Page 36 of Isle of Seduction

“That’s something we need to monitor, Andrea. Does he know where Igor is?”

Hope blooms in my chest. I already see myself calling Julian to tell him we found the love of his life and that he isn’t lost forever.

I still can’t wrap my head around how entangled we all are with Julian being Lana’s best friend, Pierce’s half brother and Igor’s husband. When Igor disappeared, exchanging his place for Lana’s in order to save her, Julian revealed that they got married in secret. With rings or not, these two were always destined for each other.

Unfortunately, my hope is short-lived when Andrea shakes his head.

“Something’s brewing within the Bratva. We need to keep an eye on them, but our focus remains on Addams. Dobrev confirmed the UK is still a source, which means my uncle Luc wasn’t Misha’s only dealer when it comes to people.”

I tell him about what I found out with Jane, Michelle and Piper and before I know it, my anger dissipates to accommodate something I’m not sure I’ve known with anyone other than Lana.

Companionship.

FIFTEEN

SPANKING IS A LOVE LANGUAGE

It’s been days since I last talked to Giulia, and it’s the purest form of torture I’ve ever experienced.

After the fundraiser where she clearly repeated she was just pretending, though her pussy fluttered on my fingers with no need of an audience, I respected her need for space. I did what I’ve never done in my life. I relented. I obeyed instead of taking what I desire most.

Do people not fucking realise how difficult it is to go against every instinct you have?

Thank God, I can fill myself up with images of her frame sleeping soundly in my house. She hasn’t even tried to lock her door again.

She’s becoming more and more impossible to resist, especially when she showed me her jealous side. It fed the beast inside me that needs to feast on her.

I revelled in how we strategised after meeting with the Dobrevs. I never intended on hiding it from her, I want her to be as involved as she wants, and if it means not at all, I’ll respect that. Or at least, I’ll try.

I need her lips on mine more than I fucking need to breathe. I need another taste of her before I lose my fucking mind and beat someone to death. With the unspent energy I have left in my body, it wouldn’t be surprising especially since I’m nowhere close with the murder investigation.

As always, it’s early when I leave the house to meet Mike in West Hill. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, as the crisp end of November air blows my long hair off my face. I put on my leather jacket on top of a charcoal grey cashmere sweater and the usual dark jeans, adding a silk scarf that belonged to my father to keep me warm.

Holiday season is upon us and we have to plan for two charity dinners, another fundraiser, and more PR stunts. Giulia’s becoming a beloved character in the West Hill political landscape and our romance has definitely gained me points in the opinion polls.

I should be elated.

It’s what I wanted. What I needed.

Yet, every picture of us I see on the front pages of West Hill newspapers is a reminder that I’m not her husband in truth, that we are just pretending.

To cool off and clear my mind of the one that is inhabiting it without much of my consent, I take the scenic route.

The wind whips against my body and I speed on the bumpy road, enjoying the adrenaline rushing through my veins, making me feel alive in a way not many other things can.

Except your new wife, my brain whispers softly to me.

I’m deep on an isolated country road when my engine sputters. Fuck, I was sure my tank was full. The arrow on the tank symbol on the dashboard isn’t lighting up, but my ride keeps making terrifying noises as if it’d break any minute. Grey smoke appears around me, coming from behind, and I’m slowly but surely losing speed despite accelerating.

Suddenly, my motorcycle stops and I’m pushed out of my seat and over the handlebars, a small fire erupting from the gas tank. I jump to my feet and remove my jacket to flap it on top of the flames and extinguish the fire before it devours my beloved bike.

I remove my helmet and pull at my roots, eyes wide. Turning my head to the sides, I notice I’m in the middle of fucking corn fields with nothing around. I’ve been here so many times before I know I’m about twenty kilometres away from the house and more than double from the city. Even with leaving the house early, I’m never gonna make it to my meeting.

I take out my phone to call Nico.

When I dial his number, no ring comes through. I frown, disconnect the call and watch the screen of my phone, looking for a clue of what’s up.

The clouds above me turn grey and menacing, the air chilling. The hair on my arms raises with the sudden temperature drop. Shit, if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m not only going to be late for my meeting, but I’ll be drenched by the time I reach civilisation again.

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