Chapter 16 - Elena
I don’t know what’s more unsettling…the fact that Wyatt is suddenly being honest with me, or that I want to believe him.
Today feels different. The condo feels quieter, though it isn’t just that. It’s also from the deliberate care in everything he’s been doing, and the way he gives me space, along with the way he looks at me like he’s memorizing instead of guarding.
After last night, I didn’t expect any of this to mean a thing to him.
Men like him don’t wake up softer after sleeping together. They don’t change their plans for a woman. If anything, I anticipated only distance, coldness, and a return of those sharp, grumpy edges.
Instead, he ran me a bath, and he told me the truth. He finally revealed the one thing he’s been keeping close to his heart.
It’s disarming, and despite being aware of it, I go along with it. Really, what other choice do I have? In all honesty, a traitorous part of me wants to see where this goes.
Still, I’m not naive enough to think Wyatt would change for me. It’s likely just the afterglow making him seem softer than usual, but soon enough, that will surely fade. It was just sex to him…I know that’s it.
And since I’ve been biding my time, this is exactly what I’ve been wanting. The chance at freedom, regardless of what the outcome is for him.
With the arrangements made, it starts to feel more real as I go through the motions. Wyatt gives me the chance to finish up and get dressed, and once I’m done, breakfast is waiting for me.
We’re going to Roman’s house. While it isn’t exactly private enough to discourage bloodshed, this isn’t exactly something that can be discussed in public. Wyatt is meticulous, careful, and in absolute control, but here and now, he has to hand the reins over.
He’s risking everything, all with the hope that I won’t throw him to my brothers like a sacrifice.
Wyatt’s calm as he drives, but I can feel the tension coiled tightly beneath his skin. He knows the gravity of this situation, and it’s weighing on him even if he doesn’t mention it.
He has every reason to panic, even if it’s only internally.
My brothers have ended lives for less. He would be handled no differently.
I’m just as silent as he is throughout the drive, letting it sink in that this is it. Once I walk into that house, everything changes. The very thing I’ve been wanting for far too long is finally on the horizon.
I should be relieved. I finally get to see my brothers, and I’ll be able to reassure them in person that, despite being forced into a marriage I didn’t ask for, he kept me alive.
He was more decent to me than any other man in his situation would be.
I should be thinking about running back to them and letting them take me away from this whole mess.
I should want Wyatt to be left to deal with the consequences of his choices alone.
But, something about that sits wrong in my gut.
Despite my better judgment, my mind drifts to the way he looked at me this morning, like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen.
How he talked about his sister with such tenderness.
How the slight chill in his fingers when he passed me the phone earlier gave away the anxiety he was hiding beneath the surface.
He trusted me with that call. He’s trusting me now.
I know what I should want, but I don’t know what feels right anymore.
Having sex with him shouldn’t have changed anything, and while it did to some degree, it’s everything else that had the greatest impact on my change of heart. How he protected me when he didn’t need to, actually listened to my demands, and even showed me his vulnerable angles.
He isn’t what I expected him to be, and that only makes this decision feel all the harder to make.
Wyatt still doesn’t say anything as he reaches the gate, not needing to let his intentions be known before it swings open without hesitation. With a tight jaw, he wheels up the driveway, eventually throwing the car into park before turning it off.
With a slow breath, he glances at me, searching my face. “You okay?”
I hesitate, feeling both the traces of my troubled thoughts and a weird kind of anticipation for what’s to come. “I don’t know yet.”
He just nods, as if he understands completely, then he unbuckles himself and props the door open. “Come on then…let’s get this over with.”
The oddly solemn air between us feels thicker than anticipated, but I get out with him, eventually feeling as his hand lingers at the small of my back, more like an instinct by now. It’s grounding and slightly possessive, and something in me doesn’t hate it.
The walk towards the front of the house feels long, but as I gain momentum, letting the reality sink in, I feel myself walking faster.
Everything explodes the second we step inside.
Figures surround us at once, accompanied by the clicking of safeties being pulled. Several pistols point in Wyatt’s direction, forcing his hands up at once, eyes widening by a touch. The furious figures of my brothers fill my awareness.
Roman, Mikhail, Sergey, Ivan, and Nikolai…the very faces I used to rarely go a day without seeing.
The thought alone makes the corners of my eyes burn, but I hardly have the chance to dwell on it.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Roman snaps, gaze sharp enough to kill.
Mikhail moves fast, using a hand to pull me towards him, putting immediate space between Wyatt and me without hesitation. The moment I’m out of reach, his grip on me tightens as he wraps both arms around me.
Despite the familiar comfort of his presence, my pulse roars in my ears.
Everything goes perfectly still, and Wyatt doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t even flinch despite the many guns he’s forced to stare down, absolutely cornered and in the worst possible position. The very thing he’s been trying to avoid.
