Page 28 of Imperfect Desires

Alina.

She’s wearing a black dress, the hem brushing her knees. Her long dark hair falls in loose waves down her back. Her face is pale beneath the dim lights of the chandelier overhead.

Her blue eyes lock with mine, and for a second, I can’t move. She’s more beautiful than I remember. Sharper. Harder. More woman than girl. She steps down the stairs slowly, her heels clicking softly against the marble. Her gaze shifts toward Viktor.

He opens his arms, and she folds into him. My heart stops when she flings herself into her brother’s arms. I have to clench my palms to stop myself from pulling her into me and promising to keep her safe.

Viktor presses his hand to the back of her head, his expression softening slightly. “I’m here now,” he says quietly.

Alina nods into his chest. Then she steps back, her gaze shifting toward me.

“Alina,” I say quietly.

Her chin lifts. “Lev.”

Her expression is controlled, but her eyes… her eyes are full of something else. Something sharp and angry and vulnerable, and it cuts straight through me. The only comfort I can offer is a silent promise to find and deal with the bastard responsible for this pain.

The day of the funeral is brutal.

I stand with Viktor and Zasha near the back of the crowd as the priest speaks in low Russian. Cold wind bites at my face.

Alina stands with Yelena, her gloved hands clasped in front of her. Her shoulders are straight, but her face is carefully blank. I watch her. The way her hands tremble. The slight hitch in her breath, and when the coffin is lowered into the ground, Alina’s knees give out. But thankfully, Viktor catches her before she falls.

But for a split second, I, too, step forward. Afterward, I find her standing beneath a tree near the edge of the estate grounds. Lost in thought.

“Let me walk you to your room,” I offer quietly.

She hesitates—then nods. I walk beside her down the marble hallways. The silence stretches tight between us. When we reach her door, she turns toward me. Her eyes are shining with tears.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

I nod. My gaze sharp on her face. She hesitates. Then steps toward me. Slowly, she rises onto her toes and presses her lips to my cheeks. A chaste ‘thank you’ kiss, but I freeze nonetheless.

For a second, I don’t move. Then my hands slide to her waist, and I pull her up and kiss her hard and desperately. Every feeling I have tried to ignore for the past four years flows into this one kiss, and yet I can’t get enough.

I taste the salt of her tears on her lips and feel the heat, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. I tell myself that this is just to comfort her. Then I remember why I’m here, who she is, and why I shouldn’t be doing this. I pull away abruptly, my chest heaving.

“I’m sorry,” I say hoarsely.

Alina’s eyes fill with hurt, but she nods and walks into her room, softly closing the door behind her.

I step back. My jaw tightens. “Goodnight, Alina,” I mutter to the cold door now in my face.

I walk away without looking back. But my hands are still shaking.

And I know I’m already losing this battle

10

Lev

To

New York

Two years later

I stand on the balcony, nursing a glass of fine whiskey as the cold New York air cuts through my shirt. It's Viktor’s wedding, and the reception is in full swing, but I feel more relaxed here, all alone.

---