Chapter 15 - Ivan
I don’t know what’s been happening lately, but I blame it on Mila.
The late afternoon light catches in her hair, making it look even softer and more golden than usual, while she sits in the living room.
She’s cross-legged with the new music books I ordered for her in hand, brows pinched lightly while she concentrates.
She’s been quiet and fully immersed, and hasn’t had much time to hate me, which is more of a relief than I expected.
A week ago, I would’ve told myself this was temporary and that I’d eventually grow bored with this indulgence, like usual. Two weeks ago, I would’ve claimed that neither of us would change. But now, I’m enjoying this more than I have any right to.
With more acceptance from Mila, the condo feels more lived in. She still argues with me over stupid things, like music volume, what’s for dinner, and if I’m capable of showing a full range of emotions, but there’s less of an edge to those moments.
She’s softening, slowly and cautiously, but she is, whether she knows it or not. She’s been less like a skittish animal and more like a genuine housemate.
I shouldn’t find anything appealing in that, and I shouldn’t take satisfaction in the way she looks at me longer than necessary when she thinks I don’t notice, but I do.
Annoyingly, I want more of it. The good and the bad.
When it’s almost too quiet, I glance over at Mila. “You’re thinking too loud.”
She throws me an unimpressed look in response, still vaguely sharp but more humored than anything. “I could be louder.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
“I’m tempted to grab my violin right now and play it off-key right next to you,” she taunts, allowing a hint of mischief to flood her features.
“How evil of you,” I muse, grinning to myself. “I think I’m a bad influence.”
“Don’t take credit for it.”
Holding her gaze, I drink in her features while I focus on the warmth in my chest. I don’t know how she does it…how she makes all of this feel so normal and easy.
I’m not supposed to have this. This kind of comfort and connection isn’t meant for someone like me, especially not after what I’ve done.
For a moment, I’m tempted to push my luck and move a bit closer, until my phone rings.
The sound cuts through the peace between us like a traitorous thing, and I have half the mind to throw it across the room with the hope it shatters.
Mila stiffens a bit, then returns her focus to her books.
With the opportunity lost, I sigh and glance down at the screen to see Wyatt’s name. He’s lucky he’s family now.
“I’ll be back,” I murmur, grabbing the phone and heading towards the kitchen. I accept the call and remind myself to focus. “What do you have for me?”
“A problem,” Wyatt says without missing a beat.
“Define that.”
“You were seen out in public with Mila a bit ago. On the Strip. A Grimaldi associate clocked you in the crowd and passed it up the chain,” he answers, not sugar-coating anything now. “Now they know with certainty that a Lukov has their sister. Ergo, problem.”
I still as the information reaches me, and I catch myself glancing at Mila again. She’s still looking at the music sheets, but I have the feeling she’s vaguely listening.
Being seen with her wasn’t much of a concern for me, especially not out in a busy area, but I can only guess there’s more to it than just that. He wouldn’t be calling me if it weren’t the case.
I sigh. “What have they done?”
“Two scheduled shipments were compromised half an hour apart. It was nothing catastrophic, but it’s enough of a message, and Roman has some choice words for you. He wants you there…I’ll send you the location.”
Closing my eyes briefly, I can already hear his voice in my mind. This is what I’ve been dreading, but now I have no choice but to face it head-on.
“Perfect,” I mutter sardonically, running a hand over my face with a forced breath. “I’m on my way.”
“Wise choice.”
After hanging up, I step back into the living room, and Mila glances at me immediately.
“Are you leaving?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m needed at work.”
She studies me, and I can see the gears turning in her head, like she’s trying to understand as much of this as she can. “That’s vague.”
“As it should be.”
After some consideration, Mila stands and faces me. “Does this have anything to do with me?”
My first instinct is to confirm it, but I know better than that. Instead, I hesitate, and it doesn’t slip her attention.
Her expression hardens fractionally. “Ivan.”
“You don’t need to worry about any of this,” I tell her, both not ready to dive into the details with her or to burden her with the truth. She’s not supposed to be involved, even if a small part of me wants to keep her in the loop. “I’ll be back. Order something in if you want.”
“I’m not an idiot,” she mutters, not giving this up like I want her to. “I know you’ve been bracing yourself for what my brothers might do. If they’ve done something, you don’t need to hide it from me.”
Stepping closer, I give her a firm look. “What I need you to do is stay here and not ask questions, Mila. This doesn’t concern you.”
“If it has to do with my family, then it does concern me.”
She’s right, but I can’t let her know that.
“I have to go. Don’t wait up for me,” I murmur, turning before I let those eyes melt me into admitting that things aren’t as solid behind the scenes as I’ve been letting on.
