Page 41 of The Brutal Arrangement (The Ivanov Syndicate #2)

LUCY

C haos ensued.

As if the hellish experience of Grigory being delusional and ordering me to be killed wasn’t enough for one day, Sloane freaked me out in the apartment.

It was all my fault. In hindsight, now that I could relax with Damon in bed a couple of hours later, I realized that.

“It’s all my fault,” I told him, covering my face with my hands.

He chuckled, pulling me against him. “Trust me, it’s not.”

“It’s my fault Maxim’s making her marry him now!”

Shaking his hand, he held me closer to entice me to calm down and sleep with him. Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind after the day I’d had. I wasn’t keyed up and full of too much energy because of the fear from my father-in-law accusing me of being a spy.

It was the commotion that came from spending time with Sloane.

I didn’t need to think too hard about why Damon told me that he had something to take care of after he got me out of the dungeon in the basement.

That kind guard down there, the one who’d put me in a cell and told me not to worry while he shoved the other two guards in another cell, hinted at retribution coming for those who’d obeyed Grigory in the state he was in.

My husband, my protector, intended to punish those two guards who hadn’t listened to me beg in the elevator. That pair of Ivanov men had signed their death sentence when they listened to a crazed man order me to be taken away.

I knew, without having to dwell on it, that when Damon told me he had business to take care of that he was going down there to kill those two men.

Maxim and Saul had gone with them. I glanced over my shoulder to see the brothers head off as a team, but Sloane tried to distract me, keeping me company in the apartment.

“Does it ever…” I winced, unsure how to even ask her this.

“Does it bother me that they kill others?” She nodded. “At first, it did. I’m like you, Luce.”

I loved how she shortened my name. It was a true sign of her seeing me as a friend—as if her standing up for me to Anastasia wasn’t proof enough.

“I wasn’t born into this Mafia stuff. I was just a nobody. A stripper. Just an ordinary woman trying to survive.”

That was how I saw myself, too. Pulled into this violent world but lacking the inherent understanding of it all.

“But when I realized that Maxim only killed to protect me, it changed my perspective.” She sighed, squeezing me closer to her side. “It’s a work in progress. That’s the most I can say about living in this family. You take it day by day and just…” She shrugged.

“I know.” And deep down, I wasn’t burdened with guilt that those two men were being killed right now.

I hadn’t done anything to ensure they’d die by my husband’s hands.

They’d chosen to deny me help. They decided not to call Maxim or Damon and see if they should follow Grigory’s orders.

They were facing the consequences of their actions, not mine.

Sloane was perceptive, though, and as I let her into my apartment, she was quick to realize how it did weigh on me. She was chatty and funny, distracting me, but at no time did she mock me or humor me.

We started by walking around with me showing her the renovations I envisioned for a nursery room, and she gave me her pointers and ideas too. Like two pregnant women brainstorming, we’d passed the time with a companionship I’d never dared to think I could find.

After we moved to the couch and sat back to relax, waiting for Damon and Maxim to come up to us, she decided to make some popcorn. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I told her to help herself.

When she brought back the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of flavoring spray to add to it, it was a game of Murphy’s law. What could go wrong, did.

She was clumsy and dropped the bowl instead of setting it on the coffee table.

Then as we both got on our hands and knees to pick it up, laughing at her clumsiness that she swore she never had until she was pregnant, her elbow hit the flavoring and knocked that to the couch.

She panicked that it would stain, so I hurried to get paper towels to clean it, telling her that we’d take care of it.

I came back and saw her still on her hands and knees, picking up popcorn. Since she was wearing white shorts and was bent over, it was very obvious that she had dark stains on her bottom. My mind instantly went to the fear of her spotting again.

“Sloane! You’re bleeding!”

She turned, frowning. “What? No, I’m not.” Twisting suddenly seemed to pull a muscle on her side, and she winced and put her hand there, which I misinterpreted as her sensing pain in her stomach.

“Stay there. I’m calling for help!” I held my hands up, willing her to just freeze and not endanger herself or her baby any further.

“No. Lucy. Calm down. I’m fine—” Hurrying to get up, she blinked and staggered like she’d faint.

