Chapter Twenty
Audrey
The first thing I hear is the steady beeping of a monitor somewhere nearby.
I blink three times before the ceiling above me comes into clear view. It’s white and smooth, nothing like the one in my apartment or Igor’s mansion.
Something tugs at the back of my hand, and I crane my neck to find a bag of saline liquid dangling from a pole made of stainless steel next to my bed. The tube attached to it slips under a white piece of tape attached to my wrist.
My room rocks gently. I start to think it’s another wave of dizziness until I hear waves slapping against metal outside somewhere.
A yacht.
I’m on a yacht.
The last thing I remember is the sound of gunshots and the smell of gunpowder in my apartment. And then…I saw Igor’s face. At least, I’m pretty sure I saw him running toward me before I passed out.
My pulse begins to race.
What if Igor’s dead and Serrano took me? I need to find out where I am.
Ripping the needle from my skin, I push myself up, but before I can climb out of bed, a deep, familiar voice cuts through the raging thoughts in my head.
“I wouldn’t advise you to do that.”
When I glance in the direction of the voice, my heart skips two beats. Igor’s standing in a corner of the room, watching me. He’s been there all along, and I didn’t even notice.
“Igor.”
I’m happy to see him, but then I’m scared. I don’t know how he’ll react to me or if he’s still mad at me. Of course he is.
To my surprise, he walks toward me and sits beside the bed, elbows resting on his knees. His hair is slightly disheveled, dark circles shadow the skin beneath his eyes, and the stubble along his jaw has grown rough enough to tell me he hasn’t shaved since I passed out.
“You’re awake.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing against my skin in a gentle stroke.
Goosebumps rise on skin. I tilt my head to meet his gaze, my eyes searching his.
There’s no rage in his expression, and his usual blank, icy mask has been replaced with something softer. I can’t wrap my head around what’s happening.
“Igor, I...” I pause and draw in a breath, finding the courage to speak. “I’m sorry about everything that’s happened. I should’ve been honest with you.”
He takes my hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “It’s fine. Whatever you did, I don’t care anymore. All that matters is that you’re safe now.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Tears prick the back of my eyes and my breathing turns ragged. “He has Matthew. We need to save him before—”
“Audrey.” The look Igor gives me is so sad that it sends a tremor right down my spine. “Matthew is…he didn’t make it.”
My world doesn’t slow down. It comes to a complete stop. I stare at Igor, waiting for him to take it back. Waiting for him to tell me it’s a bad joke and Matthew is back at the club, serving customers with his usual, sweet demeanor.
But he doesn’t.
“He...” My throat burns. “He’s really...”
Igor nods. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t remember the tears giving me any warning. One second I’m staring at him, and the next, tears are pouring down my face so hard I can barely breathe. A broken sob tears itself from somewhere deep inside my chest.
“Oh, God.” I think of Matthew. Sweet, friendly Matthew who everyone loved. And now he’s dead because of me. “It’s my fault,” I say. “It’s all my fault.”
“Audrey, none of this is your fault.”
He’s lying to comfort me. I know deep down he also blames me. I pull away from him, pressing both palms against my face.
Grief, guilt, and shame all crash into me at one.
“If I hadn’t been so stupid...if I hadn’t let Serrano use me...if I hadn’t wanted revenge over something so pathetic, none of this would’ve happened. Matthew would still be alive. I killed him.”
“You did not kill him.” Igor’s voice is firm, but it does nothing to lighten the guilt I feel.
The words rip out of me louder than I intended. “I brought Serrano into all of our lives.” Fresh tears blur my vision. “I thought I was hurting you. I thought if I helped the FBI expose you, I’d finally get justice for what happened between us. I was so stupid. So dumb.”
I sink lower on the mattress, unable to meet his eyes anymore. The only sound in the room is that of my sobs. Igor doesn’t stop me; he lets me cry until I don’t have any more tears.
When he finally speaks, he doesn’t blame me for anything. His tone is gentle. “Tell me everything you know about Emiliano, from the start.”
Nodding and sniffling, I tell Igor how Serrano contacted me a year ago, pretending to be FBI.
How I eventually found out he was part of a crime organization and kept working for him, how I found out he was behind the attack, and how he was Emiliano.
Then finally, I tell him why I went out to meet Emiliano that day and why I lied to him when I got back.
By the time I finish, I expect him to explode with rage. Instead, he pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. “I’m so sorry for not hearing you out. You got hurt because I didn’t trust you.”
I shake my head. “I should have told you the truth from the start.”
“You had your reasons, and I had mine.” He pauses, and I hear his heartbeat quicken in his chest. “I should’ve told you I was in love with you. I love you, Audrey. And I’m so sorry it took this long for me to realize that.”
The words don’t sink in immediately. They just float around inside my head, refusing to settle, refusing to become real.
Did he just…
No, I don’t believe it. There’s no way he just said he loves me.
I tilt my head to look at him, my chest heaving as the pounding against my ribs makes breathing even harder.
A sudden, mirthless laugh rips from my throat. It sounds almost manic and mixes with yet another sob. I put a hand to my mouth. “You...” I choke on my words. “You love me?”
His thumb wipes away another tear streaming down my face. “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it.”
The ache inside my chest shifts into something so overwhelming I don’t know what to do with it. For weeks, I convinced myself everything between us was one-sided. That I’d fallen in love with a man who would never feel the same way.
And all this time, he actually did love me.
Fresh tears flow down my cheeks, but these feel different from before. These don’t sting. They loosen something twisted inside of me.
“I love you too,” I say, letting the words tumble out before the fear has a chance to silence me. “God, I love you so much, Igor. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you. I tried to hate you, but I just couldn’t stop myself from falling for you again.”
