Chapter 8
LEV
I glance at the clock and stifle a groan. Nine a.m.
I can’t keep doing this, sleeping in shitty positions and places just to keep an eye on her. I have things to do, and keeping tabs on her, even if I have the help of my team, simply will not work.
Something has to give.
I get to my feet and note she doesn’t stir. Mikhail will expect me on a call to update, and I have almost nothing to tell them except Isabella Morales is unbreakable.
Is that true, though?
If I really wanted to get through to her, I could push harder. She buckled under the sexual tension I put on her, and if I leaned into that—yeah. Yeah, that would very likely work. But it doesn’t seem like she’s actually hiding anything.
I check on her before I go. In sleep, her hands are underneath her chin. She looks almost childlike, with none of that reservation and ballsy energy that defines her. She wore herself out. I take no small measure of satisfaction knowing I had something to do with that.
Here, she’ll be safely confined and under close surveillance.
Not that that stopped her yesterday. She’ll try to escape again, no doubt, but probably not right away. She likely wants a shower, some food, and maybe some money before she does.
I keep a wad of cash in the desk drawer.
I want her to get this out of her system. Let her push on the walls of that cage now because the sooner she does, the sooner she’ll realize she won’t ever escape.
If she were a man, she’d already be six feet under, and we’d be planning our strategy to take on the LSD. But she isn’t a man.
Oh, hell, she is not a man.
I take the call at the kitchen table—my iPad set up with a dual screen with Isabella’s sleeping form on the left side, my brothers on the other.
“Morning,” I tell them while I fire up the espresso machine.
“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Aleks says with a smirk. “How was your night?”
I snort and pull out a mug. I wonder if she drinks coffee and, if she does, how she takes it.
I set my mug in place and hit the button, the rich, decadent smell of hot espresso filling the room.
I turn to face the camera. “Exhausting,” I tell him honestly.
“But I can’t say this is the worst job I’ve ever had. ”
Mikhail smiles grimly. “Did she reveal anything to you when you interrogated her?”
I warm milk and frown, thinking it over.
I hit the froth button and watch the milk churn.
“More than she knows,” I say with a shrug.
I pour the foam into my mug, turn, and sit back down at the table.
I glance at the screen before I elaborate.
She turns over in her sleep, maybe thinking of waking up.
The blanket’s fallen to the side, revealing her perfect form. She starts to stretch.
“Gonna fill us in?” Viktor says darkly, leaning over in front of the screen with a scowl. He will never forgive her for sneaking onto his property unnoticed. He takes it as a personal threat against his wife.
He’s not wrong.
“Yeah. I’m monitoring her on another screen. So, there’s no tracking device on her at all. She really is on her own, which is telling in its own way. I know nothing else about why she’s here.”
Mikhail stares at the video camera in front of him. “Did you really interrogate her, brother? I know it’s harder with her being a woman.”
I take a sip out of my mug before I answer. I nod. “I did. I could’ve continued, but she was exhausted and worn out. So was I. It was a long fucking day. She almost escaped, too.”
Mikhail chuckles. “And how’d that work out for her?”
I shrug. “She didn’t get far.”
“I found out some shit,” Aleks says, looking down at his tablet. “And it corroborates what you’re saying, Lev.”
“Go on,” I say, leaning back in my chair, my gaze locked on Aleks.
He looks up from his tablet. “Isabella’s brother has been making some moves. His alliances are shifting, and he’s burned some big fucking bridges. It looks like he’s preparing for something huge.”
I tense, my grip tightening on my mug. “Like what?”
Aleks taps a few times on his tablet, pulling up a series of documents and photos. “He’s been in contact with some of our old enemies. There’s talk of some kind of seismic power shift, obviously it’s something to do with dismantling what we’ve built here in The Cove.
Mikhail curses. When he took over as pakhan in the wake of my father’s death, his first plan was to destroy our biggest adversaries.
However, it was like eliminating fucking weeds from a garden.
As soon as we removed the threat of the largest one, smaller, resilient ones popped up.
No one wants to see us get stronger, but with each year that passes, that’s exactly what we’ve done.
We’ve come to expect challenges. But the LSD may be the most significant challenge we’ve faced.
Mikhail’s expression grows serious. “And Isabella? How does she fit into all of this?”
Aleks shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe her brother’s using her to be eyes and ears for the cartel. Maybe she’s more involved in his operations than we initially thought.”