“You said you wouldn’t lie to me anymore,” Mila calls to me as I approach the door, standing there with her arms crossed and her lips in a thin line. “You’re lying by omission.”
Grabbing my keys, I keep going anyway as I reach the front. “I’m doing it to keep you safe.”
I catch her forced exhale, and just before I can close the door behind me, she mutters, “Be careful.”
The two words surprise me, and for a beat, I almost turn around again. I almost haul my ass back in there to kiss her hard like I’ve been wanting to for the past week, but I don’t.
Instead, I give the faintest nod before leaving, making sure the door’s secure before I go.
I’m not ready to acknowledge how big those little words truly are.
***
It doesn’t take long for me to find the wreckage of the first shipment, along with a small fleet of our men busy taking care of it before too much attention is drawn to it.
The inventory not taken is already hooked up to a different truck and hauled back to one of the warehouses, while the original cab is being assessed for damage.
From what I can tell, the truck was hit, and the driver killed, staged to look like a collision, but the Grimaldis didn’t rob us blind, at least. Though enough was taken for Roman to be fuming by the time I reached the warehouse.
He’s leaning against his desk, arms crossed, when I walk in. Nikolai and Mikhail are there on the couch, and all three sets of eyes land on me without hesitation.
“You were sloppy,” Roman mutters, eyes hard.
“I was seen. That’s it.”
“Yes, seen in public, where Grimaldi men tend to be at times. And now, we’re short on inventory and profits.”
“I’m aware,” I murmur, closing the office door and leaning back against it. “I saw the truck on the way here.”
“You revealed your hand,” Nikolai adds, checking through feeds again on one of the tablets.
“They would’ve found out eventually anyway. It’s not like I can keep her stuck inside all day like a houseplant.”
Roman’s eyes narrow. “You accelerated it. You gave them a reason to strike.”
“God forbid I let her breathe for one afternoon.”
“One afternoon cost us, which is why the damages are coming out of your cut,” he says firmly, leaving no room for argument. “You made this mess, and now the Grimaldis are testing us. Testing you.”
“Again, I’m aware,” I mumble, feeling that familiar irritation bubbles up inside me once more. It happens easily where Mila is concerned.
“That leaves us with one question,” Roman begins, shoulders squared as he stands a bit straighter, not letting his focus waver from me. “…What do you plan on doing about it? Obviously, you didn’t listen to me the last time we discussed this.”
They all look at me again, and I play it cool as I cross my arms. “I’m handling it.”
“How?” Mikhail asks, looking far too aware of the fact that I’m still riding on borrowed time.
When I don’t answer, Roman’s jaw tightens, and his words come out rougher. “You don’t get to be quiet about this now. Tell us all about your master plan.”
Tension courses through me as I stand my ground, trying harder than anything to not give myself up or to show weakness here. That’s exactly what my brothers are trying to sniff out.
“I don’t have my final move yet, but as long as Mila is with me, the Grimaldis don’t have anything.”
“Don’t they?” Roman returns. “Even without their sister, they attacked. You’re lucky it wasn’t as devastating as it could’ve been, especially with Maksim and the Balakins in the wings.” He studies me, and after a beat, he utters, “You’re stalling.”
“I’m thinking, not stalling,” I retort, finding it harder not to lash out like I want to.
He scoffs. “Since when do you think this long?”
Since I met Mila, but I don’t say it out loud.
“You can’t keep her in this limbo without making a move,” Mikhail says while sitting casually in his place, arm draped over the back of the couch. “Your three options are marriage, exchange, or relocation. Pick one.”
My stomach tightens as my mind flits over each one of those suggestions, and each one carries a different kind of weight. It doesn’t help that they’re talking about it so simply, as if she weren’t a person. As if she has no significance.
“I’m not forcing her to marry me,” I tell them, glancing between my brothers.
“Then remove her from the board like you said you would. Send her somewhere safe,” Roman presses, certainly stuck in his decision.
As much as forcing marriage between us stings, the thought of sending her away feels more like a bullet wound. There’s no goddamn way.
“No,” I say before I can stop myself, rippling with irritation.
They stare at me for a moment, then Mikhail sighs. “Your judgement is compromised, Ivan.”
I chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about it. “No kidding. That’s exactly why I won’t do it.”
Roman steps closer, tone low and full of warning. “This will end one way or another. Decide which side you’re on before it’s decided for you.”
With no solution, Roman pushes past me, leaving the office without another word. The other two follow at their leisure, giving me looks that tell me everything I need to know.
Nikolai sighs and claps a hand on my shoulder.
“Good luck.”