Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I know I have trust issues. After years of being who I am, they flare up from time to time. It feels like everything is beginning to crumble. The warnings from Kolya and my brothers didn’t help. I’ve taken an extreme risk marrying her, and even she knows it.
“Isabella?” She spins around and stares at me with a classic deer-in-the-headlights look. Her eyes are wide, her mouth parted. She says something in Spanish on the phone and then shoves it in her pocket.
I stare at her. “Who the hell are you talking to?” I ask, trying to tamp down my anger.
“It’s nothing.”
Oh no, she doesn’t.
“It’s not nothing. You obviously needed some privacy, and it seems we have a serious issue here. Who the fuck was that you were talking to?”
“I thought you trusted me,” she snaps.
My jaw tightens. “I do trust you.”
“Then trust me that I was talking to somebody I had to speak with. I promise everything I’ve told you is the truth.”
Why does she even say that? I wasn’t questioning whether she told me the truth. I assume she did. “Then tell me who you were talking to.”
She looks away and shakes her head. “I had to speak to Carlos’s sister. We’re friends.”
“You can’t be loyal to your family and mine at the same time,” I snap.
“Excuse me?” she snaps back. “Who said that I was being disloyal to anyone? You know what my intentions are. You know what it took for me to give you that information about LSD. I put a death sentence on my head the second I told you everything, Lev.”
I look away. “I know.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. It’s just that when you act evasive like this…”
“Is it my fault?” she says, incredulous.
“Yes. You were sneaky. You didn’t tell me who you were talking to. What the hell do you expect me to think?”
“She’s talking to someone she can’t speak to openly, but she’s promised to tell me everything so I will trust her. Look, I just wanted to keep this conversation private.”
I clench my jaw. Pushing isn’t going to get me anywhere with her. I know her too well.
“Fine, Isabella. Let’s go.” I want to ask her to show me the phone; to pull up the person she was talking to so she can prove it, but that feels like a dick move right now. I promised my brothers that I would watch out for her. I promised that I wouldn’t let her betray us.
But in the back of my mind… I can’t help but ask myself.
Can I really trust her?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Isabella
Ever since he saw me on the phone, Lev has been acting strangely distant. It is hard for me to reconcile the fact that he’s the same tender, passionate lover who took care of me on the beach—who wants to take care of me when our nights are filled with passion and our days are filled with planning, training, and preparation for what I know will be a monumental confrontation.
It's building. I know it is, and we can both feel the tension, like the climbing clicks of a roller coaster before it reaches the top, revealing the unknown ahead. I can only hope we don’t hurtle to our deaths.
I tried to get him to talk to me, but he won’t, which is totally in line with his character. I suppose I can’t blame him. It looked suspicious. I’m protective of my friend, though, and it matters to me that she trusts me, too.
We are days out before the planned attack on Javier, and Lev has barely been home. I shoot him a text, hoping he can feel my simmering anger.
Are you coming home for dinner?
I don't get a response for an hour.
Maybe.
I slam my phone on the couch and anchor my hands on my hips.
It feels like we are an old, married couple trying to navigate a new season of life, but in reality, we're just trying to figure out who we are—on the brink of something new and life changing.
One moment, I feel as if I can fully trust him. I believe he has my best interest at heart, and the two of us will rule together. Next, I am catching my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Part of me knows that I have to prove my allegiance to him, but goddamn, I need him to prove his allegiance to me, too.
Whatever.
I pick up my phone and send him another text.
I want an answer. Are you coming home or not?
I don't bother to hide the anger in my tone. I'm still his wife, at the end of the day, whether he trusts me or not, he should answer my texts.
Don't give me shit.
I will give him more than shit. I don’t respond.
When seven o’clock rolls around, I stomp off to the fridge. I spent four hours training today, and I swear I feel every muscle in my body. My calves ache, my back throbs, but I am getting stronger with every day that passes. Javier won't see what hit him. Every time my body wants to give out, every time I want to give up, I think about those women back at home. I think about what it will mean when I take my rightful position as head of LSD.