The laughter that followed felt genuine, creating a brief bubble of normalcy in our surreal situation. For a moment, we were just women sharing stories and teasing each other about men, not enemies discussing morally grey criminals.
“Sometimes, the most unlikely and dangerous choice turns out to be the right one,” Jemma said, a surprising wisdom in her voice as she adjusted her wedding ring. She sure didn’t sound her age, considering she was the youngest amongst us.
I was about to respond when movement caught my eye. My body tensed instinctively as I spotted a group of menapproaching from across the compound. If something went wrong… The shift in my demeanor wasn’t lost on the others. The laughter died away as backs straightened and casual poses transformed into readiness. Even Mira and Cara, the least experienced among us, seemed to sense the change in atmosphere.
As the men drew closer, I recognized my brothers and cousins—Cristo leading with his usual commanding presence. My cousin sure was no longer the annoying boy I had been used to. Matt was slightly behind him, talking to Alex—those two could never beat the soul-mate allegations.
And then I saw Ivan next to Vince. Oh, no.
They walked slightly apart from the others, Ivan’s movements controlled and precise.
As they reached us, the dynamic shifted immediately. Vince positioned himself near Jemma, his hand brushing her shoulder in a gesture both possessive and reassuring. Alex gravitated toward Fee, whose expression softened almost imperceptibly. Cristo made a beeline for Cara, dropping onto the lounger beside her with a casual grace that nevertheless put him between her and everyone else.
Ivan remained standing, keeping a careful distance from me. The space between us felt vast and deliberate.
When his eyes found mine across the distance, electricity shot through me—a visceral reminder of his body against mine last night. But then his gaze slid away, deliberately casual, as if I were just another person at the pool.
The contrast between that coldness and last night’s intimacy hit me like a physical blow.
Was he doing this because my brothers’ presence made discretion necessary? Or was he pulling away because, for him, it was just extraordinary circumstances, and after last night, he didn’t want more?
Did I want more? Yes, no, maybe. Shit…before this, I would’ve said definitely maybe. But now…
I tried to get him to look at me—willed him to look at me.
He did. Again, with zero feelings in his eyes.
I sighed—would’ve chuckled if my whole family wasn’t present. Here I was dreaming of shit, when Ivan’s distant behavior made our situation pretty clear. He hadn’t acknowledged last night.
Was deliberately keeping his distance.
I wasn’t so naïve as to expect a confession of undying love after sex. I just…didn’t expect this abrupt shift. Didn’t deserve this either.
A part of me wanted to cross that distance, to demand an explanation for his sudden coldness. Pride and hurt wrestled with practicality and understanding…paired with a substantial dose of “Fuck him.”
If he didn’t want me, so be it. I wasn’t one to beg for attention. If he wanted to move on and pretend nothing happened—be my guest.
It was just a one-time thing. Whatever had happened between us was in the past and would create unnecessary complications and potential conflict between my brothers and the Zotovs anyway.
“Everything okay?” Mila asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“For now,” Anton answered. “Grey’s helicopter left the island ten minutes ago.”
“So what’s the plan?” Fee asked, directing her question to Alex but glancing between him and Vince.
“We wait,” I said before anyone else could answer, my voice steadier than I felt. “Confirm Grey’s actually gone, then make our move.”
Ivan’s gaze flickered to me briefly, surprise and something like approval crossing his features before his expression returned to neutral.
“Isabella’s right,” he said, addressing the group rather than me directly. “Rushing creates mistakes. We need to be certain.”
The casual way he said my full name, as if we were mere acquaintances, sent another pang through me. I matched his tone with my own indifference, refusing to let anyone see how much his distance affected me.
“How long?” Vince asked, his voice carrying the weight of authority.
“Let’s give it half an hour,” Ivan replied. “We’re tracking his movements.”
The conversation continued around me with details of security protocols and contingency plans, but I found myself observing rather than participating. The interactions between everyone fascinated me—not just what they said but what they didn’t say.
