32. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Nikolai
I thud my foot into the pedal, picking up speed like I’m in the last stretch of a race. My car zooms through the empty roads leading up to the mansion. I scan the side of the road with eagle eyes, picking out every irregularity as the world blurs past me.
What if the Irish have her? What if her family took her back?
I grip the wheel tighter, my teeth grinding away into a stressed mess.
“I’ll find you. No matter what.”
I turn a corner at break-neck speed and immediately slam my foot on the brake. The seatbelt digs into my shoulder, and I grimace with pain. My car shudders to a screeching halt, leaving drag marks in the road.
I rise from the car like a demon emerging from a midnight lake, my eyes locking onto Fredo De Rossi. I storm forward, overtaken by the rage curling into my skin.
He doesn't get the chance to take a breath. My fist collides with his jaw before he can scramble away. He stumbles back on shaky legs, his eyes trembling more than his body. If I had Fredo tied down, he’d break from words alone. I know the type. Afraid little boy, desperate for approval. I’ve broken so many men stronger than him.
I curl my tensed arm back, ready to break his fucking nose, when Isabella rushes between us.
“What are you doing? He’s my brother!” She pushes me back, shoving my chest with both her hands.
“I’m protecting you!” I snap back, the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“I don’t need your protection!”
“I told you not to leave without me? If I weren’t here, he’d have taken you back to your father.”
Fredo snivels on the floor next to his car, averting his eyes from mine. Isabella folds her arms, looking at me like I’m a dog. Is she trying to piss me off? Birdsong and a soft breeze waft around us as we draw in heavy breaths in unison. Our eyes lock, but I can’t understand the anger in hers.
I’m keeping you safe.
Isabella turns her back to me to steady Fredo. She checks his bruise, tenderly caring for him in a way that spiked my jealousy into a frenzy. I know he’s her brother, but that kind of care isn’t meant for bastards that don’t care about her.
“The guards said they saw you running. You looked hurt, I came to help…”
My words trail away as she spun on her heels, hell in her fiery eyes. “I ran because I don’t know who I can trust.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion. “What?”
Fredo breaks the tension between us. “Iz, I’m gonna let you settle this. Remember, your family is waiting for you. Show up for us.” His weasel's eyes plead with her, and all I want is to knock his fucking head off. If he has his way, Isabella will never be free again.
He nods at me, his eyes flickering away in fear the moment they meet mine. It takes all my self-control not to break him. I don’t know what he’s done, but I know he's caused this. Why else is he fucking here?
He slips into his car, speeding away like the forest is about to be engulfed in flames.
My eyes meet Isabella’s. The wind pulls her dark hair into her face, while the morning light makes her piercings stand out. She looks so gorgeous, even if she is glaring at me.
“You want to explain?” I ask.
She folds her arms, glancing away from me while she thinks. “Not here.” She snaps.
“Why?”
“I don’t feel safe on the mansion grounds. I don’t know what you’re all up to. I’ll explain everything if you take me somewhere safe.”
That doesn’t make any fucking sense.
I suck in a calming breath, holding back the fire in my stomach because it’s Isabella. Because I know what she’s been through, and I know how hard it is for her to trust people. Fine, if she needs a different environment to trust me, I can give her that.
“Get in.”
I get into my car without waiting for an answer. She fills the passenger seat, and I drive away in silence.
We step into my apartment for the first time since I took Isabella to the Sidorov mansion. We re-trace our steps, a strange familiarity floating around us. This isn’t a full circle. I won’t let it be the end of us.
Isabella glides like royalty wherever she walks. She can make anything look good, and I don’t know how she does it. We cut a strange silhouette. Her, with a sense of personal style and creativity in every movement; next to me, the huge, stalking man with blood on his knuckles.
She turns, pain and love and fear in her eyes.
“Talk to me.” I growl.
She closes her eyes for a moment. When they reopen, her brows pinch and determination builds a wall between us.
“Have you ever lied to me, Nikolai?”
“No.”
There are parts of me I've kept to myself, but I never lied. Those parts are things I want to tell her, things I would tell her. I love her singing for a reason. I’m ready to tell her I just need the right moment.
“Camilla called me today. The Blue Moon was burned down.” Isabella swallows back tears, and rage fills my body at the mere thought of someone using her friends to hurt her. “Percy and Camilla were almost killed because of me. My friends have lost the business they built together with love because of me. I lost a home because…”
“Who did this?” I snarl before leashing the simmering anger in my bones. I step towards her to pull her into a hug, but she flinches away from me. That hurts more than any torture I’ve ever experienced.
“You did.” She whispers.
Is she delirious? I cock my head at her in disbelief.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’d never hurt you.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Her voice rises with each word.
She’s been calmer since coming here, but Isabella always had a short fuse.
“I need you to explain.” I say as calmly as I can.
“Camilla told me men speaking Russian burned the bar to the ground. They tried to kill her and Percy. They were lucky to get out alive!”
“Russian accents are hard to pin to an untuned ear. They can be imitated.”