“You’re not fine!” I urged her and guided her onto the couch. “Please. Just wait while I call for help.”

“Lucy! Take a deep breath and listen to me. I’m fine!”

Her protests couldn’t fit into my mind. Panic overrode me as I called Damon, praying that he was finished with those guards. Fortunately, they were, and all three brothers rushed up here to find me soothing Sloane, who was annoyed more than in pain.

Maxim didn’t listen to a single word of protest that she was fine.

Scowling and so worried that she was hurt, or that the baby wasn’t okay, he picked her up and took her straight to the hospital.

Saul went with them while Damon stayed with me, trying to calm me down from the fear that something could’ve happened to her.

And in the end, nothing had.

Via a video call as they waited to be checked out, a grumpy Sloane frowned at the screen while a smiling and slightly sheepish Maxim told us it was a false alarm.

“I accidentally sat on the damn bottle of popcorn oil,” Sloane said. “When you ran to get a towel in the kitchen, I leaned back and got some on me in the worst place possible.”

I cringed. “Oh.”

“And when I turned, I pulled a muscle in my side that’s been a minor issue since before I got pregnant, from a bad fall off the pole at the club one time.”

Cue another wince from me.

I hated that I could’ve fallen so deep into hysteria and panic like that and not kept a level head. “But you almost fainted.”

“No, I didn’t.” She huffed, glaring at Maxim for a moment. “Since the last time I had a scare, the real one, the doctors warned me that I could feel lightheaded if I got up too quickly. Going from kneeling to standing like that was the exact way I could experience that harmless sensation.”

“So…” I bit the inside of my cheek. “No scare?”

She sighed, softening her expression. “Not that time.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied.

“I’m not,” Maxim said, leaning more into the screen and blocking her. “I appreciate your looking out for her.”

“Okay, I’m not fragile,” she insisted. “I’m not delicate. I’m pregnant. Like millions of other women—” She growled and shook her head. “Just you wait, Luce. Wait ’til Damon’s crazy protective of you too.”

He scowled. “Are you implying I’m not already?”

I patted his thigh. “No, that’s not what she’s implying.

” But I saw how sensitive he might be on that note after this morning.

It had taken me a long time to explain to him that he didn’t slack in protecting me earlier today.

Just because he wasn’t here didn’t mean that he’d abandoned me or neglected to keep me safe.

Grigory’s situation was complicated, and it wouldn’t happen again.

Everyone in the organization would heed Maxim’s reminder that he was the boss right now, and Grigory’s mind wasn’t to be trusted yet, regardless of how long he’d been the boss before he was poisoned.

“I told you that I was fine,” Sloane said to me, then to Maxim again. “You seriously need to listen to me. If anything is wrong, I will tell you.”

“Sorry,” I told her again, hating that my fear for her had snowballed like that.

“I’m not mad at you, Luce.” She gave me a small smile. “It shows that you give a shit about me, you know?”

“I do,” I said, also smiling. “I really do. I’m so glad I met you and we can share these experiences together. Well, not quite like it turned out today. I’ll listen to you when you say you’re okay. I’ll trust you when you say that.”

Maxim nodded. “I’m glad you have each other too. That’s just one more reason we’re getting married tomorrow.” He gave her a stern look. “Then you’ll really be sisters.”

Sloane shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maxim, that’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not.”

Damon and I glanced at each other, surprised by this turn of events.

When I asked Sloane about when she and Maxim would marry, she only replied that they hadn’t set a date yet because she wouldn’t marry him until Nik was home.

It only seemed right, and I thought that was sweet of her to want Maxim to have his whole family there for the event.

“It is,” Sloane argued.

“And I’m saying it’s not.” Maxim ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t handle that fucking heart-attack-like panic of another pregnancy scare?—”

“But it wasn’t a scare! Nothing happened. Lucy and you all just assumed and?—”

“No, Sloane.” He gripped her chin and kissed her hard to silence her. “We’re getting married tomorrow. I don’t want to live with the fear of losing you or our baby and not have you be mine .”

“I understand that, I do. But?—”

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” he repeated. “I want to make sure that you are mine, legally, so you are protected no matter what scares pop up. I have to make sure this baby will be safe with my name too.”