Chapter 15 - Anton
She’s teaching me something about life that I haven’t ever had the chance to learn, or I was never given the opportunity to understand.
She’s changed the way I experience the small moments. She’s illuminated my life and shines like a light, making each day more beautiful.
Something as simple as making breakfast is suddenly something fun and filled with laughter.
Things like sitting on a bench doing nothing at all out near the harbor—in the past, it was where I went to plot or think or plan my next move. But with her, I was just in the moment, not worried about anything at all.
When she’s at my side, the entire world comes to a stop, and all that matters is enjoying that single breath of time.
Being number one doesn’t matter. Having the most power doesn’t matter. Status, money, business, growing clients, reaching further, being stronger, and overpowering my enemies or getting revenge…none of it means a damn thing suddenly.
It’s like my whole life, I’ve had these blinders on, and now, in a flash, they’ve been removed, and I can see what life is really about.
It’s about connection.
In fact, everything that came before her is somehow meaningless. Like it was all just in preparation for the day I found her.
I’m on my way back from work, and already I’m smiling as I near the mansion.
I wonder what she’s doing. She’ll tell me about her day or the new book she’s reading.
She’ll show me her latest drawing, or I’ll find her in the kitchen trying to cook up something she’s never tried before.
She might be rearranging the artwork or the living room furniture.
With her, it’s impossible to guess, actually.
It could be something normal, or something totally out of the blue.
It’s one of the things I love about her, being so unpredictable.
I park the car and my smile grows wider as I climb out and take the steps up to the front door two at a time. Pushing the door open, I call her name.
“Iz?” I call out into the house.
The first place I check is the living room. Usually, she has a fire going already, but it’s cold and empty this evening.
“Iz?” I call again, and hear a faint reply from upstairs.
Jogging up the stairs, I head to her room, which is strange, because she’s been sleeping in my room lately.
“Hey, you, what are you doing in here?” I ask, immediately worried when I walk in and find her in bed with the lights off. “Are you tired?” I say, sitting on the edge of her bed.
She groans and rolls towards me. “I’m not feeling that great,” she grumbles.
I flick on the bedside light and notice how pale she is.
“Are you sick?” I ask, reaching out to touch my hand to her forehead. She isn’t running a fever, but she looks exhausted and drained.
“I haven’t been able to keep anything down,” she says quietly.
“Oh no, that’s horrible, why didn’t you have the guys call me? I would have come home!” I scold her, lying down on the bed next to her and pulling her into my arms.
She hides her face against my chest and lets out a strained breath.
“It’s okay, I’m here now. Do I need to get you something? Meds? Tea? Maybe we can try a slice of plain toast or salted chips if you want to try eating something?”
She shakes her head, still buried against my chest. I stroke my hand down the back of her head, letting my fingers thread through her silky strands of hair.
“Little pixie, what do you need? Anything at all?”
“Do we still have ginger?” she asks weakly.
“I think we might. And if we don’t, I’ll send someone out to get it right away. Do you want tea?”
“Ginger and peppermint, please,” she mumbles.
“And food?”
“Let’s try tea first.”
Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “I’ll be right back.”
The ginger isn’t as fresh as I want it, and I have nothing resembling peppermint, so I send someone out to the store for me. I also have them bring back salted crackers, salted chips and fresh bread from the bakery.
It’s not the healthiest food. But sometimes you just need to try and get something in your stomach to settle the bug.
Instead of taking everything back to her room, I set it all up in my room. I push the remote to call the LCD screen down from where it slots into the ceiling, and I pull up Netflix so we can choose a movie.
Then I go through to her room to fetch her.
She complains when I scoop her out of bed.
“No, I want to stay in bed,” she grumbles.
“You can, but this isn’t your bed.”
“Anton, I might make you sick if I sleep in your room,” she huffs.
“It’s worth the risk. I can’t keep my eye on you if you aren’t right next to me,” I tell her.
She doesn’t complain again, perhaps because she doesn’t have the energy.
Perhaps because she wants to be close to me just as much as I want her at my side.
That night, we snuggle in bed together. I pick the movies because she spends most of the time asleep on my chest. When she wakes up after her tea has had some time to settle her stomach, she eats salted chips and then falls asleep again.
All night, I watch over her, holding her close. When she shifts or mumbles in her sleep, I wake up immediately to make sure she’s okay.
“You’re safe with me, little pixie,” I whisper against her hair. “I’ll always take care of you.”
In the morning, Izabel has color back in her face and looks much happier.
“Morning, pixie, how are you feeling? You look a lot stronger,” I say, brushing my fingers over her cheek.
She sits up in bed, and I do the same. Her hair is a wild mess, and she looks as cute as ever.
“Oh, my goodness, it must have been a twenty-four-hour bug,” she says thoughtfully to herself. “Last night feels like a fever dream,” she says, looking up at me. “Did you even eat dinner?”
“I didn’t. I didn’t want to eat near you in case the smell of the food upset you,” I explain.
“Anton! You must be starving!” she says, annoyed with me. Then she cocks her head to the side and scrunches her nose. “Actually, I’m starving,” she giggles.
“I guess you are feeling better, then,” I chuckle. “Shall we go make breakfast, or do you want to relax, and I’ll bring it up to you in bed?”
“Oh no, I spent enough time in bed yesterday, thank you very much.”
