What the hell?
“Isabella,” Grey said, his voice smooth as oil. “I appreciate you joining me.”
“Wasn’t aware I had a choice,” I replied, keeping my tone light despite the hammering of my heart. Why wasn’t Grey in those meetings? Shouldn’t he have been there, as well?
Grey smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. “We all have choices. Some are simply more…consequential than others. Let’s not waste our precious time together.”
He nodded to the man in the white coat, who approached me without hesitation. Before I could react, the guards pinned my arms, and I felt the sharp sting of a needle in my neck.
“What the hell?” I struggled, but the drug worked quickly, making my limbs heavy and my thoughts sluggish.
“A simple truth serum, mixed with a bit of a relaxant,” Grey explained, leaning forward with clinical interest. “It makes resistance…impossible. Now we’ll have an honest conversation about what you did, what you know, and what you can do for me.”
They pushed me into a chair across from Grey’s desk, the room tilting slightly as the drug took hold. I forced myself to focus, to fight the creeping warmth spreading through my veins.
“Let’s start with something simple,” Grey began, his voice echoing strangely in my ears. “Your work as Iset. Impressive, I must say. It took me a long while to make the connection.”
I pressed my lips together, determined to resist.
“The serum will take full effect in approximately two minutes,” the white-coated man informed Grey. “Her resistance is…temporary.”
Grey nodded, unperturbed. “While we wait, perhaps we can discuss your time with us. You seem to have adjusted well to your circumstances.” He steepled his fingers, studying me with uncomfortable intensity. “Ivan Zotov has been quite…attentive, hasn’t he? He seems quite protective of you. And you seem…unusually comfortable with him.”
Something in his tone made my skin crawl. The way he said Ivan’s name carried an undercurrent of possession, of authority.
“What’s your relationship with Ivan Zotov?” Grey asked, his eyes never leaving my face.
The drug pulled at me, urging me to speak. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, but the words bubbled up against my will.
“He’s…not what he seems,” I heard myself say, horrified at my lack of control. “Everyone sees the cold exterior, but inside he’s…he’s caring. Protective. Like my brothers.”
Grey leaned forward, his interest sharpening. “And is that all? Just…brotherly affection?”
I tried to look away, but my body wouldn’t obey; it was as if I’d lost control over my muscles, along with my mouth. Images flashed through my mind—Ivan’s gentle hands as he cleaned my wound; the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when I made an Austen reference; the safety I felt in his arms despite everything; when he let me use his body heat.
“He makes me feel safe,” I whispered, the truth dragged from somewhere deep inside me. “Even when I shouldn’t. Even when I know better.”
“The way he looks at me,” I continued, unable to stop the flow of words. “Like he sees past all my defenses. Like he knows me. Really knows me.”
Grey cocked his head. “That is very unlike Ivan. But you guys have quite the shared history. Maybe there is such a thing as destiny.”
“I think about him when he’s not there,” I admitted. What the fuck? Why couldn’t I shut up? But each word felt like it was being torn from my chest. “I wonder where he is, what he’s doing. If he’s thinking about me too.”
“Do you have a crush on him, Isabella?” Grey’s voice was soft now, almost sympathetic, which somehow made it worse.
The drug wouldn’t let me lie. “Yes. Maybe.”
Grey’s expression darkened. “How disappointing. I had higher hopes for you. Both of you.”
He stood and walked around the desk, and perched on the edge directly in front of me, too close for comfort.
I tried to scoot back, but apparently my legs had turned to rubber. Had the white-coat overdosed on the relaxant?
“Tell me, Isabella, how much do you know about my connection to your mother?”
The question caught me off guard. “My mother? Nothing.”
Grey studied me, then nodded slightly. “Interesting. I know you looked into her past after she died. It triggered several alarms in our system, and we had to shut down your research immediately. I assumed you’d discovered at least some of our…history.”
