Chapter 17
ISABELLA
Ever since he saw me on the phone, Lev has been acting strangely distant.
It is hard for me to reconcile the fact that he’s the same tender, passionate lover who took care of me on the beach—who wants to take care of me when our nights are filled with passion and our days are filled with planning, training, and preparation for what I know will be a monumental confrontation.
It's building. I know it is, and we can both feel the tension, like the climbing clicks of a roller coaster before it reaches the top, revealing the unknown ahead. I can only hope we don’t hurtle to our deaths.
I tried to get him to talk to me, but he won’t, which is totally in line with his character. I suppose I can’t blame him. It looked suspicious. I’m protective of my friend, though, and it matters to me that she trusts me, too.
We are days out before the planned attack on Javier, and Lev has barely been home. I shoot him a text, hoping he can feel my simmering anger.
Are you coming home for dinner?
I don't get a response for an hour.
Lev
Maybe.
I slam my phone on the couch and anchor my hands on my hips.
It feels like we are an old, married couple trying to navigate a new season of life, but in reality, we're just trying to figure out who we are—on the brink of something new and life changing.
One moment, I feel as if I can fully trust him. I believe he has my best interest at heart, and the two of us will rule together. Next, I am catching my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Part of me knows that I have to prove my allegiance to him, but goddamn, I need him to prove his allegiance to me, too.
Whatever.
I pick up my phone and send him another text.
I want an answer. Are you coming home or not?
I don't bother to hide the anger in my tone. I'm still his wife, at the end of the day, whether he trusts me or not, he should answer my texts.
Lev
Don't give me shit.
I will give him more than shit. I don’t respond.
When seven o’clock rolls around, I stomp off to the fridge.
I spent four hours training today, and I swear I feel every muscle in my body.
My calves ache, my back throbs, but I am getting stronger with every day that passes.
Javier won't see what hit him. Every time my body wants to give out, every time I want to give up, I think about those women back at home.
I think about what it will mean when I take my rightful position as head of LSD.
I grab some leftovers, toss them onto a plate, and throw it in the microwave. It beeps a moment later, and I eat without tasting it.
I want this over with. And I want Lev and me on the same page again, goddammit.
Of course, at the back of my mind, a little voice says, Were we ever?
It felt like it on the island. It felt like it when we were cooking together, sharing our hopes and dreams.
Then why the distance now?
I toss the dish into the sink.
"You’re just gonna throw it in the sink? You're not gonna put it in the dishwasher?”
I spin on my heel, angrier that he came into the room without me knowing than I am about his admonishing me for a stupid dirty dish. "Yeah, I do my fair share of dishes around here. It's one fucking dish. When did you get here?"
"Just now. What did you eat for dinner?"
I shrug. "I have no idea."
He looks puzzled. My heart twists at the adorable furrow between his brows and his downturned lips. The shadow of stubble on his chin and the rumble of his voice.
He scratches his belly, and it’s unnervingly boyish.
Damn it all to hell. I am mad for this infuriating man.
“Seriously, how do you not know what you ate?”
"Because I like everything in that fridge. I trained for hours, and I was starving. I was looking for food in my belly, not a delicacy.” I huff and toss my hair. “Sue me.”
We haven’t had sex in four days and I’m feeling a little ornery.
“Jesus, woman. You’re grumpy as fuck. Do I need to fuck this out of you? It’s like you’re hormonal and shit.”
He’s lucky all I have is a glass of water in my hand and not a gun. I toss the water straight into his handsome, arrogant face.
His jaw drops, water coursing down his cheeks in rivulets. I wish it felt more vindictive, but I only feel like a child who didn’t get her way.
"What the fuck?”
He stalks over to me, but I stand my ground. "Only a complete dick blames a woman's attitude on her period.”
His eyes narrow on me. “I didn’t say period. I said hormones.”
“Same thing!”
He throws his hands up in the air. “When the fuck did I give you the impression I was a good guy?"
When did he tell me? He didn't need to.
When he carried me back after a jellyfish stung me. When he made me dinner. When he listened with sympathy when I told him about the bullshit my family put me through. When he defended me to his brothers. Me, Isabella Morales—Romanova.
No one's ever defended me in my entire life.
"You're right, Isabella. Honeymoon over.”
The shift hurts. The intimate moments we shared, the tentative plans for our future together. It’s vanished overnight. I want to reach out to him. I want to cling to the closeness we had before.
