Chapter 17 - Ivan
It’s been a while since I pulled out the cufflinks, but for whatever reason, tonight seemed like the right time.
I adjust them for the third time since I sat down, glancing down at my watch far too often to be casual at this point. Telling myself I’m just being vigilant, I glance at the exits, then back to the stage again. I’m managing risks, obviously.
Mila being out in the open is immediate exposure, and despite vetting every single person in the crowd beforehand, just to be extra safe, I know this is still erring on the side of reckless.
Though the lies I tell myself are flimsy at best.
More than anything, I want Mila to step out and shine just like she did all those other times. I want her to have this, even if I’m still managing to be uptight about it.
And in another potentially stupid move, I invited my family.
A small part of me did it to humanize her in some way, so that when they think about her next, they don’t just imagine her as some girl they hardly know, and one who needs to be handled.
Another did it out of pure selfishness, because I want them to see what I do.
I want them to know exactly why I’m so caught up in her.
When I first told Roman, I thought he was about to pop a blood vessel, but luckily, Victoria was there to soften the blow with her immediate acceptance.
The rest of my brothers acted like they couldn’t understand why this was happening, but like the bastards they are, they’re already grinning from their seats while the opener does his thing. The drinks in their hands help.
Of course, the lounge is one of ours. It’s private, low-lit, and certainly more upscale than she’s used to singing in. This one seemed to fit her performances the best, and with a controlled crowd, trusted staff, and guarded exits, it’s bound to go off without a hitch.
I’ve made sure of it, and fortunately, Mila doesn’t know any of that.
She’s currently backstage, surely getting herself ready and warming up her vocals, but the impatient part of me just wants her out here now to prove how natural all of this is for her.
Restlessly drumming my fingers against the arm of my chair, I feel Roman’s eyes on me, and I pretend I don’t notice.
He hums before leaning closer. “You’re really doing this for her.”
“I am,” I murmur simply, giving him a glance. “She’s good.”
“And you brought the family,” Sergey adds, far too comfortable right now with his arm draped over Kat’s shoulders. “How thoughtful.”
“Don’t read into it too much.”
He smirks and lifts his glass. “Too late.”
Despite the light-hearted air around the rest of them, Roman’s jaw tightens, and he doesn’t let up. “You’re still avoiding the real problem.”
Deciding this isn’t the place, I don’t entertain him as I look away. “Tonight isn’t about that.”
“It never is,” he mutters, earning him a quiet scoff from Victoria, and with reluctance, he drops it.
Thanks once again, Victoria.
Before Roman can change his mind, or before my brothers can get more digs in, everyone claps as the opener finishes, and as he begins introducing Mila, the lights dim a little more, concentrating on the center stage.
Like I’ve been programmed to respond only to her, I straighten a bit in anticipation, watching as she steps into the light. My pulse thrums, and I have to force myself to breathe.
Regardless of how antsy she had been earlier tonight, she stands with relaxed shoulders and her chin up, eyes bright like she’s finally returning home. Her dress is long, black, and simple, but the way she moves in it so elegantly is what makes it.
When she speaks, welcoming everybody, she receives a few enthusiastic calls and smiles as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I anticipated her playing the violin since she’s been practicing often lately, but instead, she’s back to the basics.
With a hand steady on the microphone while it rests in its stand, the music starts up, and before the moment can pass her by, she starts to sing. Without warning, my chest clenches, and I already know I can’t miss a second of this.
It only takes a few notes for my brothers to react.
Sergey lets go of an almost bewildered scoff while Mikhail lifts a brow. Both Roman and Nikolai don’t react outright, but they watch, fully engaged, whether they mean to be or not. The girls gasp, not hiding for a second just how impressed they already are.
“Damn…she’s better than I expected,” Wyatt murmurs, to which Elena huffs like it should’ve been obvious from the start.
“Of course she is!”
Glancing at my family and watching the way they immediately get sucked into it just like I had, warmth spreads through my chest, and I grin to myself as I return my eyes to her.
