Chapter 20 #2
I resume my blows on his back just as he reaches the doors and enters, goose bumps popping all over my skin at once as the cold AC air settles on me, and a shudder rushes through me. “Put me down.”
“A little patience, moy cvetochek.”
“Do not call me that! I’m no longer your anything.”
He ignores me, of course he does, and walks farther into the house, and for the first time, I have to really study it, although there isn’t much to study in the first place.
It looks almost like a replica of his parents' house, with the gold and beige dominating the color scheme, along with the glistening marble and expensive antiques spread throughout.
That’s about it, though, since the spacious hallway, living room, and dining room don’t have any furniture.
The terrace seems to be shut, so for now, the only route to escape is through the main doors, but he probably has cameras here. Still, I do my best to memorize everything so I can use it to my advantage once I get the chance.
We pass by several walls where I see various oil paintings, probably dating back to the nineteenth century, depicting images from Norse mythology. I recognize the various gods and goddesses.
Odin, Thor, Freya, Sif, Frig, Njord, Alva just to name a few, all majestic in their glory.
I pause at the Thor who is showcased holding his hammer Mjolnir with his two magical goats on either side of him as thunder cracks the sky and lights him up so gorgeously that power emits from him, even from the painting.
His painting is next to Odin, who sits on his throne, his wolves on either side of him, looking straight into your soul, as if warning you not to go against him because the consequences would be severe.
And still, his eyes hold so much wisdom, making you wish to come closer and wonder if looking at the painting might give you answers to all your internal conflicts.
It’s impossible to stay silent. “They are beautiful.”
“I agree. Took me a while to gather them all here, but my patience paid off.”
“Is this why you don’t have any furniture? You used up all your money to buy the paintings?”
He chuckles and starts going up the stairs to the second floor. “No. I don’t spend enough time here to focus on decorations. It worked for the best.”
“Why?”
Why are you even continuing this conversation?
To be fair, thrashing and screaming won’t help me right now, and I should act calm to find a way out. Maybe if I become less difficult, he’ll let down his guard, and I’ll manage to find his phone to call my brothers.
“Now you can decorate our house however you wish. Although I have a certain antique dining table in mind with Celtic engravings that’s nonnegotiable. I think you’ll like it.”
And just like that, the anger is back.
“You’re more delusional than I thought if you think I’m going to play house with you here. We are not in a relationship! You’re my stalker.”
“Try to sound less pleased when you say that.”
“It doesn’t please me!”
“Whatever you say, moy cvetochek.”
We move through an empty hallway with several doors until we reach the massive brown ones, and he kicks them open with his foot.
The room has nothing but a king-sized bed right in the middle.
He heads straight to the bathroom with several mirrors, a huge bathtub, a shower stall, and so many bright lights I instantly hate it.
“What are you doing?” He places me on the counter near the sink, then turns on the shower, adjusting the water until I see hot steam fill the space.
“Get warm and relax your muscles, but I don’t want you taking a bath, or you might fall asleep hungry. You can either wear my robe or wear the clothes prepared for you. They are on the bed. You have thirty minutes, and then I want you to join me downstairs for dinner.”
“Is there anything else you want?”
I hope he hears in my tone what I think about his orders.
“So much, but you aren’t ready to hear about that. Don’t test my patience, moy cvetochek, it’s already running thin.” He taps on my nose, and I slap his hand away, hating how my stomach flutters at such a light touch.
He made my body addicted to him, and now he can use its weakness, but I won’t let him.
I won’t be a fool who is led by her hormones.
He walks off and shuts the door behind me while I ponder my options. I quickly remove the dress, hating the wet fabric on my skin, and step into the shower, welcoming the hot water.
My stomach rumbles, and I know it’s for the best that I will go down. Levi might be a psychopath. However, he won’t spike my drinks or take me by force.
I do not doubt this.
So, eating to regain my strength and hanging out with him to make a phone call is a good plan.
I just hope the said plan won’t bite me in the ass by the end of the night.
Levi
Gavin places the last dish on the kitchen island and sighs. “Let’s hope she eats this time. Call me if you need us. Otherwise, we’re heading out for the night.”
