Then keys jingle on the other side of the door.
The lock clicks.
And I stumble backward as the door swings open. Lev stands in the doorway with his tie loosened and his jaw tight, and his dark eyes find mine across the dim room.
"We need to talk," he says, and his voice carries an edge I haven't heard before. He sounds defeated or discouraged, not his typical in-control anger. Every ounce of frustration I have with him evaporates as I take in his posture and the way his shoulders sag. Something bad really has happened.
I open my mouth to respond, but the words won't come. I've never been good at confrontation, anyway. I'm the woman who lets people cut in front of her at the grocery store and apologizes when someone else bumps into her. I swallow my anger rather than cause a scene.
"The hit at the Mariinsky," Lev says, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "It wasn't about me, Vivika." I'm confused, and I hug my arms over my belly as I study his face. "The shooter, the men who came after us—they weren't trying to kill me."
I shake my head and hug myself tighter. "What are you talking about?"
"They were trying to kill you." He moves closer, and I take another step back until my legs hit the edge of the bed. "Whichmeans I need to be with you around the clock from now on. I can't let you out of my sight."
"That's impossible," I manage as I sink onto the mattress and stare up at him. It's as I feared it was, and I'm not sure how to feel about that. "Why would anyone want to kill me? I'm nobody. I'm just pretending to be?—"
"You're pretending to be Ana Veche, and someone wants Ana Veche dead." Lev stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "Yaros gave the order himself."
"Her own brother?" I almost feel paralyzed as I stare up at him with narrowed eyes. "Why would her brother want her dead?"
"The only reason he would do it is for power. He wants her authority and he can't have it when she's alive." Lev pulls his tie free and tosses it onto the dresser. "Something happened between them, something bad enough that Yaros would rather kill the woman he thinks is his sister than let her keep talking to his allies."
I scoot back onto the mattress because my legs won't hold me anymore. The conversation about weapons that I just overheard is gone from my mind as my thoughts swarm like angry bees. They want me dead? I signed up to help these men and now the people I’m supposed to be impressing are gunning for me. It doesn't seem fair.
"I don't understand," I say in a tiny voice. "Why would he kill his own family?"
Lev sits down beside me, and the mattress dips as he lays a hand on my knee. "Killing your own blood doesn't make sense to meeither. But Yaros only sees power. Ana stood between him and a throne, and now you're standing in her place."
"So he'll keep trying." My hands are shaking and I can't make them stop.
"Until I stop him." Lev's hand finds mine, and he weaves his fingers between mine. "I'm going to protect you, Vivika. I won't let them touch a hair on your head."
Fear is a strange thing. It has the capability of shifting everything you thought you knew and changing the course of your life. I want to hate this man for all of this because it's his fault, but in the same fucking breath I realize he may very well be the only reason I'm alive. The only reason I stay alive. And he's promising me to not let anything happen to me.
I don't know if that’s because of the sex we had or if he is developing feelings for me. And I don't care. The only thing I feel is fear, and it makes me want to cling to him.
"I'm scared," I whisper.
"I know you are." He shifts closer until his thigh presses against mine and I can see his heartbeat in his neck. "But you're safe with me."
His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from my face and he cups my cheek. The tenderness he's displaying is unholy, so powerful I'm unraveling. This isn't the man who locked me in here. Something changed when he learned they were trying to kill me, and I'm trying to understand what happened without getting whiplash. Lev Gravitch is making my heart feel something dangerous, and I like it too much.
Then his lips find mine in the darkness, and I don't pull away. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me against him until I can feel his heartbeat through his chest.
"Did you like it?" he murmurs against my mouth. "Last time, when I touched you. Did you like the way I made you feel?"
I hate myself for the answer that rises to my lips. "Very much," I breathe, remembering just how he made me feel as warmth surges to my groin.
"Do you want me to do it again?"
I nod, my breath catching as his eyes darken with intent. His thumb traces my lower lip, pulling it down until it pops back up, and I feel the heat building between us, a twisted pull that defies everything rational. He leans in, kissing me deeper, his tongue claiming my mouth until I'm breathless. Then he pulls back and his hand slides to the back of my neck, guiding me downward.
My hands tremble as I unbuckle his belt, freeing him from his pants. His dick springs out completely rock hard and I wrap my hand around the base, stroking a few times, feeling him throb. He groans and his grip tightens in my hair, urging me forward, so I take him into my mouth, the salt of his skin filling my senses.
I swirl my tongue around his head, sucking deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I bob my head. His hips buck slightly, pushing him farther down my throat, and I gag a little but don't stop. Tears prick my eyes from the effort, but the way he praises me makes it worth it.
"Good girl," he murmurs in a thick voice. "You're perfect like this, taking me so well. Look at you, so eager for my dick."
