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“He’s my father, I think part of me will always care about him. We used to be close. Every Friday he would take me out for ice cream. Then we’d go play football at the park.” He seems to get lost in the memory before shaking his head.
“But he’s not the same man I used to know. He makes rash decisions and refuses to change the course of our organization. Human trafficking has always been the number one thing I plan to change when we take over. He says he wants to change, but Damien and Lev’s fathers always convince him to do ‘one last job’.” He says the last three words with air quotes, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Is Lev close with his father?” I ask, wondering how they feel about the trafficking issue. I know Damien hates his dad, but I have no idea about Lev’s. He’s not opened up to me the same way Damien has.
“That’s for him to share with you. But I will tell you that if the opportunity ever arises for Damien's father to have an ‘accident’,” he uses the air quote again and it’s so damn cute I would giggle if it weren’t for the seriousness of the conversation. “I’ll be the one to help set it up.”
“And Lev? Would you do the same to his father?”
“Lev’s father is a piece of shit, but I don’t think I’d want to kill him. He used to support Lev’s art, giving him time and space to create. When his mother died in the accident with mine, he became hard. He started hanging out with Damien’s father too often. He would get angry when Lev painted or sketched his mother. Lev was grieving, trying to process everything, and images of his mother helped him. I think, for his father, they were a constant reminder of what he lost. But for Lev,” his voice softens, “for him, they were a way to preserve her memory.”
He sits up, putting his elbows on his knees and closing his eyes. “His father tried to burn them all one day. The three of us ran to his studio and saved as many as we could. We were only fourteen at the time, and the fire burnt us all. But Ivan, his father, just stood there while watching it all go up in flames with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. Lev hasn’t painted a picture of her since.”
My heart breaks in my chest at the image of three young boys running to save those paintings. “Where are they now?” I ask, needing to know if Lev still has a piece of her.
“Lev has them locked away in a storage unit. I don’t think he’s laid eyes on them since we packed it all up.” He opens his eyes, leaning back into that comfortable position again. My eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “Any possibility you’re going to tell me why you’re asking me all of this?”
I bite my lip, and his eyes instantly go to the movement, causing heat to rush to my cheeks. “Not today,” I tell him, not wanting to lie and have another thing to apologize for later.
“One day?” he asks, still staring at my lips.
“One day,” I promise.
We sit there in silence, the tension in the air palpable. He hasn’t moved his eyes and I don’t want to breathe. This feels like the most real moment we’ve had together. He’s opened up to me during our lunches, but this is different, and I think he feels it too.
“Are you nervous?” he asks me, so quietly.
“Yes,” I breathe, not about the trial though. I’m nervous because Alexi is in my space, and for the first time since I got to this island, I don’t want him to leave.
“Can I touch you?” His voice is a whisper.
“Yes,” I say, finally. Feeling relieved that he asked for permission.
He reaches his hand out, and I don’t flinch away or grab for my blades. I let him run his knuckles down my jaw, and the heat of his fingers sear into me like a brand. Suddenly, his forehead is touching mine. The smell of coffee beans and vetiver fills my senses.
I could pull back and not give in to this moment between us. It would make it easier to tell them all the truth. And if they walk away, then at least I won’t know what I’m missing with him. I could… and yet, I don’t.
Our lips clash so hard our teeth clank together. It’s brutal and angry and one hundred percentus. His hands slide behind my head, pulling me even closer to him. My legs go around his waist until I’m straddling him on the bed. His hands roam my back while mine caress his arms. His muscles tense and flex under my touch, turning me on even more than I thought was possible.
He pulls up my shirt, stroking my back before tightening his hands around my hips and slamming me down onto his hard cock. I love it when Damien and Lev pause and check in with me, making sure I’m okay. It makes me feel safe. But Alexi taking control makes me feel wild, it makes me feel free. My thin shorts and his sweats leave nothing to the imagination as I grind down on him with abandon.
His nails dig into my back, and I cry out with the burn that ignites my soul on fire. He swallows my voice like he’s sucking it into his soul to keep. I rake my nails down his arms, making him growl, and if I thought Damien's growl turned me on, Alexi’s makes me feral.
Clothes are being tugged at as we pull each other closer, months of pent-up frustration and anger built into this single kiss that will go down in history as one the gods themselves are jealous of.
There’s a crash outside in the living room that makes us pause. Alexi jumps up, putting himself in front of the door and me, making me fall on my ass in the process.
“Get the fuck out!” I hear Damien yell. The door handle jiggles, and Alexi pulls out his gun to aim it through the door as he pulls it open. The intruder staggers back as they register the weapon in their face.
“Nessa?” I ask, stunned she would come back here.
Damien grabs her from behind, tossing her on the floor.
“Wait! I need to talk to her! EVIE!” Nessa screams as Damien and Alexi take up stances like they are going to kill her in the middle of our living room. It's cute they are being protective, but super unnecessary.
I pull a blade out from its sheath on my leg and push between the two gorillas ready to attack. “I got it,” I bark at them. “Get the fuck up,” I tell Nessa, making room for her to move. She scrambles to her feet, shaking. “Why are you here?”
“I… I came to warn you,” she says quietly.