She jumps out of bed, and I have to hurry to catch up with her as she goes downstairs to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, I grin at her sheepishly while I stand in front of the tall kitchen cabinet.
“Why do you look like you’re up to something?” she asks, grinning back at me.
I pull the cupboard open and let her see the several boxes of Froot Loops I had them stock for me yesterday.
“Froot Loops! Are you serious? I didn’t even know they still made them!” she says excitedly.
I chuckle as I pull one of the boxes out and set it on the counter next to her breakfast bowl.
“Milk and sugar?” I ask.
Instead of answering me, she reaches out to grab the corner of my T-shirt and pulls me into her arms, slipping them around my waist. “Thank you,” she whispers, looking up at me.
“I wanted you to have your favorite breakfast,” I muse.
“No, not just that. Last night also. You didn’t have to do that for me. Thank you for taking care of me like that,” she says, standing up on her tiptoes. My heart flips when she presses her lips against mine, and her fingers cling to my T-shirt.
I slide my hand up the back of her head and deepen the kiss.
My pixie.
My sweet, wild little pixie.
***
Over the next few days, I avoid going into the office. Instead, I opt to work from home, just in case she needs me.
Strangely, though, Izabel is acting differently.
When I go look for her, I always find her sort of hiding in some corner. Sitting in the far chair in the library, or back in her own room, drawing on her bed.
Every time I ask her if she’s okay, I get the same answer.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re very quiet lately,” I explain.
“No, I’m not. I’m just reading,” she says, holding up her book as evidence.
Not wanting to push the matter, I leave her for a bit. Maybe she needs some space. Maybe she’s still a little sick.
But on the third day, when I find her in the kitchen quietly making tea at lunchtime and hardly speaking to me at all, I start to get really worried.
“Hey, little pixie, tell me what’s going on. You’ve hardly said anything these past few days, and I’m missing all the chatter,” I tease her. “It’s far too quiet in the house at the moment,” I add, slipping my arms around her waist and forcing her to look at me.
She smiles tightly.
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I think I just need to get out a bit. Maybe it’s cabin fever. I feel like walking around the mall or something.”
“You’re restless? That’s easy to solve! I’ll take you to the mall right now. Go get ready,” I tell her, kissing her forehead.
She stammers, biting at her lip.
Just as I’m about to ask her what’s wrong, my phone rings.
I groan, reaching into my back pocket.
“I’ll be two seconds. You can go get ready in the meantime,” I tell her.
She stands in the kitchen, though, finishing with her tea while I answer the phone.
“Anton here,” I say professionally.
My heart pounds heavier when I realize who is on the other side of the call. Killian Popov. A man I have been trying to get into an alliance with for a very long time.
“Anton, it’s Killian. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back to you. I wanted to know if you were available to meet me now for a quick lunch?”
“Now?” I ask, glancing at Izabel. I want to take her out, but this meeting has been almost impossible to get. Between both of our schedules, we struggled to even set a time to speak on the phone.
“Yes, I had a flight delay and I have a few hours. So, yes, it would have to be right now,” he says.
I can’t ignore this opportunity. Not with the walls closing in with Josiah right on my ass and even the smaller Bratva groups thinking I’m looking weak enough that they can take a chance attacking me.
This meeting equates to protection. Alliances are strengthening, and I need all the strength I can get to keep Izabel safe.
“I can meet you now,” I answer, hiding the disappointment I feel inside because I have to let Izabel down.
We make the arrangements for the meeting and I end the call.
“Pixie, I’m so sorry, I have to go to this meeting. This is really important.”
“It’s okay, but I still want to go shopping. I could take a guard. I wouldn’t even be gone that long,” she says.
My heart constricts. My first instinct is to say no. To immediately have my thoughts spike with the fear of her trying to escape.
But the fear doesn’t come, and it brings a smile to my face.
I trust her!
What a strange thought.
I trust her not to try to leave. I trust her to listen to the guard. I trust that when I come home later today, she will be here waiting for me after an afternoon of shopping.
“You’ll listen to the guard?” I say sternly, raising my brows at her.
“I will,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up.
Pulling my wallet out, I hand her my black card. “Here, you’ll need this.”
“I can use my own money,” she argues, "you just need to give me my purse."
“No, you can’t. That is your brother’s money. I am your husband. I am the one who takes care of you now,” I say sternly.
“Is that so?” she muses, grinning up at me. “I’m very expensive, you know,” she says, teasing me.
“I think I’ll manage,” I laugh.
She takes my card and gently kisses my cheek. I grab her jaw in my hand and pull her face forward, kissing her lips instead.
“Thank you,” she giggles against my mouth. “I really need to get out for a bit, so I really appreciate it.”
“Have fun, and when you get home later, you can give me a fashion show and model everything you got?”
“It might be difficult to model it if all I decide to get are some books or art supplies,” she laughs.
“Oh, I’d love to see you model nothing but a book,” I growl huskily.
“I’ll see you later,” she says, her eyes glimmering with mischief. “Maybe we can get Chinese for dinner?”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll pick it up on the way home.”
She turns to walk away from me, and I can’t resist the urge to slap her ass.
When she leaves the kitchen to get ready, my heart feels light and at ease. It’s incredible to be able to trust her with this. It feels amazing.
I pull my thoughts off Izabel and onto my meeting for the afternoon. It’s one I’ve been waiting for a while.