“It’s about goddamn time,” Mikhail murmurs, cheek brushing against the top of my head briefly before he looks down at me, expression both serious and flooding with relief.
My heart races, caught between so many emotions at once.
“Elena,” Roman says, cutting through the quiet. His eyes are already on me. “Come here.”
As Mikhail lets me go, I step forward, and Roman’s hand finds my shoulder as he guides me closer. The former focuses on aiming at Wyatt.
“Are you hurt?” Roman asks, expression softening noticeably as he lowers his pistol and puts a caring hand against my cheek. “Did he hurt you?”
My chest clenches and aches at the familiar softness he has always used with me, like I’m the family jewel that needs protecting. Tears spring to my eyes before I can stop them, but a smile. “No, he didn’t…I’m fine.”
He inspects me closely, searching for any sort of lie, then his thumb brushes over my cheekbone. But as tender as the moment is, it isn’t the time. With a decisive breath, he nods and keeps me close before looking back at the main event.
“You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” Mikhail mutters, gaze lethal on Wyatt.
Finally, he speaks, keeping his hands up. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
“They never do,” Nikolai mutters, giving him a look that can only be followed up with violence. Even if I never witness the gruesome parts of their business, I know that hardened expression of his comes with his hands-on work.
“We’ve heard rumours of an up-and-comer gaining more traction around here. Covert operations… establishing businesses and moving money without being seen. The Vegas Ghost, they say,” Roman begins, tone unwavering. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
Wyatt exhales through his nose, murmuring sardonically, “The nickname really stuck, huh?”
“Then I guess we have our answer. We didn’t know it was you.”
“That was the point.”
“Apparently,” Roman grits as the tension only thickens.
Despite how big the house is, the foyer is only so big with everyone pinning Wyatt in place, not giving him even a chance to breathe. It’s volatile, and with one wrong move, this could be the end for him.
The thought makes something twist in me.
“You kidnapped our sister,” Ivan utters, adjusting his grip on the pistol with the same razor-sharp focus he uses while checking live feeds and scrubbing old footage. It’s almost strange for me to see a weapon in his grasp, rather than a screen.
Wyatt’s eyes slide to me, then back to the others. “She was kidnapped by someone else. She was given to me to save their skin, and I kept her safe from the others.”
“That’s not how this works,” Roman says, icy and unforgiving.
As much as I still resent the way Wyatt handled things, watching him stand there like that, facing them all directly, makes something burn inside me.
“Let him finish,” I cut in, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice.
I feel everyone’s attention turns to me immediately.
“Elena,” Roman warns.
“I’m not a child, and I’m not helpless,” I say, well aware that I’m not usually one to speak to him like this. “Just listen.”
Another beat of uncertainty goes by, almost like they can’t believe what I’m saying. Given his expression, Wyatt doesn’t expect it either.
“He never hurt me even when he could’ve,” I continue, reminding myself that his very life is on the line, not mine. “The other man was going to sell me, and while Wyatt could’ve handed me off just as easily, he didn’t.”
“That doesn’t make him a saint,” Mikhail says with a scoff. “Not when he has something else to gain.”
“I didn’t say it did, but it doesn’t make him a monster either.”
Roman glances between us, not hiding that calculating look. “Why are you defending him?”
With a discreet breath, I reply, “Because he brought me here despite knowing exactly this would happen. And because he came to see Lily…his sister.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightens right as that little fact feels more like a bomb detonating. Everyone goes perfectly still while that truth settles in, and Mikhail tenses.
Then, he nods. “I thought she was being held here against her will, so I planned to leverage Elena for her until I learned I was wrong.”
“Is that not what you’re trying to do now?” Roman asks, still skeptical. “…Leveraging her?”
“No,” Wyatt says without missing a beat. “I brought Elena here as an act of good faith. I don’t want either of them hurt.”
Mikhail’s gaze narrows. “What do you want then?”
“I just want to see Lily for myself. To see that she’s alive and well.”
My brother bristles, then he laughs, lacking humour. “You expect us to believe that? That you’ll just walk away if she’s happy?”
“I expect you to watch me do it.”
The room goes quiet again, and despite myself, I feel a glimmer of hope move through me when they don’t push harder.
After a long, almost agonizing stretch, Roman sighs and gestures for everyone to lower their weapons. Despite their instincts, they listen, doing so reluctantly. Finally, they step back just enough to ease up on him.
It isn’t with trust or forgiveness, but a small, fleeting opportunity to prove himself.
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t like this,” Roman says, meaning every word. “I don’t like you…but my sister thinks you’re worth giving a chance. So I will, for now.”
I watch as Wyatt relaxes just enough to breathe, conceding in his silent surrender. “The feeling’s mutual…”
The tension doesn’t go away, but it loosens, allowing more air to rush back into my lungs.
Watching him, I catch something close to relief in Wyatt’s eyes, and despite myself, I realize I might’ve indirectly chosen a side already.