He stops short a few feet from me, glares at me and grabs a dishtowel, running it over his face. I deflate a little. I wanted more of a fight from him.
“You piss me off so much. Jesus, woman.” He turns away. I can see the restraint it takes for him not to lash out. His muscles strain. “I’ve got a lot on my mind, and you’re acting evasive as shit. I can’t help wondering what the hell you’re hiding. Jesus, Isabella. Don’t fucking push me.”
“I didn’t share one conversation with you, and you decide to question every interaction we’ve had? Every word I’ve spoken? You think I’m manipulating you? What are you playing at?”
His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t respond. “You think I’m playing you?”
My throat catches. I’m on the brink of losing everything. Fucking everything. What are we even fighting about?
“I need to know you’re still loyal to us and not the LSD,” he snaps.
“What else can I do to prove it to you? Hmm? What else do you want? Blood?”
I want to shake him until his teeth rattle. I want to scream until I’m hoarse. I feel helpless and angry, caught between one family that hates me and another that doesn’t trust me.
“You were on a burner phone. That’s not your regular phone.”
I throw my hands up in the air, my temper boiling over.
I half wish someone would douse me with water.
“Of course I was. If anyone knew I was talking to Renata, they could trace me. But you don’t care, Lev.
You’re too blinded by your trust issues to hear reason.
” My voice catches. It infuriates me. Tears blur my vision, which makes me even angrier.
“I’ve been trying to find a way to protect us both.
I’ve done nothing wrong. But you won’t hear me. ”
It feels like the clouds have shifted, and darkness is creeping in, heralding a storm. Proving my loyalty to him will be a monumental task, but I’m determined to try. I’m all in with the Romanovs. I am all in with the plans he and I made to rule together.
“My trust issues?” He scoffs. “My trust issues?”
I throw my hands up. “What the hell?”
“If you trusted me, you would’ve had that conversation with Renata in front of me.”
I blow out a breath. “Unbelievable.” I roll my eyes. “What next? You want me to show you every text I send? You want to approve of who I can talk to and who I can’t?”
His eyes narrow on me. Without a word, he turns and walks away.
“Hey! We’re not done here.”
“I am.”
I watch his retreating back. My heart hurts. I want to be on the same team again. “I am not!”
“I’m not arguing over this anymore. For God’s sake, yes. Yes. You have to prove your loyalty. But based on what Aleks just told me, you’ll have your chance much sooner than later.”
I swallow. A shiver of cold runs down my back. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He looks over his shoulder, his expression dark. “Javier’s on the move.”
I’m at the top of that roller coaster, and the path before me looks fucking fraught. I can’t see where it goes. What if I run straight off the tracks?
He stalks into his office and goes to shut the door, but I jam my foot in front of it.
The room is luxurious and intimidating, with dark wooden furniture, rich leather chairs, maps, monitors, and a huge, imposing desk.
He frowns at me from his desk but doesn’t respond.
He leans over and fires up his laptop. I watch as water from his face drips onto a map.
I normally love this room because it’s an extension of him.
“Jesus, Isabella. Leave it.”
“I want answers. What do you mean Javier’s on the move?”
He walks away from me and paces back and forth, his expression dark and troubled.
“Our guy doesn’t know where he is. No one does.”
It feels like someone tossed ice down my back. I shiver. “No one?” Javier is a snake, crawling on his belly toward us, and no one can see him.
He shakes his head. “No one. We can only assume he’s coming here and is ready to strike.”
Fuck.
Of course he is.
My mind races. “Renata could find out.”
Lev pauses, his eyes conflicted. His tee is still soaked with the water, his hair hanging down like he’s a surfer who just came up for air. He frowns. “I’ve been hearing things. We suspect Javier’s behind several attacks on our operations.”
“What? He wouldn’t risk open war.”
Lev’s voice tightens, filled with suspicion. "Are you sure about that? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear? How well do you know him?”
I stand, staring at him. "I’m telling you the truth. Do you think I’d lie to you after everything we’ve been through?"
He turns away, running a hand through his damp hair. “I don’t know anymore. Your brother will stop at nothing to end us.” His voice trails off.
I step closer to him. “And what do you see when you look at me, Lev? The woman who’s risked everything to be with you? The woman who’s fought by your side? Or someone who was sent to tear you apart?”
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know who to trust.”