Page 17

17

Lev

I wake up to silence.

Soft light filters through the windows, casting faint shadows over the room. The early morning sun stretches across the silk sheets and highlights the curve of her bare shoulder.

Alina is lying on her stomach, her dark hair spilling over the pillow. One slender arm is tucked beneath her face, her lashes resting against her cheeks.

She looks peaceful and Innocent.

Her breathing is soft and steady. The sheet has slipped low down her back, exposing the smooth line of her spine and the dip of her waist.

My chest tightens painfully.

My hand itches to reach out and brush the hair from her face—to trace my fingers down the curve of her back and feel her melt beneath my touch again. But I don’t.

My clothes are on the chair near the window. I move silently, sliding into my pants and buttoning up my shirt with mechanical precision. My movements are deliberate and controlled. My face is a mask of cold indifference.

But inside?

I’m unraveling.

Alina shifts in her sleep, her lips parting slightly. My breath catches. She looks so young. So vulnerable. I swallow hard and sit down on the edge of the bed. My hand trembles as I push her hair back from her face. She sighs softly, leaning into my touch even in sleep. My chest constricts.

What the fuck am I going to do with these feelings between us?

I kissed her, touched her, and fucked her again. I gave in to everything I’ve been trying to fight, and I know I will never be able to stay away from her.

At this point, my best option is to walk away. I have to, because this isn’t just about me. It’s about everyone close to us, especially Viktor. The man who pulled me out of the gutter and gave me a purpose. The man who treats me like a brother. And I repaid him by tarnishing his sister.

There’s no coming back from this. I rise slowly, my hand trailing from Alina’s face down to her shoulder. My fingers linger there for a moment longer than they should. Her skin is so soft beneath my hand. I lean down, brushing my lips over her temple. Her brow furrows slightly, but she doesn’t wake.

I linger for half a breath. Just long enough to memorize the exact way she feels beneath my hand. The scent of her skin. The sound of her soft breathing.

And then I let go.

I stand and step back from the bed.

Cold air rushes into the space between us.

Alina sighs in her sleep, shifting onto her side. Her arm slides across the mattress where I’d been lying. She’s already searching for me. My throat tightens, but I don’t turn back.

I slip into my jacket and cross the room. I hesitate at the door, my hand on the handle. My gaze drifts back toward her one last time. She’s still sleeping, looking completely vulnerable and completely mine.

And I’m walking away.

I step through the door and close it behind me.

I don’t know how long I’ve been driving.

The black Maserati MC20 glides down the empty highway, the city lights fading into the rearview mirror. I’ve been driving for hours, but I have no destination.

The sun has already risen high in the sky. The skyline of New York is a jagged blur in the distance. My hands tighten on the steering wheel. The leather creaks beneath my grip, while her scent clings to my skin.

I scrub my face with my hand, trying to clear the haze from my mind, but it doesn’t work. Alina is everywhere. Her laughter, the way her lips parted beneath mine, the softness of her skin beneath my hands—it’s burned into me. My muscles coil as I remember the way she looked at me. So open. So trusting. Like she thought I would stay this time around. But here I am, running away in the middle of the night like a fucking coward.

I punch the steering wheel hard.

The car swerves slightly on the empty highway. My jaw locks as I steady the wheel, and my pulse thunders beneath my skin.

I should have done this earlier, walked away from it all. At least then, I would have left her pure, as she is meant to be. I have tasted her twice. And it will not stop if I do not leave.

My phone buzzes in the console beside me. I already know who it is.

Viktor.

I pick it up and stare at the screen for a long moment, then type out a message.

Me: I’m stepping down. I think it’s best for everyone if I disappear.

My thumb hovers over the send button. Alina’s face flashes through my mind. The way she smiled at me. The sound of her voice when she whispered my name. I close my eyes and hit send. A moment later, the phone buzzes with his angry reply.

Viktor: What the fuck is this? Have you suddenly gone mad?

I don’t reply. Instead, I turn off the phone and toss it onto the passenger seat. My jaw is tight as I press my foot harder on the accelerator. The car speeds down the highway, the blurred trees and endless pavement swallowing me whole. I’ve cut ties before, walked away from things that should matter.

But this?

