Chapter 21 - Wyatt
From across the club, I tell myself I’m fine with the distance between us. Fine with watching her from afar.
Elena laughs with the girls, drink in hand, while she sways to the music, looking the most joyous and carefree I’ve ever seen her.
As hard as I’ve tried to give her what she needs and deserves, I know I can’t bring her this kind of familiar ease.
The kind of fun that can only be had with her circle. I’d be delusional to think I could.
But when the lights catch in her hair, and the sea of people around her swallows her up, she looks like she belongs here. Untouched, unburdened, and completely unafraid. She looks at home in the kind of environment I don’t frequent often enough.
Despite all my self-assured ways, something about that makes me feel inadequate in ways.
I prefer the quiet, still, predictable motions that come with being at home. After handling what I need to get done, I’d rather relax and enjoy what I can of limited peace. In that sense, I’m boring, and I won’t deny it.
Compared to the life she has known, my habits are like being splashed with cold water. Seeing her in her element here makes me question if I’ve been selfish beyond measure for bringing her into my orbit.
When I see the other guys lingering nearby, an annoying voice reminds me that they’re closer to her speed, and that only makes the urge to go grab her even worse.
Tearing my eyes away before those thoughts can get out of control, I force them down.
They might be closer to her in age and lifestyle, but they don’t have her like I do. If she hasn’t gone back running and screaming for her family, then obviously I have something worth sticking around for.
That helps settle my nerves enough to keep my cool.
Roman leans back in his seat as he brings a glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip without looking away from me.
Mikhail, Sergey, Ivan, and Nikolai lounge around too, alternating between drinking, watching the dancers, and studying me.
They aren’t subtle in the slightest, and they apparently don’t care to be.
It’s just my luck that Elena would have this many brothers…all for me to contend with.
The pounding music punctuates the grating silence, and for a moment, I start to wonder if this is a quiet test. If they’re waiting for me to speak first.
Then, Roman nods towards me, voice breaking through both the noise and the painful anticipation between us. “You must’ve heard from the Grimaldis.”
The claim catches me off guard, and my brows pinch slightly. “What makes you say that?”
“You look prepared to snap,” he muses, apparently finding some amusement in using this unfortunate power struggle against me. “…and we picked up on some of their movement. They seemed to be hauling something.”
Another cold front threatens to move through me at the mention of it, but as I remind myself that being open about these things with them will benefit me more than not, I push it away.
“It was likely a body,” I say bluntly, watching the way surprise threads within their features. “They sent me an execution video. More specifically, of the man who abducted Elena, Vito.”
There’s no point pretending otherwise, especially not when I finally have someone else on my side. Tentatively, anyway.
With Lukov forces bolstering me now, it’s the most defence I’ve ever had, yet I still don’t let myself lean on it too much.
Nikolai scoffs at that with immediate recognition, grip tightening around his glass. “That prick.”
“He’s a greasy one. Always dodging exactly what he deserves,” Ivan adds, just as bitter. Then he shrugs, murmuring a correction, “Or he was, anyway. It’s no skin off our backs now.”
I glance over at Roman. “You know who he is, then?”
He nods, lip curling slightly at the mention.
“Not closely, but we know enough. He’d sell anything and everything as long as the price was right.
With no real allegiance to anyone, he was a cheat and a snake, but I suppose now we don’t have to worry about him.
But why execute him, and why send it to you? ”
“Because Vito was the starting part of my revenge, and they knew it. He screwed them by handing Elena over to me, so killing him was inevitable. But they used my real name,” I tell them, taking in their more attentive looks now.
“They didn’t know who their target was before, but now they do,” Mikhail concludes.
I nod, leaning back as I cradle my glass in both hands above my lap. “It was a warning.”
“And now, they don’t just want you as a dead rival,” Roman says, tone edged with something more serious. “They know you have Elena, and that means something.”
The notion hangs in the air between us, and it makes my jaw tighten.
