Chapter 5 – Sasha #2
Lev’s knife stills on the cutting board. His eyes lift, gray and cutting, pinning me in place. His brows rise ever so slightly, a slow curve of interest—or maybe challenge. “Is that the case?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild, like he’s amused and furious at the same time.
I force a bright, brittle smile, my heart hammering. “Actually, since you want to discuss it, Noelle….” I glance at her, then at Niko, before fixing my gaze squarely on Lev. “The bastard who broke my heart was a passenger. On one of my flights.”
Noelle’s brows shoot up. Niko’s brows rise, clearly intrigued.
I keep going, each word sharp enough to cut.
“He decided to charm me during a layover in Milan. Showed the whole crew around like he owned the city. Then, when we got to New York, he sent a car. A dress. Shoes. And a necklace that was so expensive I didn’t even dare keep it.
” My laugh is bitter. “He cooked for me himself, in some glossy penthouse, made me believe I was special.”
Noelle’s hand flies to her chest, scandalized. Niko mutters something vicious in Russian under his breath.
“And the very next morning,” I finish, voice flat, “he told me to leave. That I didn’t belong in his world. Just like that.”
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.
“That guy’s an asshole,” Niko says finally, his jaw hard. “Absolute asshole.”
“Unbelievable,” Noelle agrees, glaring as if she could stab this faceless man with her eyes. “Sasha, you deserve so much better.”
I feel my cheeks heat, but not from their sympathy. From Lev. Because he hasn’t moved, hasn’t blinked, but his grip on the knife is tighter, his jaw ticking.
He clears his throat and says evenly, “Maybe he had his reasons.”
I whip my head toward him. “Excuse me?”
His eyes catch mine, unreadable, but burning. “Sometimes…things are more complicated than they look.”
The room goes so still I can hear the sizzle of onions in the pan.
Noelle’s eyes dart between me and Lev, her brows knitting. “Wait.” She tilts her head, looking at him as if she’s trying to line up puzzle pieces. Then her gaze snaps back to me. “Sasha…Lev is the guy?”
I don’t hesitate. I nod once, sharp. “He’s the one.”
Her mouth falls open, scandal clear in her voice. “Oh my God.”
Niko straightens, apron hanging loose around his neck as he glares at Lev. “Are you fucking serious?” His accent roughens his words. “This is a new low. Even for you.”
Lev doesn’t flinch, but his hand stills on the knife, grip white-knuckled. His eyes flick to mine, unreadable, as if he wants to speak—wants to explain—but for once, he’s got nothing to say.
And I let the silence damn him.
“Since there’s nothing for me to do here,” I say, keeping my smile plastered in place, “I’ll go to the living room and watch a show. Niko, please, make sure Lev doesn’t poison me. He wants nothing at all to do with me, remember?”
Lev’s jaw tightens, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to speak. But I don’t give him the chance.
I turn on my heel, sundress swishing around my thighs, and walk straight out of the kitchen.
Only when the doorway swallows me whole do I let my smile fall. My breath escapes in a sharp rush, my chest too tight. God, I hate that he can still do this to me—make me bleed inside with just his eyes.
I glue my eyes to the TV, though I can’t remember a single thing about the show flickering across the screen. My pulse hasn’t slowed since I left the kitchen.
Eventually, Noelle’s voice carries down the hall. “Sasha, lunch is ready!”
I square my shoulders, paste on my polite smile, and join them at the table. The air is thick, but no one acknowledges it. Noelle does most of the talking, bless her, steering the conversation to safe, shallow waters. I nod, answer when I have to, keep my fork moving. I don’t look at Lev. Not once.
By the time the plates are cleared, I’m already standing. “Thank you for lunch,” I tell Noelle, forcing brightness into my tone. “I can’t stay, though. I’ve got a flight tomorrow, and I should rest.”
Her face falls, but she doesn’t press. I lean in and hug her tight, whispering, “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you more,” she sighs, squeezing me like she doesn’t want to let go.
I straighten, smooth the hem of my sundress, and turn toward the others. “Goodbye, Niko,” I say warmly enough, though I don’t linger. I can still feel Lev’s gaze. It burns into me, heavy, unrelenting, like he’s trying to brand me with those gray eyes alone.
Noelle clears her throat, almost too loudly. “Sasha, I’m…sorry for what Lev did.” Her tone is openly apologetic, almost pleading.
I glance at her, then shift my eyes to Lev. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t blinked, and the air between us stretches taut. “It isn’t you who needs to apologize,” I say softly, but the words strike sharp anyway.
For a moment, it’s just us—his stare locked with mine, unreadable, mine refusing to flinch. A battle in silence.
Then I turn on my heel and walk out, refusing to look back, even though my skin tingles like he’s still watching every step I take.