Fallen Royal (Mafia Royals 4)

I also had a private stash of Vodka near the tree.

I grab it and sit in the warm water, wearing nothing but my black briefs. I lean back and look up at the stars.

And I count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

How many days?

Weeks?

Months?

Or is it worse? Is it mere hours?

I immediately want to call Nikolai and ask.

Instead, I sit there and try to be thankful that I have people who love me, who care for me, that when it mattered, I protected her—and saved him.

“He can never know,” I whisper in a rough voice. “You can’t… you can’t tell him.”

Nikolai sighs, hanging his head. “He should know.”

“No,” I say again. “He can never fucking know.”

“It should have been Junior or Valerian, even King. Why did it have to be you, Maksim? Why?”

“Because I owe him everything—we all do—and I was asked to do one thing. If I can’t do this one thing, what worth do I have to this family? To my friend? No, it needs to be me. They’ve all sacrificed enough; it’s finally my turn to bleed.”

It was one of the last lucid conversations I had with Nikolai before the sickness started before I had to take the drugs.

I hear someone walking toward me. The property is like a compound, armored and protected, but still, I grab the knife I always keep next to the rock and wait.

Izzy’s head pops around the corner. “Phoenix said I could find you here.”

“Phoenix,” I grumble. “He knows all things.”

“Pretty much.” She shrugs, then wades into the water after kicking off her flip flops. She’s still in her gray jersey knit dress, it hugs her soft curves, and I love it.

I also want to get it wet, so it sticks more.

“I know that look.” She laughs; the water is up to her knees. “Go get your rocks off elsewhere, Leg Day skipper.”

“Again, one time!” I splash her.

She laughs and splashes me back.

I want to say it should always be like this.

But it’s too hard to get the words out of my mouth.

I’m so tired of fighting.

But I have to do it.

“You can get in if you want,” I say, mouth dry, vision blurring yet again when she’s close because my control is nil.

Hah, nil, fun word.

Control it, control it, control it.

I exhale.

I breathe in the outside air.

I feel the warm water on my skin.

I’m calm again.

Rustling sounds. I look up; she’s in nothing but athletic black spandex shorts that leave zero to the imagination as they ride up her ass and a pink sports bra. “It’s colder than I remember.”

It’s the same temperature, but she nips out anyway— from the water or me? I’m not sure, but it’s doing jack shit for my self-control.

“Come here,” I whisper, my vision tunneling.

I pull myself back, I breathe her in.

She wades over to me.

I draw her down; her legs fall on either side of me, her expression nearly drunk as my cock presses between her thighs.

It was never just sex with her.

It was love at first insect.

Love at first laughter.

Love at first sight is complete bullshit—it’s always ever been love at every first with Izzy Abandonato

And now, she doesn’t even know, we’re done experiencing our firsts.

We’re experiencing our lasts.

Our last kiss.

Our last moments.

Our last laughter.

Our last hug.

Fight.

Our last everything.

And I can’t even fucking tell her.

She cups my face. “I really, really hated Jenna.”

“Oh, good. Exactly what I wanted to discuss with your hot body straddling my cock. Please continue. What exactly did you hate? Should we make a list? Love a good pro and con.”

She pinches my nipple.

“Hey!”

She pinches the other. I bat her hand away.

I always forget how easy it is to love someone so good.

It’s like simply existing.

I wrap her long dark hair around my hand, fisting it and bringing her mouth close. “Can we forget we aren’t friends right now? Can you forget you still hate me and that I hurt you? For just ten seconds?”

“Why ten seconds?” she asks, blue eyes peering into mine like she can see my soul. “Why not eleven or twelve?”

I tug harder. “Pain in my ass, always asking questions.”

She squirms on my lap. “Pain in my ass, always asking for favors.”

“Fine, twelve. I’ll give you two extra seconds.”

She gasps. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I can’t say no to a good bargain. You upped it to twelve, so twelve it is. Can you just be Izzy right now? Can you just… exist under the stars, no love, no war, no enemies, no killing, no fighting. Can I just… be with you?”

Tears fill her eyes. “I wish I could say I could do twelve seconds and forget all of those things.” She presses a hand to my heart. “But I can’t.”

“Then lie,” I beg, feeling the tunnel vision, the anger, the tears of unfairness. “Lie to me.”

“Maks…” A tear spills down onto her cheek.