When I don’t respond, Roman seems to pick up on it, and his gaze slides past me to where Elena dances with the girls, so carefree and bright. Then he looks back at me, and his expression hardens.
“If my sister is in everyone’s sights, then I need you to make sure she’s safe above all else.”
Meeting his eyes, I don’t hesitate. I don’t have to. “She is safe.”
“You say that,” Roman murmurs, leaning forward just enough to be intimidating. “But she’s standing in the middle of something that will get ugly without question. If the Grimaldis and Balakins both want her, then she’s in more danger than she ever has been.”
I bristle. “And you think I don’t know that?”
“I think you’re used to operating on your own, riding on anonymity and getting lucky because of it.
You’ve been looking after yourself for years, but now, it isn’t just about you, Wyatt,” he says carefully, not exactly unkind, but not trying to spare my feelings either.
Surely a man like him doesn’t need to. “If anything happens to Elena due to this overconfidence of yours, I will cut you so deeply that you’ll feel it in your next life. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
There it is, as expected. The doubt.
His lack of faith in me needles me more than I appreciate. I’ve built my empire from nothing. I survived assassination attempts and betrayals; I crawled my way out of exile. I kept Elena alive through the fallout of Vito abducting her, and now, I’m being spoken to like a naive boy.
As much as it irritates me, I can’t exactly blame him. If I were in his position, I’d be pissed. Hell, I somewhat am due to Mikhail marrying my sister, but he isn’t the one on trial here, and Lily isn’t being eyed by other notorious families.
So I take a discreet breath and return with all the conviction I have. “I understand. Her life is above my own.”
“Good,” Roman mutters after a moment, still eyeing me suspiciously before he relaxes again.
“Because I need you to multitask. Protect our sister and figure out an angle to take the Grimaldis down. I won’t go in blind and risk my men when they’re after your hide…
so I suggest you find something we can work with. ”
His tone is grating, but I swallow my pride. “The Grimaldis don’t know I’m aligned with you. They think I’m flying solo…that’s our advantage.”
Mikhail lifts an assessing brow. “And you plan to use Elena as bait?”
“No,” I return, firm and final as sparks of anger move through me at the mention of it. “She won’t be anywhere near it. She has seen enough.”
Roman’s head tilts to the side. “You’re making big promises.”
“And I mean to follow through on them.”
They exchange their glances, and I know they don’t entirely like this arrangement. They hate it, but Lily and Elena matter to them.
Then, the pakhan sighs. “So long as you watch your step, we’ll move against the Grimaldis together. We’ll do it quietly, and with no unnecessary blood.”
“Our definitions of ‘necessary’ might be different,” I murmur.
While I don’t lust for blood, the Grimaldis have been nothing but a problem for me for some time, and now, it’s more personal. If they’re willing to throw their men at us like cannon fodder, then I won’t feel too guilty about wasting them.
Roman gives me a look that says, "We’ll see," and he leaves it at that.
As the conversation winds down and understanding settles heavily between us, I finally excuse myself. With my eyes immediately on Elena, I can’t take the distance anymore.
She’s still dancing and smiling, unaware of the troubled thoughts moving through me, both at her brothers’ doubts and the very idea of anyone thinking they can take what they want from me.
I don’t think as I cross the room, but soon enough, she sees me coming just as I reach her. She looks surprised, especially as I reach down to gently hold her forearm.
“Dance with me.”
Even more caught off guard, she takes a moment, glancing at the girls briefly before looking back at me. Something unreadable crosses her features before she nods, slipping into something more receptive.
With ease, I guide her deeper into the crowd, giving us whatever privacy I can manage here. Pulling her close, her body fits against mine so perfectly that the anger in me fizzles away without protest.
My hands settle at her waist, sliding slowly along her body as her back presses to my chest, stirring such a primal satisfaction in me. Elena stiffens initially, only to melt into the rhythm when I don’t push her further.
The smell of her perfume, along with that unique scent of hers, hits me at once, and I can’t resist the urge to dip forward and brush my nose against her neck.
