Page 81 of The Den of Sin
“I’m not. I’m barely thirty-eight.”
Fucking liar. He was turning forty this year. Isabella knew it too.
“Well, you arebarelythirty-nine years old,” she retorted dryly. I grinned. “So what’s your point, Sasha?”
“Why didn’t you slap Ryan Johnson when you ran into him banging that chick? Reporters were all over that. Your calm composure as you walked away after finding him in a compromised position.”
“Jesus, Sasha. Your change of topics will give me whiplash.”
He just grinned. “Why, Bella? You knew he deserved it. I could go and rough him up a bit for you. You can’t let people step all over you and then let them get away with it. That’s my fear when I see you with Vasili. He’ll swallow you whole.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence brother!
Isabelle’s eyes went out the window.
“I don’t know why I didn’t lose my shit, Sasha. I wondered it myself when I got back to my place.” She took a deep breath in and exhaled. “Funny thing was that as I left the hospital, I was annoyed that he texted me that day to meet him. For a while there, I debated pretending I didn’t see the text. But I forced myself to go, and then when I saw it… I was just too damn tired. My last patient that day had died, and I watched his mother fall apart because she lost her only son. Yes, it sucked that Ryan finally got caught cheating and that he humiliated me in such a public way. But in the grand scheme of things, did it really matter?”
“I guess it didn’t matter. Not if he only made it to ten percent after two years.”
“I can’t believe you remember that conversation,” Isabella mumbled with a smile. “Tatiana and I were so hammered that night.”
It must have been one of the times that Sasha got them out of trouble. Sasha’s next words confirmed it. “You two together caused havoc in D.C. during your college years. And how could I forget. You broke the man’s nose for attempting to forcibly kiss you. The police officer thought you and Tatiana were crazy. You sat the cop down and tried to explain to him what each percent means in your most serious, drunk voice.”
Isabella chuckled. “Well, he might have a daughter one day. It is useful.”
“Who came up with that shit? You or my sister?”
“I think we both did, after the first college party we attended. Every boy wanted to get their hands on us so we set some ground rules.”
“Did anyone ever get to one hundred?”
“Of course not. Don’t you remember, one hundred was marriage, kids, and a van. Although I think an amendment is in order. SUV in place of a van. Nobody wants to drive a van.”
I strode into the room, interrupting their conversation. “I might have a van around here somewhere.”
Sasha and Isabella shared a horrific look with a twinkle in their eyes. They always got along great. Isabella has been part of our family from the start, if only I wouldn’t have been so blind with the revenge. “You should not admit that, brother.”
My eyes lingered on Isabella, soaking her in. She didn’t look away, but she didn’t approach me either. That reservation in her, it made sense now.
“Sasha, go get an update from Adrian. We’ll be moving in thirty minutes.”
Without another word, my brother left. Soaking up her appearance, I knew her beachy smell, the feel of her body, the sound of her laugh and softness of her eyes would cling to my heart forever. She had burrowed beneath my skin without any effort and tattooed herself onto every cell of me. I might have been the one to speak those cruel words to her five years ago, but the joke was on me. Until I died, this obsession wouldn’t ease out. It only got stronger with each breath.
“Is everything okay?” Isabella’s voice was tentative, as if she expected me to shut her down at any moment.
I strode to her, like a dying man needing his fix, and she was the only one that could bring me back to life. Wrapping my arms around her, it was killing me to think of her small, soft body bleeding out in my sister’s car, losing something precious we had created that night.
And she had to go through it alone.
“I love you, Isabella.”
I felt her stiffen in my arms and my heart squeezed painfully, preparing for her rejection. But no sound left her lips. Slowly, her body relaxed, and she tightened her hold on me. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.
“You smell so good.” Her voice rumbled through my chest. Was this her soft rejection?
Fuck, I can’t let her go. If I was a better man, I would. After everything, I should have let her go but everything inside me fought against it.
“I want you to be mine, malyshka,” I rasped, and for the first time in my life, my voice shook with fear.