Mila’s voice, warm and confident, fills the lounge while the live band keeps time with her. Even if it’s been some time since she’s done this, she slips back into it so naturally, moving with enough charisma to get everyone following the beat.
When she switches to a more upbeat song, that’s when the place comes alive.
Like she knows exactly what she’s doing, Mila welcomes the cheers and claps, feeding off the energy and giving it right back like this is perfect synergy. She’s truly entertaining, almost taunting everyone to respond just the way she wants them to.
At one point, she looks our way, earning enthusiastic praise from the girls, but when her eyes meet mine, holding it for a long while, I don’t cheer or clap. I just watched, feeling utterly and completely seen in that moment.
Everyone else feels irrelevant by that point, and as hard as I’ve tried to keep my mind and my heart from wandering into dangerous territory, it feels like no use now.
It’s clear when the last song ends that the show was nothing short of a success from the way everyone claps and cheers, giving her a standing ovation. I swear, despite being heavily pregnant, Elena is the loudest of them all.
For a moment, Mila allows herself to sit with the applause, which comes immediately and loudly. She looks almost stunned briefly, but then she smiles, and it almost cracks my chest open.
As I clap, it’s impossible to ignore the pride coursing through me, well aware that she killed it as expected. I remind myself over and over that she’s with me. I’ve been in close proximity with this fearless woman, taking on the stage like it’s second nature.
After Mila thanks everyone for coming, she leaves the stage, and while I tell myself to be patient, I can hardly wait long enough. I excuse myself with an explanation, grateful that my siblings are too engrossed in everything to really notice.
My heart’s still thrumming with excitement by the time I find her, practically glowing and breathless when our eyes meet.
“That went well,” she says, like it’s nothing, as she stands by the vanity, where I had one of the employees place a bouquet of roses for her. She looks at them, and her expression softens a touch. “And thank you for these and for tonight.”
“You deserve them,” I tell her, allowing myself to be a little too honest as I move closer, magnetized to her all over again. “You owned the stage.”
Mila turns a bit bashful, then she takes a breath. “You invited your family.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted them to see you where you’re most comfortable,” I tell her. “They were thoroughly entertained. Even Roman.”
A flicker of surprise crosses her features, but she smiles. “I’m glad.”
“I might have to start arranging the next one,” I hum, pushing the boundary a little further as I step closer, drawn in by the way she looks so alive. “You were incredible, Mila.”
As she looks up at me, more receptive in the wake of her performance, need stirs low in my gut. I don’t know what has gotten into me, but Christ…I could have her right now.
“Careful. I might use this against you to guarantee more.”
She’s teasing me. Fuck.
My lips pull as I look her over. “It would be worth it.”
With the space between us both shrinking and growing more charged, flooding with everything still unsaid, I reach for her without thinking. My fingers brush along the inside of her wrist, then slowly up her arm while I take in the warmth of her.
It feels like forever since I’ve touched her in any meaningful way, since I’ve been trying to give her space. But now, I need more. I need all of her.
Leaning in, my intentions are perfectly clear.
Yet, Mila pulls back before I can close the distance, faking me out at the last second with a small step back. It’s subtle, but deliberate enough.
There’s no anger on her face. Just a cool, steady expression looking back at me. She’s confident, if not a little smug.
I clench my jaw, feeling the sting of that small gesture, and I force out a breath.
“Mila…” I mutter, vaguely annoyed but trying to keep my cool. She has me wound up so tight, and I’m starting to think she knows it.
Rather than looking embarrassed or shrinking under my gaze, she doesn’t apologize. “Not here.”
Forcing myself to straighten, like I’m walking off the burn of being denied, I huff under my breath. “I let you perform once, and you get a big head about it.”
At that, Mila grins. “As it should be.”
Something in me wants to be pissed off about her denial, along with the easy way she pushes right back, but despite it all, I find myself mirroring her.
There’s something undeniably attractive about the quiet defiance in the way she chooses herself instead of me, and regardless of the need burning in me, I’m almost proud of that too.
My head and my heart are a mess, confused by what I’m used to and everything I don’t want to miss out on. But above all else, I just want her to stay, and to choose me when she’s ready.