Page 9 of Imperfect Desires

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the moment in the hallway. His hand onmy wrist. The slight pressure of his thumb brushing against my skin. The steady rise and fall of his chest when he stood close enough for me to feel his heat.

My chest tightens painfully.

Maybe it’s because I’m eighteen now.

That has to be it. I’m an adult now. And maybe turning eighteen means noticing things I didn’t before. It means feeling things I’m not sure I’m ready for.

I roll onto my side, my fingers curling into the silk sheets. My skin still feels warm where Lev touched me. My legs press together involuntarily.

This is stupid.

But the heat won’t fade. I drag my hand down my face and force my eyes shut. It’s nothing. A passing thought. A stupid crush. It’ll pass. It has to.

But deep down, I know better.

I’m in trouble.

After a restless night, I wake to the sound of low voices in the hallway, and I can instantly make out Lev’s voice. He is probably here to escort my father to one of his many meetings.

I push back the silk sheets and slip out of bed, my bare feet pressing into the cool floor. Sunlight filters in through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the sleek modern furnishings.

I hurriedly brush my teeth and dress in a loose-fitting t-shirt and slacks, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before they leave. As I walk toward the dining area, Viktor’s voice drifts toward me, low and steady. I recognize Zasha’s quiet response, followed by the sound of a glass being set down.

Lev stands a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His gaze flicks toward me the moment I step into view.

My heart thuds painfully.

"You’re up early," Lev says. His voice is low, quiet.

"So are you."

His mouth curves faintly, but his gaze is steady.

"Join us for breakfast," Viktor says.

I hesitate. "Right now?"

Lev’s gaze doesn’t move from mine. "Unless you’d rather eat later."

I press my lips together. "No. That’s fine."

Lev’s gaze darkens. He doesn’t say anything else, but I feel the weight of his gaze.

As breakfast is being served, Yelena slips into the seat beside me, her movements effortlessly fluid, like a cat sliding into a sunbeam. She doesn’t have to try—she never does. People notice Yelena even when she’s doing nothing at all. Her dark hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail, her eyes sharp and assessing as she surveys the room. She looks perfectly at ease, completely at home in a room full of dangerous men. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m holding my breath, trying not to draw attention to myself.

Viktor and Zasha converse softly at the head of the table. Zasha’s voice is calm and steady, but Viktor’s sharper tone pierces the space with quiet authority. Lev sits across from me, silent, his gaze lowered as he wraps his long fingers around the glass ofblack coffee before him. His knuckles are rough, and his hands bear scars. His thumb glides along the rim of the glass with slow, measured precision.

I catch myself watching him too closely—tracking the movement of his hand, noting how the tendons in his wrist flex beneath the skin. He’s dressed in dark clothing again, a fitted jacket and shirt that clings to the hard lines of his shoulders and chest. He looks lethal. Controlled. His green eyes are downcast, half-hidden beneath his lashes, but I can feel the weight of his presence sitting there—like it is pressing down on the room itself.

I wonder what he’s thinking about. I wonder if he feels the same restless tension beneath the surface that I do.

When we finish eating, the staff clears the table. Fresh drinks are served—coffee laced with whiskey for the men and juice for Yelena and me. Yelena stares at the glass of orange juice in front of her, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Take this away and fetch me another drink," she says.

Viktor’s gaze flicks toward her, and he stretches his hand to remove the offending drink. "Is something wrong?"

Yelena gestures toward the coffee in front of Viktor. "You’re drinking coffee laced with whiskey. I’d like some of that."

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