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Isabella folds her arms. “I have no say?”
“Let me call her. And then…” I rub my forehead, realizing I hadn’t thought the plan throughthisfar. “We’ll meet with her.”
“Fine,” she huffs loudly.
Spoiled much? I’ll break that.
Watch this…
“Isabella,” I sternly address her. “Do you have a phone?”
She hesitates for a moment. “Of course, I have a phone.”
“Let me have it.”
“No!” she screeches, and it cuts through me. “I won’t be a prisoner.”
“You’re notmyprisoner. Your fate’s prisoner. Someone tried to kill you. Now you live under my roof. I need to know everything about you. My brother Balor will give you a new phone.”
“Where’s he?” She looks out the window.
Balor runs our surveillance command center. But I don’t owe her that detail. She has to earn information about my family.
“Never mind that. Isabella, do you know what’s happening out there?” I meet her at the window. “Do you not still smell your home burning? Everything I do is for your protection.”
“And to keep tabs on me.”
“Aye. That, too. And it’s not negotiable. Please give me your phone. Don’t make me wrestle you for it.” Although the idea of pinning her down excites the hell out of me. “You won’t like it.” My cock hardens, imagining how she’d feel beneath me.
“Are you sure?” Her comeback shocks me.
What is this? She’s smiling to either tempt me or test me.
Traitors who fuck with my business don’t often live to repeat their mistakes. A woman challenging me is new territory. Nothing in my bones can lead me to hurt Isabella. Unless we’re in bed. And only if she likes it that way. Which I’m sure a good Italian princess won’t.
Jaysus, I don’t even know if she’s a virgin.
My eyes sweep across that bad little body of hers, my cock stirring even more. “Phone.” I hold out my hand. “I will never hit you, but I can make your life difficult. Don’t test me.”
Blushing, she reaches into the front of her shorts, and out comes a phone.
Interesting hiding place.
With the phone in her hand, she says, “I have to tell you something.”
My eyes practically roll into the back of my head. “What?”
“I kind of have a boyfriend.”
“Aboyfriend?” I close in on her, my heart pounding as anger clouds my vision. How did Balor not know this, too? “A boyfriend who fucks you?”
“No. It’s not like that.” She goes breathless, twisting the phone in her hand. A phone filled with text messages that would have outed her. She came clean. That’s a point in her favor with me.
“Who is he?” I ask, keeping my cool.
“You’re gonna find out anyway.” She hands me the phone. “Ivan Petrov. He’s Alexei Koslov’s nephew.”
I grab her shoulders and push her down onto the bed, ignoring her sweet scent. “Isabella, are you spying on your father for the Russians?” Or the other way around?
