The anger drained out of me, replaced by heat. Her hands slid up my chest, and her breath brushed my jaw.
When she finally pulled away, her voice was soft. "You don't trust anyone, do you, Mikhail?"
"Trust is a weakness," I said, my grip still on her chin.
She gave a slow and wicked smile. "Then maybe I'm your biggest weakness."
I stare at her, with my pulse heavy. "Maybe you are."
Her eyes didn't waver. "Then what happens when your weakness learns how to bite?"
And for a second, everything inside me went still. I didn't know if it was a threat or a promise or maybe both. She turned away, walking toward the stairs, her voice trailing behind her.
"Dinner's waiting. Try not to ruin it with suspicion."
I watched her disappear, and every step she took felt like a question I couldn't answer. She was hiding something, and I could feel it like a shadow in my own chest. But even asthe thought burned in my head, another feeling crawled up my spine.
If she ever betrayed me, would I protect her? Even from myself?
**********
The penthouse was quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. It was midnight, and everyone was gone except me, and my mind refused to rest. I picked up my phone and dialed. "Yuri."
His voice came through, low and tired. "Boss?"
"I want eyes on Isabella."
There was a pause. "You mean surveillance ?"
"I mean everywhere," I said. "Every step she takes, every person she talks to, and every car that passes her."
There was silence again, then slowly, "You think she's betraying you?"
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the glass ceiling above. "No," I said quietly. "I think she's too calm for someone living with a devil."
Yuri didn't argue. "Understood, boss," he said before hanging up.
I sat there for a while, fingers drumming on the table. My chest felt tight, and it wasn't just suspicion but something worse, like fear. The fear of losing control, of losing her.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Every sound in the house felt louder than usual. The faint hum of the security system, evenIsabella's soft breathing beside me. She slept like peace itself, and that, somehow, scared me more than anything.
I stared at the ceiling until dawn crept through the curtains. Her arm moved in her sleep, falling gently across my chest. I didn't move, I didn't even breathe.
When her eyes opened, she smiled softly. "You didn't sleep again," she whispered.
I kissed her forehead, pretending to be calm. "Too much work."
She hummed, unconvinced, and got out of bed. The scent of her perfume lingered, that same scent that followed me all morning, like a ghost that wouldn't let go.
**********
Roman simply walked straight to the bar and poured himself a whiskey, sitting down like he owned the place. Like he didn’t just call me for access to come up.
"You're losing control," he said.
I looked up from my glass. "Good evening to you, too."
He leaned back with his sharp eyes. "Don't act like you don't know what I mean. She's her father's daughter, Mikhail. She plays the game better than you think."
