Page 41 of Heartfelt Pain (Ruling Love #3)

ROMA

A Few Weeks Later

My breath fogs in front of my face as I peer out at the stunning landscape full of icebergs.

It’s fucking cold in Alaska.

“It’s beautiful.” Ren bounces on her tiptoes by the railing.

I do too, but because I’m shivering.

We’ve got bulky coats on, but this is ten times worse than all the times I’ve sat out on Elijah’s terrace in the New York winter.

Ren grins in delight. Her red cheeks practically sparkle. She’s more like a kid on a snow day than an adult freezing her ass off on the deck of an Alaskan cruise.

“Can we go back in now?” I promised I wouldn’t whine. I lasted a good three minutes.

We left for Vancouver a week ago. We spent a couple of nights and caught a hockey game. Ren didn’t give a shit about the two teams, but she acted like she’d never been to a sports event in her life.

And fair enough, she’s kept busy the past few years. She let loose, screaming when a fight broke out. I think she managed to alarm even the most diehard Canadian fans.

Then we got on the ship, heading off on her Alaskan cruise. She’d spent weeks planning the whole thing out.

But the moment we got onboard, I showed her all the amazing things we could do in our cabin to stay warm.

I didn’t hear any complaints from her until this morning when she decided to venture out.

She peers over the railings and I shuffle forward in my oversized jacket. I’ve pulled the hood up, and I don’t care how much of an asshole I look like. Elijah would say I’ve done the whole state of New York wrong by how much I’m struggling, but I can’t help it.

“I’m meant for the beach,” I tell Ren, grabbing onto her. If she falls overboard, I’m screwed. There’s no way I’m surviving the cold water if I jump in after her.

Ren shakes off my hand and leans forward again.

“What are you looking for?” I ask.

“Whales.”

My teeth start chattering. “I can YouTube some of those for you.”

“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Let’s go back to the room,” I beg.

“Just a little longer,” she says. “It’s really not that bad.”

“I’m going to die of hypothermia.”

“You haven’t fallen into the water.”

I pull her back from the railing, to ensure we don’t.

“Have you ever seen videos of Drake’s Passage?” she asks. “In Antarctica.”

Oh, dear lord.

“I’m picking the next vacation and we’re going to the beach.”

“To the beach?” She tilts her head up, cold air frosting her face. She smiles, enjoying every moment .

“Yes, the beach.” Fiji.

“You, the beach?” She phrases it like it’s an absurd concept. “With your leather jacket and your muscle cars and your aversion to nature in general.”

“That’s not true. I took Sailor to the zoo the other day.”

“As in the place where they keep captured wild animals?”

It’d been quite a lovely day, my twin brother and I hanging out with his kid.

I tried to get Ren to come, but she finished a few things up with Ben before she went into vacation mode.

“What about London?” I compromise. Ren is compiling a list of all the places she wants to visit. She’s already told her cousin she’s going to be taking more time off of work.

Everyone agreed to it of course. She deserves to enjoy her time and spend her money how she wants. And the business won’t sink. She’s still heavily invested in its success.

But she’s admitted that boundaries aren’t necessarily an evil thing.

We’re both trying to enjoy the cruise because we know when we get back, it’ll be me hustling. I called Sam, the former mechanic for the bratva’s luxury cars. He didn’t have any family to take over the business so he happily agreed to pass on his former customers and give me his blessing.

And I worked out a contract with Trevino to service his company vehicles. It’s a small fleet, but I’m not turning away any steady business.

Dad’s answered his phone every time I’ve called. Either to ask his opinion or to vent about paperwork. I’m still worried, I’ve upset him by leaving, but I know that’s my anxiety. I know because Dad’s the one who told me so.

He went with Mom to Russia, to visit Grandma. I’m not sure what’s going to happen between them. He’s looked at her strangely the past few weeks like he’s trying to figure out who she is.

Lev Zimin has never been stumped by a problem, but Mom isn’t like any other person on this planet. She’s smarter than him and we’re only now starting to all understand it.

When I get her on the phone, I ask her about her father. The man who liked cars as much as me. Maybe it’s the adult in me, but I’m starting to see Mom as a human with a life and her own stories, and not just my mother who nagged me to do my homework.

I’m grateful to have two parents. Two annoyingly, aggravating parents who I don’t always agree with. Not everyone is so lucky.

I tug Ren to my side, desperate for body heat.

We’ve remained tucked in bed for most of the trip. It’s perfect in my opinion so I’m not sure why we had to leave the room.

“That could be nice,” Ren says of London. “Lennie says she and Elijah are thinking about going. She wants to know more about his British side.”

Personally all I think anyone needs to know about Elijah is he’s a wanker. But I guess no one asked my opinion.

My head sinks onto her shoulder. I don’t need to vacation with my brother.

But Ren is enthralled. “Oh, and we could take Isolde!”

“She’s not even from London.” Plus, is she conveniently forgetting the fact that someone is actively trying to kill her?

“But it’s her country of origin. She could show us around.”

“Because that’s exactly what London needs—you, Len, and Isolde running around.”

“Isn’t it perfect?” She’s all in on the idea now. We may as well invite Max and Russ.

“Won’t Isolde feel like a fourth wheel?”

There’s a sneaky look on her face, her cheeks still bright red .

“What?” I ask.

“We could bring Trevino along.”

“Really?”

She swats my hand away, tugging out of my grasp. I’m cold and lonely and she’s only two inches away.

“And how would Trevino feel if we invited him?” I question.

“He’ll love it,” Ren says with confidence only she agrees with.

I tuck her back to my side. The water looks even icier from this vantage point.

“I can’t feel my nose, can we go back inside?”

“I shoulda invited Isolde and Trevino here and left you behind,” she mutters.

“You’d miss me too much.” I gently turn her back to the doors. “Come on, let’s get you a Coke.”

I’m relieved when this does the trick.

She’s brought a bunch of books and she’ll happily sip on soda and relax until other activities come back into the mix. And all the meanwhile I’ll be warm instead of suffering in this ice water terrain.

We read together for several hours, her head propped on my stomach. As far as I’m concerned the moment—all the moments with her—are perfect.