CHAPTER 4
MIKHAIL
Two Weeks Later
The Castellanos’ front gate slides open as I drive through for the fourth time this week. I paced my living this morning like a fucking jackass, trying to come up with an excuse to see her. The times I’ve visited since Rodrigo moved out were limited to special occasions or a rare meeting with Emilio. Justifying my frequent visits these last fourteen days has become a daily challenge. But I can’t help myself. The need to see and be around her is far greater than my pride.
So when she texted me this morning to ask for help with moving her things to the suite above the pool house, I couldn’t jump in my car fast enough. I’m not sure what’s happening, and I’m probably not helping the situation by failing to keep my distance, but the more time I spend with Leah, the harder it is to give a damn.
“Mikhail.”
Emilio’s tone is curt. He’s never been one to offer affection to those outside of his circle, so it doesn’t come as a surprise. But there’s an extra bite to the way he grits out my name. And I don’t miss the tension in his shoulders as he stands in the doorway, like a blockade. While we’ve been associates for eight years, our relationship is brittle and based solely on mutual ambition and power.
“Emilio,” I reply with a nod.
“I’d say it’s a surprise to see you here again , but I’m almost starting to expect your car pulling into my drive more than not.”
“Leah asked me to help with the move.” I lean on the door frame and fold my arms.
“Of course she did,” he replies, narrowing his eyes and glancing around the foyer. “Look, I’m not stupid. I don’t like to be taken as a fool. I don’t know your intentions, but I suggest you rethink what you’re getting yourself into.”
I rub a hand over my chin, unable to hide the smirk stretching across my face. The unspoken threat behind his words is loud and clear, but surely, he forgets who he’s speaking to. I’m a fucking Petrov, and men lose their heads for smaller acts of disrespect.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I say, calling his bluff.
He scoffs. “Leah is not for you, Mikhail. I won’t say it twice because the day I let my youngest daughter be turned into a whore by some Russian scum, it will be over my dead body.”
I clench my fists. He doesn’t realize how quickly that can be arranged.
“Is that right?”
A devious grin splits his face. “I have plans for her. Men worthy of a queen.”
My chest tightens as every cell in my body revolts against the idea of another man touching what’s mine.
Mine .
It hits me with the force of a nuclear explosion.
Leah is mine.
The affection I’ve always held for her has shifted into something more these past few weeks.
Maybe from the moment I picked her up off that goddamn highway.
Like an act of fucking fate.
“I heard through the grapevine that your father has similar plans for you. Celeste, is it?”
Ice chills my veins at the mention of her name, and I suck in a breath, stepping forward and feeling reckless, but another voice eases the suffocating tension.
“Mikhail, come on! The pizza is getting cold.” Leah takes my wrist and tugs me inside. As I pass, Emilio and I stare each other down as silent threats spark between us.
“Was I interrupting something?” she asks, looking over her shoulder before climbing the staircase to the suite.
I shake my head. “Nah. Your father and I were just discussing business.”
Leah’s eyebrows pinch slightly as she studies my face, but her skepticism fades when I pluck a small feather from her bun.
“Ann was here this morning, and I kind of started a pillow fight,” she explains, cheeks flushing pink.
It’s as if I’m seeing her with new eyes, and she’s fucking adorable, but in a way that makes me want to kiss her, hold her, and fold her over the side of the couch.
“Ready to get your hands dirty?”
Her question is unintentionally loaded with sexual innuendos, and my cock understands every single one.
“Always,” I reply, my gaze locked on hers as heat simmers between us. I know she feels it.
“Good. But first, pizza. I’m starving.” Leah flips open the cardboard lid, and my smile evaporates the moment I see our lunch.
“They ran out of pepperoni?”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who hate pineapple and ham for no reason.” I bark a laugh. “Don’t tell me you are one of those who actually like this shit.”
She picks up a slice and pops a small wedge of the blasphemous fruit into her mouth.
“Mmm,” she moans, eyes closed. “My favorite.”
Maybe the damn thing isn’t so bad. If she makes that noise for me with every bite, it’ll also be my new favorite.
“I’m not convinced yet,” I say. “Take another bite.”
Leah nibbles on her lip, smoky eyes on my mouth as she brings the slice closer. “You try it,” she urges, breaking off a piece.
Holding her hand, I bring it into my mouth and kiss the tip of her finger.
“What are you doing, friend ?” Her voice is breathy, her chest rising and falling a little bit faster.
“Tasting the worst fucking pizza I’ve ever had.”
We break into sudden peals of laughter as I spit the bite of pizza into a napkin.
“You are such a pussy, Mikki.”
That word falling from her lips quells my laughter and, like it’s the most natural thing to do, I wind my arm around her waist and pull her to my chest.
“You have a dirty mouth, pretty girl.”
“Mikhail?” she questions, eyes pinging back and forth, unaware I’ve decided to keep her. “What is it, moya krasavitsa ?” Her eyes drift closed as I grip her chin and slant my lips over hers.
“Please don’t hurt me, Mikhail.”
I know what that means. Two weeks ago, I proposed we simply remain friends. And since then, even with our proximity, I’ve been careful to keep her at a distance, guarding her heart. But I know now, I’ve just been protecting my own.
“I’d die before hurting you.”
Her smile widens against my lips, body wrapping around mine as I lift her into my arms and kiss her like it’s the first time. Yet even as I’m drowning in her essence, I can’t help but think how our union can destroy everything I’ve built for the last eight years. The thought is a sobering one, but not enough to tear me away.
“Leah!” Rodrigo calls from the bottom of the stairs, though neither of us moves with urgency, too reluctant to let the other go.
“He’s coming,” she squeaks.
I finally let her slide down my body, grazing my aching cock.
“Come back to my place later so we can talk.”
She nods lazily, moving to a stool at the breakfast bar just as Rod appears in the doorway. “I still can’t believe you let Mom guilt you into staying here,” he says, eyeing us briefly before making a beeline to the pizza. “Aw, fuck, Leah. You still eat this shit?”