Chapter 5 - Ivan
I’ve always considered myself fortunate, though not necessarily lucky. But if this isn’t luck, then I don’t know what is.
Mila is here, in my condo, under my roof, just like she was always meant to be.
The reality of it hits me again and again, each time an even bigger wave than the last.
I’ve surveilled men before. I’ve tracked families, monitored enemies, and studied them until I knew the rhythm of their everyday lives even better than they did. It’s a necessary part of the job, to the point where it almost becomes clinical.
But this luck is so obscene that it’s more like divine intervention than anything else. And that’s a bold statement coming from me.
Not only is Mila here, alive and safe, but she always crossed my path on her own accord. She ran right by me like some part of her knew I’d step in.
Wyatt is going to lose it when I tell him, for better or worse.
The leverage alone is priceless. She’s Carlo and Cesare’s only feasible angle from what I can tell, and she’s with me, just out of their reach.
Yet, she’s something tangible I can point to whenever my brothers inevitably ask why I’m pulling my punches.
Because, as much as I don’t want to concede, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
I know Roman, and I know he’ll need answers, so that’s what I’ll tell him.
This is strategy, even if I can’t bring myself to pull away from her.
Given the way Mila looks at me like I’m just a ghost and not made of flesh and bone, she knows me. Or, she likely just knows my name, and something about that strokes my ego all the same.
The fear is obvious in her eyes, yet she isn’t completely shrinking away. She’s putting on a brave face, and from what I can glean, she wants answers.
“This is a mistake,” she murmurs, pulling me out of my thoughts and diffusing that assumption immediately.
“No,” I say a touch faster than necessary. “Running back to them would be a mistake.”
A flicker of irritation moves through her features, as if she wants to retort something but knows I’m right and comes up short. She huffs out a hard breath and stands. “Two things can be true at the same time.”
Leaning back, I watch as she paces the length of the living room like she can’t stand being in her skin right now. Those quick, restless steps would be amusing to me in a different context, but right now, I have to focus.
“They were going to marry me off like it was nothing,” Mila blurts out as she takes another pass across the floor, shoulders tensing. “That’s why I ran.”
My focus narrows in on that fact, and my jaw tightens. That, I didn’t know, even if I had an inclination. “Did they say who they had in mind?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, stopping to gesture vaguely. “Someone named Max…Maksim Balakin, or something.”
The name hits with the same impact as a bullet right between the ribs, and I freeze. Everything in me goes entirely still while I process the name.
It’s the second half that catches me more than anything. I don’t know who the hell Maksim is, but if he’s the same kind of Balakin that we’ve been trying to take down for years now, then that’s something to put a pin in.
“Cesare said it would be beneficial, like I should be grateful for the opportunity,” Mila says, continuing to talk like she’s finally getting the chance to ramble to someone who might understand.
“I don’t even know him. I don’t know anything about him except that he’s supposed to help them with the Lukov problem… or, your family, I guess.”
I’m listening to her, yet the rage in my chest coils up and burns too hot for me to ignore.
Maksim Balakin.
Whoever this person is, her brothers are under the impression that he can somehow help them get rid of us. I can’t tell if they truly are that mistaken, or if this Maksim managed to convince them of his apparent influence to such a far-fetched degree.
Forcing my expression to remain as neutral as possible, my head is anything but neutral as the pieces come together with an irritating amount of clarity.
This must be what they’ve been working up to during all these months. They’ve been keeping to themselves, and now, they really are preparing to use Mila as their trump card. And depending on how significant Maksim is, an alliance between him and the Grimaldis could shift everything.
Maksim wants her, and that thought makes my vision go red at the edges.
“They said it would protect me, and that it’s for my own good,” she continues, tone both bitter and disbelieving. “I just want to live my life. To play music and sing…is that really so much to ask for?”
Her pacing finally stops as she looks at me, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, as if her world is moments away from falling apart. “I don’t want any of this, but I don’t know where else to go, or what I’m supposed to do.”
