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“Bullshit! I’m just supposed to believe this is all a coincidence? That Lucia Kent from fucking New York found her way to my fucking house in Chicago and is suddenly getting married to my brother?”
He’s getting more worked up the more he speaks, his body growing tenser beneath his clothes. Another reason I couldn’t love him. He always seemed to have this pent-up rage within him. Frankly, he scared me sometimes. He never hit me, but I was afraid he might.
“My real name isn’t Lucia Kent, it’s Lucia Maranzano. I’m sure that would make things easier for you to understand, Alex. I was never just Lucia Kent from New York; I had a family here. My father used to be the Don of the Italian outfit. I was a fucking princess in the Cosa Nostra. That’s how your brother and I met.”
Lies. I keep lying about our origin story for some reason. But in this situation, he really doesn’t have to know how we actually met. It’s none of his business.
“Do you seriously expect me to believe that?”
“Yes,” I answer simply.
That only makes him angrier.
“You fucking…” He starts walking toward me, rage in his brown eyes.
But he doesn’t get far. Ivan seems to get over his shock enough to step in front of me smoothly, cutting his brother off.
“Leave,” he orders in a low, commanding tone.
Alexei’s eyes widen. “You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Walk away, Alexei. I understand you’re confused right now. I am, too. We’ll discuss this matter in the morning. Now leave.”
Alexei looks at me before looking back at his brother.
“Fine, I’ll go. But have a little decency, Ivan. And don’t fucking touch her. Okay?”
I scoff.He can touch me if he wants to. Or if I want him to.
I don’t say that out loud, though.
“Go,” Ivan says again, and this time his brother listens.
He walks out of the kitchen, leaving me space to breathe for the first time in a couple of minutes. But I immediately stop breathing again when Ivan invades my space. Unlike his brother, the rage in his eyes is more muted. Less scary. It doesn’t make me want to hide. It’s actually fascinating. The clear display of emotions.
“I’m only going to ask you this once,milaya, and I need you to answer honestly. Alright?” he prompts.
I nod once, waiting for his question.
“Did you approach me that day because you knew who I was? Because you know my brother? Was this some sort of revenge ploy or a plot to get back into his life? I need to know, Lucia.”
I roll my eyes before placing a hand on his chest to push him backward because I really need some space to breathe.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Volkov,” I start, “let me remind you that you’re the one who barged into my family’s home suddenly demanding I marry you. I have no ploys or plots. I am technically an unwilling participant in your stupid plan to get me to marry you. And no, I didn’t approach you that day in the restaurant because I knew you were Alex’s brother. In fact, if I had known who you really were, I would have run like hell. Understand?”
His eyes narrow, roaming over my face like he’s trying to work out if I’m telling the truth. He must be able to ascertain or confirm because a minute later, he’s dropping my gaze and stepping even further back.
“Go to bed, Lucia,” he says after a couple of seconds.
“Are you kidding? This is a mess. What are we going to do about your ticking bomb of a brother?”
Because despite everything, I know Alexei well, and he really is a ticking bomb. There’s no telling what he’ll do next.
“I’ll take care of it,” Ivan tells me. “You’ve had a long day,milaya. Just go to bed, okay?”
Somehow, his words provide me with some level of comfort. Which I hate because I really don’t need him to be comforting me right now.
“Okay,” I say on a nod, remembering my smoothie on the kitchen island.
