Chapter 22 Ivan
IVAN
Something in her eyes made me pause and pull away.
Fear.
Just a tiny flash of it at first, but then more as she went somewhere in her mind that wasn’t pleasant at all. It chilled my blood. The emotions in her eyes—otherwise always so guarded, not giving anything away—were laid bare.
She was experiencing her real core fear, the one we all have, that triggers you in seconds.
Mine is my girls, the intense foreboding of something happening to them, that someone would hurt them, that they’d be ripped from my life just as Milana was repeatedly torn from me as a child when she travelled to Russia with our mom.
A fear compounded with the dread that she’d never come back—or even worse, the horror of receiving one of her fingers in the post.
Something triggered Gabriella, and my simple question catapulted her straight into her worst nightmare.
For all she grew up in a convent, something happened to her that shouldn’t have happened at all.
It’s after all the Catholic Church, and of all the things they have, a sterling reputation when it comes to kids isn’t one of them.
For all I know, Gabriella Scalera is lying and has been kissed before, and she didn’t like it at all.
It could have been more than a kiss… It could have been—
And this happening to a girl, or a child… Images of Irisha and Katya flash in my head. They’ll know men one day, good men for sure—when they’re adults. Any time prior, the meaning of it, the mere idea— And now Gabriella, how old was she when—
I grip the doorjamb with both hands, straining with all my strength to stop myself from striding to her room and demanding to know everything.
She might essentially be a stranger, but how long does it take to know someone?
Some people can live together for years and learn nothing of each other.
Others can open the windows to their souls, creating a connection within seconds, giving knowledge and insight that could take decades to tease out of someone else.
What I read in her eyes told me everything.
But, even if memories gave her pause, her initial physical reaction to me spoke volumes. She yearns. A girl poised on the brink of womanhood, longing for permission to dive into the sea of female desire and find fulfillment in the right hands. Her husband’s hands…and only her husband’s hands.
Suddenly, there’s more to my quest for sons, for a mother for my girls, for a wife. I will have my way, but my sweet little bird will know only pleasure from here on. Every desire she has will be met, every vile memory erased by the loving, tender, capable hands of her husband.
My hands.
That look in Gabriella’s eyes still haunts me the next morning when I get dressed for work. Something is growing in me, the intense need to protect her, just like I want to protect Milana and my daughters.
I peer into the treasure box, wanting to hug Irisha and Katya before I head off to work. But they are still asleep, and I won’t wake them. If they went to bed early, they’ll be up soon.
I walk out and past the security gate, which I never bothered to lock, just in case…just in case what? She needed me?
Don’t be a fucking idiot.
But I slow down. Her door is ajar. It’s still dark out, the first hint of a new day barely on the horizon.
I push the door open, quietly, expecting her to still be asleep, but she’s already dressed and on her knees by her bed, praying.
A faint line of light from the bathroom’s half-closed door casts her in a soft glow as she presses the small golden cross to her lips, quietly whispering to it.
I’m not a religious man, but this stirs me somehow. I wonder what she’s so intensely praying for, because even if she’s noticed me, she hasn’t stirred.
“Gabriella,” I say after half a minute. Moya ptichka.
She snatches in a breath, completely startled as she turns to me, still on her knees, clutching her cross to her chest, mouth perfectly open in an inviting O.
Fuck my life.
“Mr. Petrov.”
I hold my hand out to her. “I have to get going, and the girls will wake up soon. You need to go to my room.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
She scrambles up by herself and ignores my hand. With just a handful of words, she’s drawn the line back, splitting us back into employer and employee. Whatever happened between us last night, my little bird is going to keep this professional.
We’ll see about that. A small, quiet smile wants to ghost over my lips because she doesn’t stand a chance against me.
“I’m going to be late tonight and be gone the whole day. Yuri will be here.”
“Must he be?”
“Yes, for now.” Until you’ve earned my trust.
