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Chapter 15
ALEXEI
As we walk down to the dining room, I’m thinking I need to ease up on the sugar and add some spice.
At some point, I’m going to have to pick a fight with Isabella. I could fucking feel the suspicion coming off her in waves and just blurted out I love her.
I think I defused the situation. I fucking hope so.
Walking into the dining room, I gesture at the seat to my left instead of pulling out the chair for Isabella. As I sit down, Ariana comes in with two plates of food, and Isabella pauses.
Every muscle in my body tenses as the two women stare at each other. Then a wide smile splits over Ariana’s face, and she comes to set the plates down where she and Demitri will be sitting.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She begins to move in on Isabella, then asks, “Is it okay if I give you a hug?”
Isabella’s eyes dart to me and seeing that she’s uncomfortable, I jump in. “Maybe hold off on the hugs until Isabella’s had time to settle in.”
“Everything just feels weird,” Isabella explains. “You’re Ariana?”
“Yes. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Thank you.” Just as Isabella sits down, Demitri comes in with two plates of food, and it has Isabella saying, “This wasn’t necessary.”
“Demitri’s practically a chef,” Ariana boasts.
Demitri places a plate in front of me, and leaning over the table, he sets the other one down in front of Isabella.
I glance at the pasta. “Looks good.”
“You better eat everything,” Demitri mutters.
“Yes, Daddy,” I taunt him, making Ariana chuckle. I look at Isabella and notice a smile is tugging at her mouth.
For a moment, silence falls around the table as we all dig in.
After swallowing a bite, I ask Demitri, “Did you tell Ariana about the house we’re going to have built for the two of you?”
“A house? Where? Why?” Ariana rambles the questions off.
“Slipped my mind,” Demitri says, and then he smiles at his fiancée. “On this property. It’s just so we’ll all have more privacy, but I’m still close to Alexei if something happens.”
“Yes!” Ariana exclaims, then she smiles at me. “Not that I don’t like living in this house.”
“Just want to see you happy, little one,” I say, affection lacing my words.
“I want a room just for my makeup,” Ariana demands.
“Only fair, seeing as I’ll have one for weapons,” Demitri replies before taking a bite of the pasta.
“You like makeup?” Isabella suddenly asks.
“I used to be a makeup artist. It’s now more of a hobby since I started the charity,” Ariana explains.
“Charity?”
Demitri and I continue to eat while the women talk.
“I’m more like a benefactor for the elderly who don’t have anyone. Especially those with medical conditions,” Ariana says. “My mother has Alzheimer's, so the project’s close to my heart.”
Isabella’s features soften. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I think it’s amazing that you want to help… others.” A frown forms on Isabella’s forehead, and she stares at the table.
When her eyes narrow, my heart kicks up a gear. “You okay?”
Slowly, she shakes her head, focusing way too fucking hard on something.
Fuck.
“Isabella?” I ask, leaning a little forward.
“It’s weird. It feels as if it’s on the tip of my tongue,” she murmurs, deep in thought. “It’s right there.”
Reaching a hand out to her, I place mine on the back of hers. “It’s probably the thing about helping others. It’s something you and Ariana have in common. Where she helps the elderly, you help slaves.”
“They’re not slaves,” she says, strength brimming in the words.
“The innocent,” I correct myself.
Again the frown on her face deepens. “It feels like déjà vu.”
A feeling that Isabella’s memory might return sooner than I’d like has me thinking I’ll need to speed things along. Somehow. Fuck.
Suddenly Isabella smiles. “Don’t mind me. Crazy talk.”
“Don’t say that.” Ariana gives Isabella a comforting smile. “It must be hard. We’re here to help you through this.”
The moment passes, and we resume eating.
When I’m done, I get up and walk to the side table. “Want something to drink, Isabella? It might help you relax.”
“Sure.”
I pour three tumblers of vodka and carry them back to the table.
Isabella glances at Ariana. “You don’t drink?”
“Not that poison. I’m okay with a glass of wine once in a while.”
Isabella picks up the tumbler. “Vodka?”
“The best.” Holding up my glass, I say, “Na zdoróv’je.” I lock eyes with Isabella. “To your health.”
I take a much-needed sip and then relax back in my chair.
As I enjoy the drink, I start thinking about speeding things up without making Isabella uncomfortable or suspicious. It feels like I’m stuck in a catch twenty-two, and I fucking hate it.
When Isabella glances at me, I smile at her. “You okay?”
She nods. “The first day wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I expected a lot more awkwardness.”
“That’s good to hear. I want you to feel at home.”
Demitri finishes his drink then gets up. “I’m going to check the security.”
Once he leaves the room, Isabella asks, “Is Dimitri always so quiet?”
“Depends. Whenever I piss him off, he doesn’t shut up,” I joke.
“Which you do a lot,” Ariana sasses me.
“I keep him on his toes.”
Ariana chuckles, shaking her head at me.
