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“You know the life we live.”
“Yes, and above all things is family. She’s family.”
“Isabella…”
“Why did you sleep with Annalise back then? Was it really just to provoke Damian?”
I narrow my eyes, attempting to maintain control over my racing thoughts. “Isabella, that’s not relevant to this situation.”
“Isn’t it?” she counters, her blue eyes piercing into mine, seeking answers. “Maybe you only claim it was to provoke Damian because there’s more to it than you’re willing to admit.”
“Enough!” My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but I can’t allow her to delve any deeper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re constantly digging deeper than you should because you’re nothing more than a spoiled brat!”
Her nose twitches. “You really are just like Damian now, aren’t you?”
She turns toward the door, about to grab the handle before flipping back around. “If you won’t let Annalise out of this house, then at least let her have some semblance of normalcy. Let her go shopping with me—just for an afternoon. It might help lift her spirits.”
I stare at her, the weight of her words pressing down on me. My instincts scream that it’s a risk, that we can’t afford any more weakness. But as I look into Isabella’s eyes, I see the desperation there, the depths to which she’ll go to protect those she loves. And I realize that I’m not so different.
“Someone could see her.”
“We’ll be careful.”
“Fine,” I concede, my voice low and grudging. “But I’m coming with you.”
“Is it really necessary for you to come along?” Isabella asks, her tone laced with concern as she glances back at me. “Can’t one of the guards take care of us?”
I grit my teeth, struggling to maintain my composure. “It’s not that I don’t trust them,” I explain, “but after what happened at the cemetery, I can’t afford to take any chances. Rival bratvas are always looking for opportunities to strike, and I won’t let anything happen to either of you. Besides, both of you struggle with following directions.”
Isabella nods before smiling. “Okay.”
“Where do you want to go first?” Annalise asks Isabella, her eyes scanning the storefronts anxiously.
“Let’s start with the clothing stores,” Isabella suggests, excitement lighting up her features. “We need to find you more stuff to wear.”
“I think my closet is full.”
Isabella grabs her wrist. “A woman’s closet can never be full.”
Annalise offers a weak smile, clearly grateful for the distraction from her troubles. As they chat animatedly about the latest fashion trends, I can’t stop my eyes from following Annalise.
She’s one of the most frustrating women I’ve ever met, up there with Isabella, who isn’t a good influence on her. But something about that is alluring to me.
As we continue our shopping excursion, I find myself wrestling with the truth that my feelings for Annalise are growing stronger with each passing moment. The desire and protectiveness I feel toward her threaten to consume me, leaving me vulnerable to the very enemies I’m trying to shield her from.
I shake off these thoughts, refocusing my attention on the task at hand—ensuring their safety and keeping my own desires firmly in check. With each step we take, I’m reminded of the potential dangers we face, particularly from rival bratvas, and the responsibility that rests on my shoulders.
“Stay close,” I warn them, my voice barely audible above the din of city life. “And remember, if anything feels off, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Isabella nods solemnly, while Annalise’s eyes meet mine, gratitude and something else—something dangerously alluring—flickering within their depths. The knowledge that I could so easily succumb to her charms only serves to heighten my vigilance.
This woman, the mother of my children, shouldn’t have an effect on me. But, she does.
The city buzzes around us as Isabella eagerly pulls me from one upscale boutique to another. The vibrant colors and textures of the clothes lining the shelves are a stark contrast to the dark, mysterious world I’ve grown accustomed to. Annalise follows closely behind, a hesitant smile plastered on her face.
“Isabella, don’t you think we’ve done enough shopping for one day?” I ask, my frustration evident in my tone. “We’ve already been to more stores than I can count, and it’s getting late.”
“Relax, Nikhil,” she replies lightheartedly, waving off my concerns as she sifts through a rack of clothes, her eyes alight with excitement. “We’re just getting started.”