Until I’ve earned yours. After last night and seeing that fear in her eyes, going fast is no longer an option. I’ll have to let her set the pace. Irisha and Katya will be this age one day, and I wouldn’t want to hand them over to monsters, so I refuse to be one.
Now that my eyes have adjusted to the little light, I notice tear stains on her cheeks.
What the hell? For what…and why? I wish I could pull her to me and ask, but she’s distant now, maybe even regretting everything that happened last night.
That’s the last thing I want for her, but breaking down her walls is going to take time.
Still, I pad closer, reach out, and with a soft sweep of my thumb, brush at the tear stain.
She steps away, eyes downcast, an apologetic woebegone smile on her lips as she wipes at the spot where I touched her. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Coming to live here threw her into the deep end. She might have left with me ‘willingly,’ but she had no choice. She needs reassurance, not only from me, but from her brothers, too.
“I want you to phone your family today, Gabriella. I want you to speak to them every day,” I say, not done with my instructions. “You must reassure your brothers that you are safe. Can you do that for me?”
She looks at me, and then her gaze sweeps down my body, a mimic of last night’s slow inspection, as if she wants to reconnect with every line of ink, every bullet wound on my body, this time being bolder and trace them with a fingertip.
The notion is wildly erotic and I latch on to this beam of hope.
If she could desire me, think and maybe even fantasize about me, about us, my way is paved.
“You feel safe here, don’t you, Gabriella?” I ask when she only licks her bottom lip and says nothing. “Gabriella?”
“Yes, it’s only that Yuri swapped my phone—”
“For a simpler one. I know. So you can’t send videos and photos from the house. Yuri needs to be close for now, just until the girls are comfortable. They’ve known him since birth and he’s like an uncle to them.”
She nods. “I understand. It’s not like I’m used to any of this in any case, but it won’t be new for my brothers.” She gives a dismissive wave at her bedroom, encompassing the luxury that turned out not to be bulletproof.
“You can call me if you need to, you understand that, right? Don’t hesitate, if there’s anything. If your brothers want to see you over a video call, phone from Yuri’s phone. He will allow it, and it should leave them reassured.”
“I will, thank you, Mr. Petrov.”
“It’s Ivan, but don’t worry about it, we’ll get there.”
With a nod, I turn and walk into the corridor, just as Katya’s sleepy voice calls out for me. I’m already late and have to brief Yuri, so I ignore her and rush down the stairs, my heart in my throat, feeling like a shitty dad.
As I walk into the kitchen, Yuri is there, finishing off his coffee.
“She’s already up?” he asks, knowing I wouldn’t have come down if Gabriella wasn’t with the girls.
“Yes.” Everything that’s happened between us brewed overnight. Now, her tears. Gabriella isn’t exactly a stranger anymore, and I plan to get to know everything I can about her, whatever means I need to use. “Listen, put time aside today to throw out your hooks on Randazzo.”
“Okay. What are you looking for?”
We did a very high-level search when Gabriella first surfaced and her story came to light. There’s a connection with the Scaleras and Randazzo, and a creepy-as-fuck deal made around her birth and her ending up in Italy as a young girl, but I need the dirt, the fine print, the verbal vows.
“I want to know where he shat, where he pissed, who he fucked, and who he did deals with. Every last detail and not a cent spared to buy the information if you need to pay for it.”
“The man’s dead,” Yuri says, brows raised in question.
“Not dead enough.” Whatever he’s done to Gabriella, or allowed to happen to her, still lives in her body, her mind, throwing a dark blanket over the light of her soul. I plan to rip it off and make her glow.
A beautiful young woman like her shouldn’t be afraid of the man she’s going to marry, even if she hasn’t registered that part of the agreement I’ve made with her brothers yet.
Last night, she stared at me with a slow, budding desire, until I asked her whether she’s ever been kissed before. The light in her eyes changed, going dark with fear and dread.
I don’t know how she got there in seconds, but I’ll make it my life’s work to make sure she’ll never have that look in her eyes again—least of all when she gazes up at me.