“So who was it?” She watches me like a hawk. I feel the traps laid between us. One wrong move might crumble us to pieces.
“On the day you got this call, your brother arrives just in time to save you. You don’t think that’s suspicious? You know your father is cunning. He’d do something like this to get you back under his control. He swore to burn down the Blue Moon the day he found it, for fuck's sake. You're smarter than this, Isabella.”
“That’s what I thought.” She hisses.
I throw my arms in the air. “Then why are we fighting? We both see he’s manipulating you, so why put us through this?” I can hold my cool when I think she’s justified, but if she sees the manipulation too, then I don’t understand why she’s fighting me.
I close the distance between us, but she runs from me, hopping over the sofa and holding her arms out. “Stay away from me.”
“Isabella, I don’t understand.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, holding off tears. “It feels like you’re all trying to control me, and I don’t know who’s telling the truth.”
“Why don’t you trust me?”
Her eyes meet mine. “I want to.” She pulls out her phone and furiously flicks through it. She holds it up to me. “Fredo sent me this. It’s CCTV footage of the men on their way to the bar. Do you know them?”
I squint at the picture. It’s too fuzzy, too grey to pick out any faces for certain. “Isabella, these could be any men in the country. I wouldn’t know them if they walked past me.” She swallows, desperation bleeding into her resolve. “It could be anyone. Why trust your brother and not me?”
I move forward again, reaching out to her, trying to comfort her with my touch. She snaps back as if there might be a spell in my fingertips.
“Stay away from me!” she repeats, louder with more whip in her sharp tongue.
“I just want to calm you down.”
She shakes her head, withdrawing from me. That withdrawal, after everything I’ve given her, is like a twisted knife being pulled from my stomach.
“You still don’t trust me?” I can’t handle it. Not this tearing abandonment. Not after everything.
I take one more step forward and then Isabella snatches a gun from my armoury wall. She trains the gun on me, turning off the safety.
“It’s not loaded.” I snarl.
“Liar.” She arches her eyebrow, taking three steps forward. “I thought you never lied to me.”
I picked a hell of a time to start.
“Until now.” I breathe as the end of the gun settles between my tensed pecs.
Our eyes pour into one another. Her breath rattles and my senses heighten. She’s crazy enough to pull the trigger, yet all I want is to kiss her full lips.
“Now what?” the bass in my voice sends a flicker through her eyes, a subtle shift in her body I’ve learned to understand.
With her free hand, she reaches into my pocket. Her fingers brushed my thighs for a torturous moment before she pulls out my phone.
“Call Aleksander. Pretend I’m not here and ask about The Blue Moon.”
I snatch my phone from her. “Gladly.” I wrap my fingers around the barrel of the gun, pulling it deeper into my chest. “And when you hear the truth, I want an apology.”
“Fine.”
“And if I’m lying to you, then I want you to pull the fucking trigger.” I lean forward, my eyes locked on her lips.
Our lips brush for half a moment, then she uses the gun to push me back against the wall. My dark gazed pins her in place. This either ends with a kiss or a gunshot, and we both know it.
I type Alek’s number when she stops me.
“Actually, Aleksander is too clever for this. I want you to call the explosives guy. Boris, the one who came to The Blue Moon with you. He knew where it was, he knew what it meant to me, and he has one of the thickest Russian accents. Call him and ask about the bar as if the job has already happened.”
“Fine.” I grunt. “Don’t change your mind again. I don’t have all day.” She narrows her eyes at me, but lets the comment slip as my phone begins the call.
“Nikolai? What is it? I haven’t got much time. Alek is sending me on some bullshit job to settle some shit with the Irish.”
“I’ll be quick.” I drawl.
My eyes stay locked with Isabella’s as I speak.
“Did Alek send you on the job on The Blue Moon? You know, the bar?”
There’s a pause and Isabella’s eyes soften. The wall between us cracks, and I catch a glimpse of our future in her beautiful eyes.
“The Blue Moon?” He asks.
“Yeah. You know, the bar we picked up Isabella from.”
There's a long pause.
“Alek said you didn’t want to be involved in that. Too personal… you know, because of your wife.”
Anxiety spikes across my skin like an army of hot spiders. “What? That’s not fucking true.” I switch to Russian because I’m too angry to control myself. “Don’t play games with me. We didn’t burn the place.”
He pauses, taken aback by my tone.
“We did. Alek ordered it. I set the place on fire myself.”
My fingers relax in shock, and the phone clatters to the floor.
I catch Isabella’s eyes. Shame and regret and confusion spiral around me as I lose control. Her hand has been steady, but now it trembles. The sliver of belief fades behind the tears and then evaporates. Broken.
“I didn’t know-”
My ribs crunch as all the air leaves my body. I crumple to the floor, a stain of crimson red following me as I slide against the wall. She walks away as the gunshot echoes around me and the world collapses into darkness.
Rattling breaths are mixed with coughs of blood as she slams the door behind her. At least you’re the last person I’ll ever lay eyes on.