“I won’t be calling.”
“Well then, good luck.”
He leaves via the kitchen door leading to the garden, heading to his house, while I lean back in my chair, watching various foods he made, chuckling.
They are all Lavender’s favorites, since I made him memorize all her preferences.
It’s going to be her house and her staff someday, so they might as well get a head start.
My phone rings, and my brow furrows when I notice Ian’s name flashing on the screen.
Despite Wyatt becoming my best friend, our deep bond never transferred to Ian, meaning we were civil toward one another but never stayed in each other’s company longer than necessary.
I don’t even remember us talking without Wyatt present. It’s not that we don’t like each other. We just never clicked in any way, and I never understood his friendship with the Boston Bratva’s heir either.
So this call has trouble written all over it.
“What’s up?”
“I need your help.” I sway my whiskey glass, watching the ice melt inside it while waiting for him to elaborate.
Compared to Wyatt, Ian chooses his words methodically and never rushes to make his point.
He’s also way less hotheaded, preferring cunning calculations over anything else.
“Daisy finishes school soon. Find a way to send her away for the entire summer.”
Of all the things I expected him to say, this was never on my fucking list.
“Daisy, as in Daisy Hale, your mother’s ex-husband’s daughter, who is fourteen and has the biggest crush on Wyatt?
” The poor thing has stars whenever she looks at him, and he avoids her like the plague, hoping his dismissal of her will cure it.
Not that I blame him. I’d do the same in his place.
“Why would I do that?” I’ve seen the girl a total of three times in my life, and our families aren’t friends.
Sebastian Hale is a brilliant lawyer whose work I would have admired, except for their past with Dr. King, which makes me dislike the guy, and the twins hate him too.
“She’s turning fifteen this summer, and her friend came up with an idea of taking them on a week-long cruise.
Where she plans to ruin her life.” My instincts go on high alert at this because I get the meaning at once.
“Daisy is reckless and naive, which is a dangerous combination. And she’s way too trusting.
She’ll find trouble, and I don’t want that.
She might love her friends, she loves horses way more though. ”
Right. Isn’t she an equestrian?
“I don’t get it, Ian. Why not call Wyatt to handle it?” And what does he expect me to do anyway? Kidnap a minor?
“Because he seems a bit too preoccupied with Aurelia.” Anger laces his tone, and I hear something crack on the other end of the line.
Who knew a girl would break the twins’ unshakable bond?
Tragic, if you ask me. “Besides, I’m in a hellhole right now and won’t be able to come up with the money to save her.
So buy her an expensive horse and make her train him somewhere in Texas.
I’ll deal with her friend in the meantime. ”
My lips twitch at his commanding voice. You can take a person’s wealth, but never his birthright arrogance.
A King is always a King, even if he’s exiled from his kingdom.
“Why don’t you ask your Bratva friend to do that?”
“Because mentioning any female name to the Bratva is dangerous. She might become a liability.”
“All right. Consider it done.” Aileen is obsessed with riding and frequently visits her best friends, Eve and Caroline, who own several acres of land in Houston.
Their father has an oil empire, and they also have ranches.
They should be able to help me find a horse in need of love who would benefit from a summer program.
I heard Daisy has a soft spot for tortured souls.
“Don’t mention this conversation to Wyatt either.”
“Don’t push it, Ian. You've already given me two orders. Make sure there is no third one, or you can go fuck yourself.”
He laughs, and the carefree sound reminds me of the guy he used to be just a year ago, before everything went to hell. “Protect Daisy, Levi. I feel responsible for her in a way. It’s my fault she has this obsession with Wyatt.”
“Why?”
“She thinks he saved her from a snowstorm, but it was me who did. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Hopefully, he will crush her heart irrecoverably so she can move on, and I won’t have to watch over her anymore.”
Whenever he speaks about the girl, he uses the same tone he uses when he talks about Emmaline.
He clearly considers her his little sister and has a soft spot for her.
Just like Wyatt, despite the distance he put between them.
But doesn’t this information imply that the girl actually has a crush on Ian, then?
If he’s not careful, this whole thing will blow up in his face and complicate the already complicated relationship between their families.