Ruthless Secrets (Elites of Macedon High 2)

“To see if you’re as my brother says.”

I cock my head curiously to the right. “And what does he say I am?”

He meets my gaze, a strange zap of recognition passing between us. Mikhail is just a kid. And he’s as warped by this world as we are. His father probably commends the way he lives his life, acting more like an adult than his brother. But what he doesn’t realize is that Lev is every bit more the adult for every action Mikhail thinks makes him a man.

Lev will always be his better.

“He says you’re loyal,” Mikhail responds in a low voice. “I’ll go get him.”

I’m frozen in place as he wanders to the door and leaves me in stunned silence. Speechless hardly feels like the right word. It’s almost terrifying how much faith Lev has put into me—but it’s also reassuring.

When Lev appears in the office, we stare at each other for a long moment. His eyes glimmer with the kind of hope I always harbored when I looked at him. And now, he’s looking at me like that.

God, I can’t believe it.

He takes my hand, dismisses the guard at the door, and leads me quietly to the guesthouse. Standing in the simple living room brings back the memory of me making love to him here. Because that’s how it is with Lev—it’s not sex. It’s affection. It’s pure.

His hands roll over my shoulders and draw me into a warm embrace. I slump into his arms, resting my head back against his shoulder. “I’m going with you, Lev. I want to leave.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “I can’t do this life of being a Mafia wife—and I shouldn’t have to do it. It’s my life, not my mother’s or the Somervilles’.”

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

I flip around in his arms and slip my hands under his shirt, feeling the excited jolt of his heart when my fingers make contact with his chest. “You think so?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“If Amos or any of the other fathers want my father’s empire, they can fucking have it. I want nothing to do with it.”

He caresses my cheek, sweeping his thumb under my left eye. The gesture is so sweet that I practically melt into him, my eyelids fluttering closed when he continues stroking my skin. Like this, it’s so simple. It feels like we’re already in England. The weather is cold, but the cottage is warm, the hearth cleaned up and ready to host a fire.

Our neighbors are quiet. The market is just down the street. Maybe we live on a cobblestone road with plenty of bushes and flowers. Maybe the weather stays dreary most times, but the pockets of sunshine are spent out back on the patio with a couple of drinks. I can see us building a real life over there, a family.

My eyes shoot open. I can see myself starting a family with Lev.

“I don’t want to live a life wondering if I’ll die at any given second—shot down like my father in a hail of fucking bullets.” My lower lip quivers. “Please, Lev. I don’t want to live like that…”

Tears flood my vision, inspiring me to bury my face in his shoulder. I’m crunched against him with his arms tightly wound around my body, shivering uncontrollably as I recall those images repeatedly. My father got shredded like a goddamn target at the gun range. Every bullet that drilled into his body punctured me in a way that can’t be healed.

I feel it now, those bleeding wounds that were untended. The unending madness it produced lurks in the background, a web of lies, pain, and deceit that refuses to be put to rest. I’m right in the middle of it like a fly, and I can see the spider coming for me. I can see it preparing to trap me here.

Lev kisses my forehead, my stained cheeks, and then my neck, whispering, “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. I’m right here.”

“I don’t want it…” I trail off as a sob rises, causing me to choke. I pinch my lips together and burrow deeper into his shoulder, allowing his strength to comfort me.

Featherlight fingers tangle in the hair just above my neck. I hear Lev’s voice resonate in his chest, the thick vibration soothing me as he urges, “Just breathe, baby.”

Sucking air into my lungs hurts, but it sends oxygen directly to my brain, clearing my vision and inspiring me to surface from his shoulder. My face feels hot and sticky with equal parts embarrassment and shame. How can he possibly think highly of me when I’m breaking down like this in front of him?

“It’s okay,” he assures while cupping my face. He pecks my mouth lightly, drawing a sigh from my lips. “I’ve got you now, baby. You don’t have to worry.”

“You promise?”

He hums as he presses his lips firmly to mine. More vibrations rattle me to my core, inspiring a tremor to rip through me. His hands slip down my back, massaging the ridges and divots that mark my spine. He pauses at the waistband of my jeans, barely sliding his thumbs under the loops when he whispers, “I promise…”

Dragging my fingers down his chest produces a hungry groan, one that propels me to strip away his shirt and his jeans. He slides my sweater from my body and then slips my jeans from my hips, revealing the black panties underneath. His thumbs roam under the straps of my bra, teasing its removal.