Chapter 130
“Wow, Fay,” Daniel says, making me jump as he comes to stand next to me. “I thought you were bad at hiding your jealousy this morning, but it’s got nothing on this.”
And I cringe a little as I look up into Daniel’s face. He smirks down at me as I realize how completely obvious I’m being. “Sorry,” I murmur, taking his hand.
“It’s all right,” he whispers, moving close to me and running a crooked finger softly down my cheek. “Everyone knows by now that you two had drama, so I think it’s not abnormal for you to look a little jealous when he’s talking to a new girl. But let’s not forget the goal, right?”
“Right,” I say, smiling up at him and tilting my chin up in a silent request. Daniel smiles at me before he bends a little, pressing his mouth to mine in a slow, lingering kiss.
“Crazy in love,” he murmurs. “You and me? Crazy in love.”
“Yup,” I reply, grinning up at him and considering that at least it’s not a hard thing to pretend. Because I do love him – not that way, of course. But Daniel’s my best friend. It’s not difficult to let everyone see that and throw in a few kisses here and there.
The next few hours are torture, though. Daniel doesn’t leave my side, of course, but the Russian dolls still flock to him, telling annoying stories and each giving him obvious compliments in their individual attempts to stand out, to make him choose one of them.
I sigh a little inwardly as I watch these girls flirt with my fiancé. I pretend to laugh at their jokes, but really I just wish I could simply just tell them to give up because there’s not a chance in hell that he’s actually going to go for any of us.
Because, I know, Daniel and Jerome are still going strong, even if their midnight meetups have been temporarily disrupted.
But honestly weathering the affections of the dolls is the least torturous part of the night. The most torturous part is that Ivan doesn’t say a god damn word to me. He doesn’t even glance my way, even as I watch him take the girl’s phone and clearly add his number into it. He doesn’t even acknowledge my existence as he skips out of the party two hours before the rest of us do.
I scowl the whole ride home, and continue doing so as I climb the stairs with my hand warmly held in Daniel’s, my mind turning over every moment of Ivan ignoring me until Daniel closes my bedroom door behind us and turns the lock.
“Fay,” Daniel says, and I look up at him almost in surprise that he’s there. He frowns down at me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Daniel,” I murmur, stepping closer and leaning my head against his chest. “I just – I went into all of that expecting to fight with him, to have to beat him off with a stick. I wasn’t expecting…”
“Cheer up,” Daniel says, patting me lightly on the back before heading towards the bathroom. “At least I think we successfully convinced the Russians that I’ve only got eyes for you.”
“Yes,” I say quietly, watching Daniel pass through the bathroom door and waiting for him to shut it behind him. Then, once it’s firmly closed, I hurry to my desk and pull out the little burner phone that Kent never took away from me. I bite my lip as I hold it in my hands, considering my next move.
But then I think…fuck it.
And I send off a quick text.
Come and meet my horse tomorrow, I type. 9 am.
And a little smile curls on my lips as the reply comes almost instantly.
I’ll be there.
A little whirl of excitement starts low in my stomach as I tuck the phone back into my desk and then walk to the bathroom to rap a knuckle on the door. “Daniel?” I call. “I’m going through, okay?”
“Okay!” Daniel calls cheerfully after me. “Sleep tight!”
The next morning, Jerome almost crashes the Lexus when he pulls into the parking lot of the stables and sees Ivan’s red Ferrari parked there.
“Fuck,” he whispers, quickly straightening out the wheel and then turning to glare at me. “What the fuck, Fay?!”
“What?” I ask innocently, trying to hide my smile.
“Fay,” Jerome growls, quickly pulling into a spot as far away from Ivan’s car as possible. “What the hell are you playing at this time?”
“Kent knows,” I say evenly with a little shrug, speaking the truth.
I told him this morning. He hadn’t been happy about it.
I had picked my moment quite carefully. “Um, Kent?” I had said, leaning casually against the open door to the closet as Kent got dressed. And then, when he had turned and looked at me suspiciously – probably because I haven’t been so shy and hesitant around him in weeks – I had stumbled out with my whole plan to meet Ivan at the stables today, just to check on things between his organization and the Lippert family.
Kent walked slowly over to me, stopping only when he was so close that I had to tilt my chin all the way back to look up into his face. Then, he had gone completely still.
“What are you doing, Fay,” Kent had growled. “What happened last night?”
“Nothing,” I said, willing honestly into my face as I looked up at him. “Ivan and I didn’t have a chance to talk – I promise, it’s not – it’s not a romantic thing. Daniel and I were cornered all night by the Russians.”
And then I waited. If he told me not to go, I wouldn’t go.
But secretly? I kind of knew he’d say yes. I had told Kent weeks ago about what happened at my father’s house – about my father offering to take Jerome from him, about my father laughing when I suggested that Kent could keep me safe. And I could tell that the news had rattled him.
Kent had used the information, of course – had used my father’s confidence to rattle Natalia, to suggest to her that Alden had something up his sleeve and that they needed to figure it out before breaking off the engagement with me. It had been clever, that method of gaining more time.
But my father and Ivan have been slippery these past few weeks – haven’t given Kent much of anything, instead dancing around him and Natalia. They would take meetings, but they didn’t commit to anything.
And I knew – I knew that Kent’s frustration on this matter, his desire for more information, would beat out his jealousy.
“Fifteen minutes,” Kent snarled, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me tight against his stomach. “That’s how long you spend with him. And then Jerome escorts him off the property. Am I clear?”
Eagerly, I nodded. And then I wrapped my arms around Kent’s neck, standing on my tiptoes and lifting my face closer to his, asking for a kiss.
“He doesn’t put his hands on you, Fay,” Kent said next, refusing to kiss me and glaring at me darkly instead.
“I never got my condo in Milan –“ I said, smirking a little, trying to use a joke to lighten the mood.
But Kent just shook his head and wrapped his arms tighter around me, not biting. Slowly, the smile dropped from my face.
“Not a single touch,” he growled, and then he waited for me to nod, agreeing to his terms before lifting me tight against him and sealing his mouth on mine. I clung to Kent then, overwhelmed a little by his order, his intensity, his covetous need to keep me all for himself –
And then I let him carry me to the bed, and lay me back down on the sheets, and show me just how much I belonged to him. I let Kent wipe away the idea of anyone else touching me again, ever. But even as Kent smacked my ass and left me panting against the sheets, heading back to the closet after making me cum so hard that I could barely remember my own name…
I still knew that I was going to do it.
That I had to meet Ivan, and talk to him, and know what this thing had been between us - even if just to close the door on us.
But as I climb out of the car and look over the roof to see Ivan leaning against the doorway of the stables, his hair falling casually into his face as his eyes lock on mine?
Fuck.
Fuck, but it feels like that door is still standing wide open.