Even if she goes with it, I can still sense her lingering questions.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, very clearly seeking out more of her in whatever way I can.
Elena turns, facing me instead with concern etched in her features. “You don’t seem fine.”
I know I’m letting my need for her get the better of me, so I force a small grin and lean forward, lips near her ear as my hands slide back to her hips. “You don’t need to worry about anything. Just enjoy the night.”
Despite not looking convinced at first, she nods anyway, and with enough trust in me, she doesn’t pull back.
As the song changes, I move with her, guiding her hips in suggestion. Every brush of her body against mine sends more warmth up my spine, and every breath she takes feels like it belongs only to me.
It’s a dangerous thought, especially paired with the way she moves against me like this is perfectly normal for us. For a moment, I want it to be. If I could spend the rest of my life like this, feeling her on me and being at the centre of her attention, I’d die blissfully.
Letting myself go, I touch her as much as I can without crossing any boundaries.
The fire in me rises all over again, thanks to the hypnotic way she dances, willingly keeping me in this tantalising bubble.
I try to keep it down, but the second she grinds back against me, slowly, agonizingly, I can’t take it.
I squeeze her waist, holding her there for a beat before I murmur against her neck, “I need you.”
Elena glances back at me again, and the flash of interest in her eyes doesn’t escape me. She looks me over, and I already know her mind is in the same place as mine. “Are you saying you want to leave?”
“No,” I murmur, bringing my face closer to hers until we’re exchanging breath again. “Not yet…I can’t wait until we’re home.”
Her brows raise at that, catching on quicker than expected. “What, right here?”
“No,” I repeat, this time with a vaguely amused breath. I slide my hand down to hers, gently threading our fingers together. “If you want this, then come with me.”
Elena hesitates just long enough to make me wait, then a familiar resolve settles in her gaze. Her nod is all I need to see.
Lightly pulling her along, I guide her through the crowd, not caring who sees us. I can’t care when I’m already straining against my zipper.
Slipping away from the public and into the back rooms, I keep my steps quick, but not too fast for her. The moment we reach one of the spare spaces with a similar dark interior to match the rest of the club, I barely get the door shut before I’m on her.
My lips find her neck as I memorise every inch of her curves, damning the dress still covering her.
A soft sound escapes her as she leans into the affection, melting before she swallows hard. Her words come out soft and surprisingly vulnerable. “Is this all you want for us? Hooking up?”
I stop immediately, meeting her gaze again with confusion spreading through me. “Hooking up?”
“Don’t be obtuse,” she murmurs. “I get it if this is all you want, but I can’t—”
“All I want…” I interject gently with a quiet scoff. “You really think this is all I want from you?”
Elena averts her gaze in a rare display of embarrassment, managing a weak shrug.
“Elena,” I say, carefully cupping her jaw to make her look at me while I barely resist the urge to kiss her again until she gets it.
My lips hover over hers. “I only pulled you in here because I can’t stand how badly I need you.
All of you. Not just your body, and not for anything mindless. You’re killing me.”
At that, her eyes soften, searching mine for any trace of a lie. “You mean it?”
“More than anything. This has never been about hooking up for me.”
Something passes through her features at the words, as if it has finally come loose inside her, and her shoulders relax. She looks me over again, and her lips pull. “Good answer.”
Smiling back despite myself, I take that as my cue.
I should be patient and restrained, but after everything, I need her. I need to feel her.
Elena’s back hits the wall with just enough force to make her breath catch, then my mouth is on hers with a hunger I didn’t know I possessed. Her fingers clutch my jacket immediately, and without any protest, she kisses me right back.
Nothing about this is gentle. It’s all unbridled desire and claiming, and throughout, I make sure she knows she’s wanted. That if one thing is true about all of this, it’s that I have chosen her. She is the one I want.
And as her fingers glide through my hair, matching my eagerness, I swear to myself that no matter what it costs me, and no matter who tries, nobody will take her from me.