I shake my head. For some reason, I don’t believe that to be true.
Isabella is not the type of person to be used by any man, and she can’t disguise the raw hatred she has for her brother.
Aleks continues. “Maybe her presence here isn’t a coincidence.
Perhaps she was sent to gather intel, to find our weaknesses. ”
“No… I don’t think that’s it. Regardless, she’s still absolutely a threat to us, but I haven’t gotten to why yet. I’d bet my life she’s not working for her brother. Did you find out anything else?”
“Yeah,” Aleks continues. “Well, Aria did anyways.” Mikhail’s wife Aria is even more skilled than Aleks, often finding hidden layers of information that give us a broader, more holistic picture of the world around us and the threats lurking therein.
“She dug deep into her background. You may be right, Lev, because it seems she hasn’t been entirely loyal to her family.
There are rumors of her sabotaging their operations.
Things like freeing captives, especially women who were meant to be sold. Going against direct orders, etcetera.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “I bet her brother loved that.”
“Yeah,” Aleks says. “There’s a record here of an emergency visit last year. Looks like she had a broken arm and black eye.” My vision turns hazy red, and my cup clatters to the table. Only a fucking pussy raises a hand like that to a woman. A fucking pussy.
“Easy,” Mikhail says. “Think about it. What would we do if Polina sabotaged our efforts?”
“She fucking has,” I say, shaking my head. My sister’s penchant for being compassionate and fair has gotten her in loads of trouble. “You wouldn’t beat her, Mikhail.”
“Of course not,” he says.
“Then what are you saying?” I snap.
Viktor growls, and Aleks’s brows shoot up to his hairline. Mikhail clears his throat. “Watch it, Lev.”
I draw in a breath and let it out slowly.
“What I’m saying is this. You are not going to lose your shit on her brother because of some kind of misplaced chivalry.” He leans forward. “Am I clear?”
I’m shaking with the effort of controlling myself.
They don’t know what she’s like. I’ve never seen a woman as tenacious and fucking brilliant as Isabella Morales.
If some small-minded, tiny-dick asshole thinks hitting her is the way to get her compliance, I absolutely am fucking going to remember that.
I blow out a breath.
“Lev,” he says warningly. But he can’t intimidate me like he used to.
When I was young and wild, before I’d sown my oats and been fully inducted into the Romanov Bratva, my older brothers acted the part of guardians.
They kept me in line, made me obey the rules, and taught me discipline and respect, and as an adult, I’m grateful for that.
But sometimes, they don’t remember that I’m not that fucking unruly, unpredictable kid anymore.
Still, Mikhail is my pakhan, and I do owe him my allegiance and respect. I know I do.
I nod. “Yes. I understand. Isabella is a wild card.”
“Exactly,” Aleks says. “Which makes her both dangerous and highly valuable.” He sets the tablet down. “We need to decide how to handle her. If her brother finds out she’s here, things could escalate quickly.”
“It isn’t a matter of if,” Ollie says softly. “But when.” I almost forgot he was there.
I nod. He’s right. I take another sip of espresso, my mind racing. Her fierce resistance, her skills, and now this new intel paints an interesting albeit complex picture. She isn’t just a pawn. My suspicions about her are correct—she has her own agenda.
“I’m gonna watch her closely,” I say, determined. “Make no mistake. If she tries to betray us, she’ll learn what happens when you cross the Bratva.”
Mikhail nods. “Good.”
I won’t let anything jeopardize my family, not even the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I glance back at the screen where Isabella lies and lift my mug. I blink. Look harder. Shit.
She’s fucking gone.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter. “I’ll be back.” The alarm indicating she’s crossed the edge of my property blares. One of my brothers chuckles, and another one curses in Russian.
I tap the surveillance footage and can see clearly where she’s escaped. She’s a sleek little mouse, easily moving from one place to the next undetected. Christ. How am I going to keep this woman under my thumb?
I force myself to stay calm while I watch the footage to see how she escaped and how I’ll get to her.
She moves silently through my house, using her lock-picking skills to bypass several locked doors.
Her movements are precise and calculated, and there’s a small smile on her lips and a gleam in her eyes that tells me she’s enjoying herself immensely.
Fucking brat. We’ll deal with that later. She’s a few paces from the courtyard with no possible escape. She’ll trigger the security lights and alert the guards.
I’ll have to find another way to keep her shackled.