And there’s no shame in that. At least I can own my emotions. At least I can confront my demons head on. At least I’m not a broken shell of a human being.
“You know the irony of this stupid fucking tragedy?” I snap. “I actually did have feelings for you. I did actually care for you. But it’s more obvious now than ever that you don’t care about me. You never did, you never will, you never can. Maxim may have been using me at first, but at least he found room in his world for love in the end. But you? To you, I’m nothing but a tool to be used and discarded. I was a fool to think that we had a connection at all.”
He doesn’t bother disputing any of it.
And that hurts most of all.
It’s agony to see the blank, disinterested look in his eyes.
“You were never planning on letting me go, were you?” I ask, the sob catching in my throat. “You were just trying to catch me out.”
Isaak nods slowly. “You’re much too valuable to give up now.”
Again, he knows that’s going to hurt me. So he flings the words at me like unsheathing a cruelly sharp blade. I hate him in that moment. I hate his cruelty and his uncompromising nature.
Most of all, I hate the man who robbed him of his childhood and the ability to love openly and unreservedly.
“You think you’ve won, Isaak. But all you have is power. It’s nothing compared to the love of a partner, the love of a child. You have none of those things.”
“Nor do I want them,” he scoffs. “They’re only liabilities that raise the stakes.”
“You don’t want a family?” I ask tremulously.
“I have a family. The Bratva is my family.”
“The Bratva isn’t going to warm your bed at night.”
“My victories do,” he snaps. “And in the event I want more, I’ll pick a woman and she’ll fall into my bed without a second thought. Just like you did.”
The venom in his voice is meant to wound. But even though I cringe, I recognize what he’s trying to do. And I realize he wouldn’t be trying to do it unless he cared.
Just a little bit.
I move forward, buoyed by this new conviction. “I know I’ve fought you on that in the past, pretended as though you manipulated me into your bed. But I’m not going to do that now. You didn’t force me. I gave myself to you willingly. You were right before, Isaak: I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’d never met a man like you before. You were strong and powerful and so confident. I never thought you’d look my way. But you did and it changed my world. Literally.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath and power on.
“So yes, I did want you. But I was a fool to lose myself to the fantasy of you. Because underneath all that beauty and bravado, you’re just a megalomaniac without a conscience. Or at least, that’s what you’re trying to be.”
My words are coming faster and faster. Now that I’ve gotten going, it’s hard to stop. The fact that he’s just standing there, staring at me, makes it easier for me to keep spilling all the things I’ve spent months trying to illuminate.
“Because some part of you feels like you have something to prove to your father. You’d rather be a robot and a monster than admit that you’re a man with real feelings.”
His mouth splits into a slow, menacing grin. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, do you?”
I shrug, refusing to be intimidated. “Maybe I do.”
“I’ve never let anyone in. You’re no different.”
“I think that’s just what you want me to believe.”
He laughs heartlessly. “You’re flattering yourself here.”
“Then answer me this,” I challenge. “Why does the fact that I have a baby with Maxim make you so damn angry?”
His eyes flash with warning, but I’m not about to back down now. I press my chest into his. I have to crane my neck back to look up at him, but I don’t so much as blink when I meet his gaze.
“You’ve been trying to give the illusion that I’m the one with all the feelings and you’re the one pulling the strings. But you’ve been inside me, Isaak. I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you come. I know you feel more than you want me to believe.”
I raise my hand, ready to graze my hand across his cheek—when he grabs my wrist and twists it back.
“You’re hurting me,” I say calmly.
“That’s what happens when you play a dangerous game, kiska.”
“I thought you liked games,” I retort. “Especially the dangerous ones.”
“You’re an amateur, Camila.”
“I’m also a fast learner.”
“Not fast enough.”
I narrow my eyes, aware that his erection is stabbing me in the thigh. “Tell me something, Isaak: have you slept with anyone else since I became your wife?”
His eyes tense. For the first time since he came down here, he falters.
And for the first time since we met, I’m sure.
“You’ve haven’t, have you? You’ve been faithful to me.”
I laugh in amazement. I feel so alive and all-powerful, like everything is crystal clear and all the truths are in my hands and all I have to do is look around to see the complete and total picture of everything that Isaak has spent months and years trying to hide and disguise.
“Faithful to your fake wife, the one you forced into marriage to get back at your cousin. I think you’ve forgotten something: you married me, Isaak. You gave yourself away in that one move. The man who doesn’t want a wife or a family. You wanted me though, didn’t you? You wanted me worse than you’ve ever wanted anything in your entire miserable life.”
He grabs me suddenly and swings me around, then slams me against the wall so hard that the breath leaves my body in a flowing burst.
“Yes, kiska, I wanted you,” he growls, his lips trailing along my arched neck. “I fucking wanted your body. I wanted the sweet delights of your pussy. And I got it.”
I meet his eyes. We’re half an inch apart. I can practically count the eyelashes fanning his stare. “Great. You’ve had me. So if you really don’t give a shit about anything, why isn’t that enough for you?”
I can feel the heat of his lips. I know what’s about to happen. So does he. My pussy is throbbing in anticipation of the inevitable.
And just when we’re about to come together in the storm we’ve created, the door flies open.
“Isaak!”
Isaak turns around, although half his body still stays pressed against mine.
“What the fuck is it?” he growls at Bogdan in the doorway.
“The fucking cops are at our gates.”
“The cops?”
Bogdan nods. “Eric Keller is at the helm. Someone tipped them off about Camila’s whereabouts.”
“Fuck,” Isaak snarls. He grabs me by the wrist and tows me out of the room.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can finish this.” He’s forcing me through the house so fast that I trip again and again, but he doesn’t let me fall, nor does he slow down. “Bogdan, hold them off for as long as you can.”
“They have a warrant, Isaak.”
“Stall them!” he barks. We stumble down a flight of stairs into a darkened space I didn’t know existed?”