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But when it comes to Cassio, I can’t stand another thing coming between us. Even if it’s the only other person in this world who I love with all my heart.
14
CASSIO
The sight of Ilya striding down the hall from Bianka’s office creates an intense sense of déjà vu that brings me back to the first night I kissed Bianka with ringing clarity. It makes my stomach twist as I stand frozen by the same couch, unable to sit with the intense argument so clearly seeping from the other room and unwilling to burst in on them–no matter how badly I wanted to–because I have to respect Bianka’s demand that I stay out of it.
But this time, as Ilya comes back into the main room, he doesn’t storm toward the door like two years before, ignoring me in his silent rage. No, this time, he levels a deadly gaze my way as he stalks purposefully toward me. Stopping just shy of the couch that stands sentinel between us.
“If you have any respect or affection for my sister at all, you will leave her alone,” Ilya says, his deep, accented voice almost vibrating through me with an authority that rivals my father’s. “You know as well as I do that her presence here is only granted by your father’s authority, and he can take that away with the snap of a finger.”
Bianka’s feet pad softly into the room, but I don’t turn to look at her, instead keeping my eyes locked with her brother’s because I know that these might be the most important words he ever says to me. And they might very well seal my fate.
“You might think that flirting with my sister is all some kind of game, that you can havewhoeveryou want because you are a Marchetti, but I promise you, if you or your family lay a finger on her, you will learn just how far from a game this is to me. And if you hurt her–in any way–I guarantee you will not like the game that will start with me.”
Ilya doesn’t wait for a response. From the look he gives me, he doesn’t need one. He fully expects me to stay away, and honestly, I can’t argue with his reasoning. Bianka stays rooted to the spot as Ilya strides through the entryway and out the door without a backward glance.
And as the door clicks closed, I’m suddenly nervous to look at her. Because I know what I’ll find won’t be good. Steeling myself, I slowly turn to look at the girl I more than respect and care for. And pain lances through my chest.
The devastation written across Bianka’s face says it all as she stares at the door. I’m hurting her. By inserting myself in her life, I’ve formed a rift between her and her brother that’s broken her heart. And after hearing more about her past, about how hard she fought to find Ilya and form that kind of deep connection, I can’t bring myself to let it happen.
I heard the whole thing–Ilya’s reasons for wanting Bianka to stay away from me, Bianka coming to my defense. It fills my heart with warmth to know she thinks so highly of me. That she trusts me so completely, and in our short time together, I’ve earned her loyalty beyond my wildest dreams.
And what have I given her in return?One nice day at the beach and a whole lot of risk just to sneak private moments with me. I’m a complete ass.
Though it goes against every fiber of my being, I force myself to approach Bianka, who remains motionless as she stares at the front door.
“Maybe your brother is right,” I murmur as I reach her side. I know it’s a danger to my self-control, but I reach up to stroke Bianka’s cheek with the back of my fingers, drawing her eyes to me.
“What?” she gasps, shock mingling with her pain.
God, all I want to do is kiss that heart-wrenching emotion away. “I’m putting you at too much risk. I never should have been so selfish,” I chastise myself as I look deep into her teal gaze.
“While I would never do anything to hurt you–even if you chose to break up with me–my father has already threatened to kick you out of Rosehill once before. He’s unpredictable, just like your brother said, and I don’t want to put you in harm’s way.” I cup her cheek, savoring the velvety softness of her skin as I try to envision walking away.
I feel my heart tearing in two just thinking about it. An overpowering urge to kiss her consumes me, and I force the emotion down, willing myself to keep my distance.
“I should go,” I murmur past the tight knot in my chest.
“No,” Bianka says adamantly.
Her conviction catches me by surprise, and I’m stunned into silence momentarily.
“I was born into the Bratva lifestyle,” she continues, taking my hand from her cheek and gripping it fiercely.
She stares me down, her eyes brilliant with a passion that captivates me. “Even before I found Ilya, I knew who my father was. I can’t avoid my family ties, but I refuse to play the meek woman who just obeys to avoid angering the men around me. This ismylife, andIget to say how I live it and who I love.”
There’s that word again. She hasn’t said it since our night on the yacht; this time, she says it unapologetically. A powerful emotion floods me, consuming any sense of self-control or logic as I revel in the fact that Bianka wants me.
Shelovesme. Because only that could drive her to alienate her brother and risk everything to be with me. And god, but I love her too. She’s the reason I exist. She has to be because nothing and no one has ever had this kind of hold on me.
“I must have a guardian angel looking out for me,” I profess, taking Bianka in my arms and kissing her furiously.
Her passionate speech about taking control of her own life and how that means choosing me is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m painfully turned on, desperate to prove I’m worthy of her attention and faithfulness.
Bianka responds just as greedily, her legs wrapping around my waist, her ankles hooking behind me as she clings to me. My plan to leave is completely shattered, strewn in pieces across the floor as I make my way blindly down the hall toward her bedroom.
Initially, I intended for our first time together–when I finally took Bianka’s virginity–to be on a special date. I wanted to treat her right and show her just how much she means to me, prove that I know it’s meaningful–her giving all of herself to me.
