Page 18 of Forgotten Vows
IVAN
For three days, I stuck with Emil as he traveled through the area. His destination was to check out a house in Milan. Having a place to wind up at was smart. It served a better purpose than what I had in mind.
Leaving New York and putting some distance between myself and the overly happy family vibe back at Luka’s fortress was what I wanted. But that was an ambiguous goal. Wandering aimlessly in another location wasn’t going to change my mind about Raisa. Nothing would trigger me to give up on her and magically let go of the memories that bound me to her and the longing that kept me captive to her.
I vowed to give her my heart long ago.
And I’d never forgotten how fulfilling it felt to have that honor. For her to gaze at me with her gorgeous blue eyes and let me know that I had her just the same, in heart, mind, and soul.
“You need to get laid,” Emil quipped as we walked back inside the house he was considering. We’d toured the outside, but in the huge villa again, he seemed unimpressed.
“No, I do not,” I replied dryly.
I’d tried that, years ago. Going celibate wasn’t a better replacement to having Raisa in my life, and I’d attempted to fuck my way out of missing her. That was easier said than done when I couldn’t even get hard enough to enjoy another woman.
Like alcohol, a petty fling with a stranger wouldn’t fix anything.
“Well, I’m getting sick of your moping and looking all miserable like this.” He shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets as we walked through the spacious great room. His gaze roved the place lazily, but I could tell he wasn’t going to make an offer on this property. While he could call me out on looking miserable—and I was—I could pinpoint when he was bored.
“I get it,” he continued. “You needed to get away for a little bit. My father and Gabriella are the very picture of what you could’ve had with Raisa all this time. If she hadn’t been born Konstantin’s daughter, she would’ve been with you all along. Misha could’ve been growing up alongside a cousin.”
“Tell me something I don’t fucking know already,” I replied dryly.
“Okay. I will.” He shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Talk to Luka.”
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t change anything.”
“Maybe it fucking would. Konstantin could be dead, for all we know.”
“But he also might not be.” The moment word spread that the leader of the Petrov faction had been killed, I perked up and wondered if that was the final obstacle removed from my happiness with Raisa. “I looked into it.”
“What, three of four years ago now, right?”
I nodded. “Four years ago was when the rumors first spread. No matter who I tasked with looking into it, no one could conclude whether he was still alive or not.”
“If he is, he’s hiding.”
“Or living under another alias.” Either one of those possibilities would still put Raisa in danger.Iwas a source of danger for her. The depths of this forbidden love we’d found had no ends. I would forever be a Dubinin and she was born a Petrov. And that was the end of the story of our affair.
It didn’t matter how we looked at this. I’d dealt with these memories and whimsicalwhat-ifs about Raisa for years. Nothing could be twisted to make her want me again, not with the extremes I’d gone to just to keep her safe.
Dragging up the past hadn’t been part of the plans of coming here. As we left the house to return to where we were staying, I realized there wasn’t even a plan to begin with.
Missing Raisa would just be a cancer for me to endure, a slowly festering darkness that remade the chemistry of my brain and reshaped my attitude on life.
So just give it up.
Go home.
Do your job.
Stay busy with whatever can keep your mind off her for a little bit.
It wouldn’t be easy to resist the jealousy when I saw Alexsei with Misha, or Luka and Gabriella with baby Andre. But I would. It wouldn’t do any of us good if I let this bitterness become my entire identity. I’d walked away from Raisa and ensured she wouldn’t pursue me. I stood by my choices then, just to keep her safe from her father’s wrath. And I would have to get used to this loneliness being the way the rest of my life would go.
Even though we were still in Italy, Emil and I checked in with what was going on back home. The next day, we were busy with video calls and following up with what we’d been dealing with last. Work never ended for us. Deals, negotiations, investigations, and reviews were always there to claim ourattention. I was glad for it, but it wasn’t only me who figured this little trip was over with.
“I’m going to fly back tomorrow,” Emil announced the following day.
