Page 28

I pulled the door open. “Get out,” I growled at Larissa. She paled as she exited the car and, for some reason, stumbled. Without thinking, I reached out, steadying her by the arm.

She looked up at me and blinked with a flicker of hope that I wasn’t angry. But I was, and I pulled my hand away.

“Inside, now.”

She walked weakly beside me. Good. I wanted her to feel afraid, wanted her to repent and see my anger. Inside, I let her straight to her bedroom and made sure she entered first, before closing the door behind me.

“You ran!” I said, watching as she backed against a wall.

“Gio, listen—”

“Last night, you were all cozied up in my arms. This morning, you took the first chance you could get and ran. I should have known. I should have known.”

I paced up and down as I spoke, my thoughts a conflicted mess.

“Gio, known what?” she asked, in a near whisper.

I whirled to face her. “Three hours you’ve been gone. Three fucking hours to plan your escape back to your brothers, no doubt. I trusted you, Larissa. I trusted you so much that when Caspian left, I thought you were reading around the house somewhere, taking some alone time. But, you betrayed me!”

Larissa wrapped her arms around herself, the color washing from her face.

“Tell me,” I asked. “Did you have a nice meeting with Dom? Did you share all my family’s little secrets with him?”

She froze, those ocean eyes widening. “What? I would nev—”

“Don't play stupid, Larissa. It doesn't suit you. What did you tell him? How long have you been planning to run back to your brothers? When did you plan for him to meet you at the mall? Did you call him using my phone?”

“I didn't—”

“Don't lie to me!” I rarely raised my voice, but it thundered now. “For weeks you've been here, playing the part, making me believe we were...” I couldn't finish. What exactly had I believed we were? “Was it all an act? Waiting for the right moment to betray me?”

Larissa's face hardened with anger. “If I wanted to escape, I would be gone already. I've had dozens of opportunities.”

I sniggered with anger. “And waste all the information you've been gathering? No, you're smarter than that. You needed time.”

“Information?” She stepped toward me with her arms outstretched. “What could I possibly tell my family that they don't already know about you? Your business isn't exactly a mystery to them. Neither is your family.”

“You’ve always been a liar,” I snarled. “I should have known the whole innocent thing was an act the whole wretched time. But to imagine you’d stoop so low as to share my bed to convince me otherwise…” I spoke before I thought, my heart entangled with the hurt of betrayal.

But then, pain flashed across her face, and even in my fury, I knew I’d crossed a line. But something within me held me back from apologizing—not after what she’d done.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, tears gathering in her eyes. “You know nothing about me if you think I'd use... that... to spy for my brothers.” A tremor ran through her voice.

I grabbed her wrist when she tried to push past me. “And I'm supposed to believe that? After everything your family has done to mine?”

“Let go of me.” Her voice lowered dangerously.

“Not until you tell me the truth.”

“I am telling you the truth!” she shouted, yanking against my grip. “But you're too blinded by your own paranoia to see it! You think everyone is as calculating and cold as you are. “

That cut deep.

“I know you'd sacrifice anyone if Caspian asked you to.” Her eyes flashed with something like disappointment. “Including me. That’s why you think I’d do the same, isn’t it?”

“And you wouldn't do the same for Gastone?” I countered, releasing her wrist but not backing away. “We're not so different, you and I.”

“The difference is I would stand for the right, the truth.” She stabbed a finger against my chest. “You act like you're better than them, more civilized, but you're just as brutal.”

My temper. “You think I'm pretending? Everything I've done is true to myself. Including how I've treated you.”

“By keeping me prisoner? By following me? By accusing me of betrayal the moment you see me doing something you don’t like?” Larissa's cheeks flushed crimson with anger. “That's not how you treat someone you care about, Giovanni.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration making my movements jerky. “What was I supposed to think? You disappear for hours, meet with a man who works for your brother, and come back acting like nothing happened.”

“You were supposed to trust me!” Her voice cracked on the last word. “After everything we've...” She swallowed hard. “I thought we were beyond this.”

“Trust is earned.” The words tasted bitter.

“And I haven't earned it?” She looked wounded now, the fight draining from her. “What more do you want from me, Gio?”

“I want—” I began, but stopped when I noticed her sway slightly. “Larissa?”

She blinked rapidly, one hand reaching for the back of the sofa. “I'm fine. Don't change the subject.”

But she wasn't fine. The flush of anger had drained from her face, leaving her unnaturally pale. A sheen of sweat had broken out across her forehead.

“You don't look fine,” I said, anger giving way to immediate concern.

“I said I'm fine.” She tried to straighten, to continue our argument, but her knees buckled.

I caught her before she hit the floor, my hands gripping her waist. She felt small and fragile against me, despite the fire in her eyes. “You're not fine. Sit down.”

“Don't tell me what to do,” she mumbled, yet she didn't resist as I guided her to the couch.

I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. She didn’t have a fever, but she was weak. Very weak.

“I'm just angry,” she protested weakly and tried to stand, but she became dizzy, so I had to force her to sit again.

“Angry doesn't make you collapse.” I walked to her bedside table and brought back a glass of water. “Drink this.”

She took the glass with trembling hands, and I had to help her steady it. When had she last eaten? Had she been feeling ill before our fight?

“How long have you felt sick?”

Larissa sipped the water but avoided my eyes. “It came on suddenly. But… I was a little tired this morning.”

Could it be the stress that brought this on? I'd been bellowing at her, accusing her, when she might already have been unwell. My hands shook with the guilt of it.

“Let me help you to bed,” I said, setting the glass aside.

She looked about to argue but closed her mouth when another wave of dizziness visibly washed over her. I didn't wait for permission, just scooped her into my arms and carried her over.

“I can walk,” she protested.

“I know you can,” I murmured into her hair. “But you don't have to.”

I gently placed her on the mattress and helped her out of her shoes. She shivered, and I pulled the comforter over her.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she asked, softly like a confused child. “You were just accusing me of betraying you.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, studying the defiance still lingering in her eyes even as exhaustion claimed her.

“Because...” I started, uncertain how to articulate all the mixed feelings. “Because even if you did meet with Dom to betray me, you're still...” Mine. That’s what I wanted to say, but it didn’t feel right under these circumstances. “You're still under my protection.”

Her laugh was weak but genuine. “That's the most backward apology I've ever heard.”

“It wasn't an apology.” But I found myself smiling slightly, the tension between us shifting.

“Liar.” Her eyes drifted closed. “You're terrible at being the bad guy, Giovanni Lebedev.”

I brushed a strand of damp hair from her face, taken aback by her kindness after all the ugliness that had spewed between us. “Rest now,” I said, moving to stand, but her hand caught mine.

“Stay.” It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a demand either. It was a request.

I hesitated for only a moment before slipping off my shoes and stretching out beside her on the bed, on top of the covers while she remained beneath them.

“I did meet Dom,” she whispered, eyes still closed. “But not to betray you. Never that.”

“We'll talk about it tomorrow,” I said, my voice rougher than intended.