This feels like I’ve carved out a piece of my soul and left it bleeding in that hotel room. My hands tighten on the wheel as the car races through the empty stretch of road ahead. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t stop driving.

Alina

I wake up to the sound of silence.

The room is still dim, and the morning sun is casting pale light through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The silk sheets are warm beneath my skin, and the air is thick with the lingering scent of him.

Lev.

A sleepy smile tugs at my lips as I stretch beneath the covers. My body aches in the best way—every muscle tender, my skin still burning from where his hands touched me. My heart hums with quiet happiness.

Last night felt… right.

It was like finally crossing a line we were always meant to cross. My hand slides across the sheets, searching for him. But the bed beside me is cold. I open my eyes to find the room empty.

I sit up, my pulse quickening. My gaze sweeps toward the chair by the window where Lev’s clothes were last night.

Gone.

My chest tightens painfully. I push the sheets back and slide out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool marble floor.

"Lev?"

No answer.

I cross the room and open the door to the bathroom. The lights are off, and the bathroom is empty. My palms begin to sweat, and my heart begins to pound. Maybe he went downstairs. Maybe he’s just giving me space. But deep down, I know better.

There’s a kind of heaviness in the room—an emptiness in the air that feels final, and I feel a painful twist in my stomach. I return to the bed and sit on the edge, gripping the sheets in my fists. My breathing feels too loud in the quiet room.

He fucking left again.

I press my hands to my face and exhale shakily, refusing to overthink it. I go about getting ready for the day, with one goal in mind. I am going to confront Lev Ivanov and make him define what he feels. I will not let him withdraw from me again.

Later That Morning

I sit stiffly at the breakfast table in the private suite Viktor reserved for the family. The whole place is buzzing with post-event chatter—the grand opening of Viktor’s hotel was a success.

Yelena sits to my left, scrolling through her phone. Scarlett sits across from me, nursing a cup of coffee. She and Viktor’s twins are at their high table, getting ready to make a mess of any meal that is put in front of them. Scarlett insists on letting them eat certain meals themselves when it is just family at the table. She says it helps them develop their motor skills.

Whatever that means.

Viktor sits at the head of the table, his expression composed as he discusses business with one of his men standing near the door.

Where is Lev?

I push my food around my plate, feeling Yelena’s eyes flick toward me. Scarlett’s gaze lingers too, calm and assessing.

I try to act normal. Keep my expression still. Pretend that my heart isn’t splitting open beneath my ribs.

But Yelena notices.

She always does.

That evening, I’m sitting on the edge of my bed when a knock sounds on my door, and Scarlett and Yelena step into the room.

"Hey."

I offer a weak smile. "Hey." They both respond.

Scarlett closes the door behind her and sits down beside me. Her hair cascades down her back, her hand resting lightly on her knee.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett’s voice is soft.

"I’m fine."

She gives me a look. The kind of look that says don’t lie to me.

"Lev resigned."

My breath stutters.

"What!" My voice comes out sharp, cutting through the quiet.

Scarlett’s expression softens. "Viktor got a message from him this morning. He’s stepping down from the Bratva."

My heart drops straight through the floor. "No," I whisper.

Scarlett’s hand closes over mine. "I’m sorry."

I shake my head, my pulse hammering beneath my skin. "Why would he…?"

But I know why. Because he thinks this is the right thing. Because he thinks walking away from me will stop what we feel.

Yelena’s gaze softens. "Maybe he’s scared."

"He’s not scared." My voice cracks. "He feels he is doing what is right."

Yelena strokes my hand. "I’m so sorry."

My throat tightens painfully. I feel the tears coming, but I fight them back.

"He was here last night, and I thought we were finally going to be together. I thought last night meant something."

"Maybe it did," she says gently.

"Then why did he leave?" My voice is thick with hurt.

Scarlett squeezes my hand. "Perhaps because Lev isn’t used to feeling something he can’t control."

“Or maybe he needs space to process what he feels.” Yelena adds.

What they say makes sense, but if that is true, why will he resign? A cold hand squeezes my heart as I realize he is not trying to come to terms with his feelings; instead, he has walked away from me, from all he has ever known. I feel sick knowing that Lev would rather abandon his life than be with me.