Something about the desperation in her eyes, along with just how lost she seems, has me wanting to rage. Though not at her.
Slowly and deliberately, I stand, giving myself the chance to leash the longing for violence under my skin before it scares her.
“Maksim isn’t going to touch you.”
Mila looks at me a bit confused, and her brows knit together.
“He doesn’t get to marry you, either,” I say, both low and entirely confident. “It’s not happening.”
“How do you know that?” She asks, seemingly torn between wanting to believe me and not wanting to give me that satisfaction. “You don’t know what they’ll do to make it happen.”
“I know what men like Maksim and your brothers are capable of. I’m not concerned.”
Mila’s eyes harden, seemingly catching on to the fact that I’m inserting myself in this situation even if I shouldn’t. “You don’t get to decide either.”
Taking a step closer, I’m a bit surprised when she doesn’t retreat, but I catch the slight ripple of tension in her. “You’re staying here.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Mila shakes her head like she’s trying to push me out. “You can’t keep me here…you said you’d let me go whenever I say so.”
I huff through my nose. “That was before I knew they were planning to marry you off.”
She blinks back at me in disbelief, as if I struck her. “So what, then? You think I just belong to you now?”
Even hearing that sends a thrill down my spine, but I keep it in. Instead, I lean a bit closer, looking down at her. “You’re under my protection. I never said anything about owning you, as tempting as that is.”
Her expression shifts into an incredulous one, and she scoffs. “And if I don’t want your protection?”
“It’s either that, or the alternative,” I state calmly, unruffled. “If you’d prefer to go back to your brothers, to be forced into an engagement you don’t want, and a lifetime of being watched, traded, and used—”
“Stop it,” she cuts in, shoulders dropping as her words quiet into something more dejected. “I get it. And no, I don’t want to go back.”
The fight drains out of her in real time, replaced by a grim understanding she can’t bury as much as she surely wants to. I know she hates that I’m right, but it’s inevitable.
“There it is,” I murmur, not exactly garnering satisfaction in her defeat, but the fact that she knows this is safer than being with her brothers.
Mila looks away and forces out a breath, letting more honesty wrap around her words. “I just wanted an escape.”
“And you have it. For now, we lay low while I figure out what else Maksim is planning.”
She crosses her arms and throws me a vaguely irritated look. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It won’t be, but that’s how most things go.”
Studying me for a long moment, wariness creeps in to ruin the place of relative acceptance I’ve brought her to. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“The ‘lay low’ part mostly applies to you,” I murmur, eyeing her. “You stay here, rest, and don’t attempt to contact your family.”
“And if I do?”
“Then you’ll regret it, and not just for disobeying me.”
Something about that catches her attention, but she schools her features as quickly as possible. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“And I don’t appreciate how you’re pushing, yet here we are.”
That’s a bit of a lie, but I’m not letting her know that.
Really, I like how she’s questioning me and trying to calculate what I’m all about. More than that, I’m enjoying that she’s here with me and not them. That she chose her escape instead of obedience, even if she doesn’t entirely know what she’s doing.
I like how hard and fast Maksim’s plans just collided with my own, and how I can use this to my advantage. Though I have the feeling she isn’t going to make this easy for me, as much as I’d prefer it.
“I won’t stay here forever, and I hope you’re prepared for that.”
The slight challenge wrapped around those words makes my lips pull just enough to be noticeable. “Then we’ll talk about it, just not right now.”
It’s not a promise, but it’s also not an outright refusal either. I’m a man of my word; I just haven’t explicitly given it yet.
Mila watches me for a long moment, still gauging me. “You might’ve helped me back there, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t,” I return, testing her with my gaze. “Not so easily, anyway. That’s a better instinct than blindly getting into a stranger’s car without a second thought.”
Her expression darkens then, not at all humored by the callback. Still, it makes me grin to myself.
Really, I should keep my guard up, too. Everything about this is reckless and already too personal, yet I’ve never been more certain about a single decision in my life.
Mila is staying with me, and anyone who tries to get in the way of that will bleed, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.