Page 27 of Dangerous Promises

In the end, Isla shuts up just long enough for Alexei to make up his own mind. His shoulders slump as he looks away from me and back at Anton. His eyes only briefly flicker. Just enough to give away how painful this must be. But he does what he came to do, and just says, "Done."

Chapter

Ten

Sage

The countryside passes idly outside the windows of the limo. I don't acknowledge the rolling hills or vineyard rows, instead preferring to stare daggers at my uncle. I know he sees me, but he pays attention only to his phone as he purposefully ignores me. Freddie spares us the occasional nervous glance, but it's not him I'm cursing with my eyes.

"Sage," Anton says, a sigh in his voice even though he doesn't look up or stop scrolling. "Can't you look out the window or something? Must you look at me?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "You can't just override a death-"

"Sage," my uncle begs, raising his voice as he cuts me off.

I go back to pouting. My feelings are clear. I'll deal with working with the Rushkoffs. I can't deal with turning my energy away from this aching feeling in my chest.

I take a deep dramatic sigh, which has my uncle grunting in frustration, and instead go to looking out the window. It really isbeautiful to watch as the country passes around me. This is only the second time I've seen this side of our city.

The first and only time I took this trip before, my worst enemy was seated next to me, his tattooed fingers gripping the wheel and his eyes darting over to me like he was actually concerned for my safety.

My heart beats no less hard now than it did then. Nerves eat my gut all the same but I have far less naivety. This time I'm aware I might be walking into a trap.

My leg bounces unconsciously while my head swims with thoughts I can't control. It's not the Rushkoff estate itself that makes me nervous but what it represents. I haven't been back here since my lover left in a body bag. The last time I took this trip, the worst day of my life was waiting for me.

Freddie places a gentle hand on my knee to stop the bouncing and gives me a small smile. There's no way I can get through a negotiation with the Rushkoffs if my mind is focused on what happened the last time I was here.

The big gates to their estate open before our limo can even stop, and then we're traveling up the pathway like welcomed guests.

The house is just as beautiful as I remember and I'm in awe of it now just as I was then. It's too beautiful to be real. The wooden house sitting next to the lake and surrounded by woods feels like it belongs in a luxury getaway. Like the instinct upon seeing such a paradise is for your heart rate to slow, nerves to calm and to know here is the place to relax and unwind.

None of that is real, though. Instead my heart races, sweat beading at my forehead.

I step out of the car and my dark green skirt slips back over my thighs as I pull the sleeves of my jumper over my hands for comfort.

When I look up to the front steps I see only memories, and my eyes well at the thought. I almost see a thick beard, blond hair and a sinister smile looking down on me before the image disappears in smoke and reality steps in to replace it.

Black hair, black suit and stormy gray eyes watch me with restrained venom. Alexei's hands are clasped in front of him, his tattooed fingers interlocked and expression impossible to read.

Isla appears behind him, looking worn with tired circles around her eyes and her usually free flowing hair thrown back in a braid. As if there's no time for appearances anymore. She speaks before Alexei can, a gentle smile crossing her mouth.

"DeMarcos. Welcome. Come on in."

They lead us through the house on the same path that Victor took me. Weaving through the maze of downstairs rooms, passing by exposed wooden beams, dark furnishings and fireplaces galore. The modern lake house serenity is inescapable. A far cry from the old Italian architecture of my home.

Eventually we end up in a living space near the back of the house. The one with bookcases littering the wall. Overstocked bar. Quilted maroon couches. With its limited exits and bodyguards lining the walls in a procession. The same one where Victor first tried his hand to kill me.

I have the opposite reaction than I expect. A smirk crosses my features. Being back here feels powerful. This is also the place that I first triedmyhand at killingVictor. In the end only one of us came out on top.

I sit down in one armchair, desperately searching for someone I can share this feeling with. But I don't have an anchor anymore. I am terribly reminded of the fact thatheis gone nowand I am on my own. Freddie and Anton don't notice and can't relate. The only person paying me any heed is Alexei and his jaw tightens like he can tell exactly what I'm thinking.

"Drink?" Alexei offers from where he stands at the bar, muttering under his breath, "Fuck knows I'm going to need one."

"Scotch," Anton replies, settling himself next to Freddie on the other sofa.

Alexei pours a glass for my uncle and Freddie, taking a shot of what has to be vodka for himself.

They take their glasses as Alexei sits down too.