alone with the monster. The spectre hauled me across the room, where he threw the lock on the inner set of doors. I struggled and seethed, not giving him an ounce of submission as he tugged me to the bare spot along the couch. He pushed against me, letting me feel the weight of his body. He tugged the strap of my gown with enough force that it nearly tore.
I sucked in a sharp protest. This was going from game to treacherous territory quite quickly.
But the feel of his lips on my bare shoulder a moment later erased the protest. “My wicked little rusalka needs to be fucked hard it seems.”
I jerked to the side. “Let me go! This is madness, Ilya. We’ll be caught.”
Those words dripped off my tongue, but I didn’t believe them. Not in my heart.
“Too late for that.” He sucked on my pulse, sending my eyes fluttering shut. “You wanted to play with fire, you wicked girl, now I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll burn.”
A whimper escaped my lips.
But I wasn’t ready to submit. He would have to tear that from me. Siren, he called me? Ancient sorceresses who lured men to their deaths? I rose to the namesake.
“I need to go back to the ball. I’ll be missed!” As I spoke, I grabbed his cock, gripping it tightly.
The hiss that whistled through his teeth was reward enough. I had power over this man, if only for a moment.
I slid from his clutches. His grasp loosened only to tangle roughly in my hair. He spun me around in one smooth move, shoving me hard against the wall and lowering his face over mine. Grey eyes, the silvery color of the moon, stared with a ravenous hunger at me.
“I’ve caught you, Izzy. I intend to keep you.”
His words sent a searing heat rushing over my skin. The space between us was in danger of bursting into flames. I panted, tugging my hands free and pushing my fingers along the sides of his face. I threaded my touch back, through his short, dark hair, tugging the mask free. I rose to my tippy toes, barely tall enough to reach what I wanted.
“No barriers,” I breathed, and then my lips were on his.
There was a tug on the strings of my mask. As we kissed, desperate and testing, he tossed the masks aside, before his hands wrapped around me, tugging me into his body. I melted. We kissed until we both were breathing hard.
With one hand, Ilya lifted my wrists above my head and pinned me against the wall. His other hand strayed lower as his tongue delved into my mouth. I whimpered, and the monster in front of me grinned. I tasted the satisfaction as he kissed me deeply. The wandering touch paused over my chest. He roughly palmed my breast, squeezing and kneading the tender flesh.
“Look at me, Izzy,” he growled, making heat pulse between my legs. “You’re mine, all night. No one will save you.”
Logically, I knew it was just him talking. We would have to leave this place. Go our separate ways for now. But logic left the equation a long time ago.
“I don’t need to be saved,” I confessed. “I’m where I belong.”
Those grey eyes brightened with possession. He leaned down, but this time he kissed my jaw. My neck. My pulse. His mouth was more demanding than before. I wriggled, but the spectre tightened his hold on my wrists.
Gathering my dress and tugging it over my hips, Ilya stilled.
I grinned. “Oh, that’s right, I’m not wearing anything.”
His hard touch plunged into my slick heat. “You’re soaking, Izzy. Look how badly you need me to fuck you.”
The breathless laugh escaped my throat. “Then do it.”
Each word came with a sharp punctuation. It was dangerous. The wild look in his eyes was warning enough. But I wasn’t unstoppable.
“Do your worst, phantom.”
The kiss he gave me was feral, but it was the fingers he shoved inside me that made me scream into his mouth. He fucked me mercilessly—with only his touch! The spectre left no room for doubt that he was claiming his winnings. But then why did it feel like I had the prize? Was this what it was like to find my soul’s mate? My body soared in the rush of pleasure.
Ilya broke the kiss with a harsh, guttural curse. His touch ripped away a moment later. I let out a ragged gasp of indignation.
The spectre only smirked.
“Do you want me to taste you again?” he coaxed, voice dripping with sin and desire.
I nodded.
Ilya held his fingers between us so I saw the glistening evidence of my arousal. “It’s adorable how you think you’re in charge,” he murmured, and then he took a long, purposeful lick.
I opened my mouth to protest. In a flash, the spectre pushed his fingers between my lips. The sharp taste of my own wetness burst over my tongue.
“Suck, little siren. Such hard,” he growled in a tone that no doubt made his enemies quake.
Shock turned into a blast of fiery lust. Heaven help me, I did. I pulled his fingers deep, sucking hard as I convinced him that I would swallow them whole if he let me.
His dominance overwhelmed me, but my heart pounded eagerly, beating to the rhythm he evoked.
With a tug, he removed his touch from between my lips. That hard mouth slanted over mine, to kiss me deeply. Wet fingers slid into my hair, pulling my head back to expose my vein. But the monster didn’t seem interested in taking a bite. Not just yet. No, he kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.
“Saints, Izzy, I can’t wait anymore,” he choked, tearing away and reaching between us. “You’re so beautiful when you struggle for me. It makes me hard for you. I need to feel this pretty pussy.”
The head of his thick cock nudged against me.
I moaned, shifting with anticipation.
“So beautiful—all wet and ready for me.” Ilya tugged my legs up, hooking me around his hips. “Are you ready to be fucked, sweet rusalka?”
The whimper and nod were the only responses I could manage. His responding chuckle was dark and pleased.
Thankfully, he took mercy on me, relieving the ache we both felt. His cock shoved deep inside. His kiss muffled the cry of pleasure as he began thrusting hard and fast.
Suddenly my wrists were free. I reached around, clawing at his back, pulling him closer as he continued to drive deep into my tightening core. The foreplay, the running, it all built inside.
I wouldn’t last long.
Especially when his hand slid around the back of my neck, that reassuring touch tangling in my hair. Ilya bent over me, pressing his lips against my throat. He held me in place, taking his time to taste every inch of me.
“My sweet Izzy, such a good fucking girl,” he said hotly as he sucked on the sensitive skin under my ear.
I knew exactly what to say. The words poured from my heart. “You know how to make me feel so good, phantom.”
A feral, predatorial roar rumbled through his chest. I felt it run through my body as he fucked me straight into a release.
As my muscles tightened around him, pleasure sizzling through every fiber of my body, Ilya reached for one of my breasts, squeezing it roughly. It only served to strengthen the release.
“Fuck, Izzy,” he groaned, the thrusts growing frantic as he drove into my spasming pussy.
The spectre shuddered, groaned, and with one more hard thrust, buried himself in me. His cock throbbed inside me, spilling into me with hot ropes. I clung to him, body humming with the silvery hot rush that only this phantasmal being could give me.
We remained locked together, staring and unblinking, as the intimacy of the primal act pulsed around us. Just two monsters, lucky enough to have found one another in the dark.