“I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head before pressing his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry for hurting you so much.”
“It’s fine,” I whisper with a smile, brushing my tears away with my fingertips. “I have you now, and that matters more than anything else.”
His palm covers my cheek with a gentleness that takes me by surprise. This time there’s no frantic desire or desperation between us. No anger or misunderstanding threatening to rip us apart the moment we separate.
And when he presses his lips against mine, his kiss is gentle enough for me to feel every heartbeat pounding between us.
It’s excruciatingly soft, a slow-burning flame that allows me to feel every single vibration of our heartbeats thrumming against each other.
It feels sacred.
Like a silent vow written in the space between our breaths.
His thumb traces a slow, soothing circle along my jawline, anchoring me to him while his other hand slides into the hair at the nape of my neck.
I part my lips with a quiet sigh and kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my quiet devotion into the intoxicating slide of our lips against each other.
His hands find my face, slide down to the curve of my neck, and move slowly to my shoulders before tracing the line of my spine.
The warmth of his palms through my shirt sends a shiver straight down my back. I cling to him, my fingers sliding into his hair and pulling him closer until there’s no space between our chests.
“Igor,” I breathe against his mouth. “I love you.”
He groans, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “I love you too, baby,” he rasps in a deep, husky tone. “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything else.”
I smile against his lips.
In one fluid motion, he lifts me against him as if I weigh nothing. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, the friction of our bodies sending a sudden, sharp jolt of electricity straight to my core.
He lowers me onto the bed without breaking our kiss and I lean up into him, desperate to relish the warmth of his skin.
Igor hovers over me, stripping away our clothing breathlessly. His eyes don’t leave mine, not even for a moment.
When we’re both naked, he crawls on top of me. Our bare skin meets and the sensation of his chest pressing against mine makes my nipples grow hard.
Fuck.
I unravel when he starts to kiss his way down my jaw, his lips leaving a hot trail in their wake as they trace the sensitive column of my throat and then down to the hollow of my collarbone.
My core pulses when he bites me there lightly. It’s a tiny nip that makes my hips arch off the bed, seeking more of him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against my skin. “God. You’re so perfect, Audrey. So perfect.”
His hands map every inch of me, tracing the curve of my waist and the flare of my hips, leaving fire in their wake. His touch is no longer gentle. It’s hungry and demanding, and when his fingers slip between my thighs, finding me already slick and aching for him, a groan rumbles deep in his throat.
He strokes me slowly, teasing me with the tip of his finger and driving me closer and closer to the edge until I’m writhing beneath his touch, my fingers clutching the sheets.
God, this is too torturous.
My patience is about to snap and I’m hungry to have him inside me, to feel the thickness of him stretching my insides until I’m breathless.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he positions himself between my thighs and braces his weight on his forearms, his eyes locking onto mine with fierce devotion.
My cheeks heat and a flush creeps up my neck. Too embarrassed to look into his eyes, I glance away.
“Look at me,” he murmurs. “I want you to look into my eyes while I make love to you.”
My stomach flutters.
Not fuck.
Make love.
We’re making love, not simply fucking because we’re sexually attracted to each other. That realization makes me want him inside me even more.
I tilt my head, drowning in the depth of his gaze as he slowly pushes inside me. The fullness of him fills the empty, aching void in an instant.
I let out a ragged cry. My hands find his shoulders and my nails dig into his skin as I stretch to accommodate him. He pauses, letting me adjust, and presses his forehead to mine as he lets out a shaky breath.
“It feels so good to be inside you,” he rasps. Then he begins to move, slowly at first, in a deep, sensual rhythm that has me gasping for breath. For more.
Each thrust finds my most sensitive spots, sending waves of intense pleasure rippling through my lower abdomen. Then he goes faster, the heat in the room rising as his thrusts get faster and deeper and sweeter.
My legs wrap tighter around his waist, urging him to go even deeper and faster.
He meets my pace, his breathing against my ear harsh and uneven as his movements become more urgent. The world narrows down to the sliding of his skin against mine, the scent of wood and musk, and the unbearable pleasure building inside me.
My head thrashes against the pillow as the tension grows tighter, a coil of pure electricity ready to snap. His thumb finds my clitoris and circles it. The pressure and the sweet sensation that follows is so intense that I’m screaming with pleasure and my legs shake beyond control.
“Igor, I’m going to…” I gasp, my eyes rolling all the way back as the first wave of climax hits.
“Come on my dick, baby. I want to feel you come,” he growls, his pace accelerating into a relentless, desperate drive.
My body convulses as my release crashes over me, shattering my voice into a high, breathless cry.
As if hearing my release broke his final thread of control, Igor buries himself inside of me and lets out a deep, guttural roar, his body stiffening as his own climax rips through him.
After he empties inside me, he collapses against me, his chest heaving and his heart hammering wildly against my chest. Neither of us moves until I hear the sound of my phone beeping.
I raise my head to look at Igor. “Is that my phone?”
He nods. “I got you a new one and had your data transferred. Don’t worry, I didn’t look through it. I respect your privacy.”
I giggle. I wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t. “Can you pass it to me?”
“Of course.” He kisses the crook of my neck before pushing up and reaching for my phone on the nightstand.
“Thank you,” I say after I take the phone from him. When I open the message, the air in my lungs turns to solid lead. A cold, violent shudder ripples down my spine, leaving me frozen.
It’s a text from Serrano.
Pictures of my mother’s house. And…oh God, no.
Igor’s eyes are on mine, filled with concern. “What is it?”
“It’s Serrano.” A wave of nausea hits me so hard I’m literally gasping for oxygen. “He has my brother.”