Page 60 of Devil’s Reign

I hit the call button and wait with her pressed against me, chest heaving, my hand tight on the back of her neck because letting go feels physically impossible right now. Like something vital will snap the moment I do.

The elevator doors open, and we step into the warmth, dripping all over the floor. The hum fills the silence, and she leans into me, wet and trembling, and it damn near splits me in half.

Fucking Aleksei was right, the arrogant bastard. I’ve gone and fallen for her. Now, what?

I scrub a hand over my face, dragging damp hair back from my forehead, my heart still racing from the storm and from her and from the disaster that is my life right now. I don’t want to let her go. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not in any version of the future I can make myself think about. The elevator dings, the doors sliding open to my floor.

My men are already there waiting. Their faces are tight, and my gut knots instantly—something’s wrong.

One of them steps forward, arms full of towels. I take them and work one through Melani’s hair, blotting away the worst of the water before draping another around her shoulders and body, folding them closed over her chest. I know I’m being too gentle with her in front of my men. I should be more careful. I shouldn’t show them she means anything to me. But I can’t bring myself to care.

“Miss Fontana is back,” one of them tells her, reminding me that she brought up her mother earlier. She asked me to let her go. She freezes and glances up at me. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. It’s all there in her eyes—she wants to go, and she’s waiting to see if I’ll stop her.

I squeeze her shoulder and reluctantly let her go. Behind her, Luka catches my eye and dips his head once. That small gesture tells me everything. Something happened while I was up on that rooftop. My jaw clenches.

Melani pulls the towel tighter around herself and mutters a soft excuse before slipping away towards her mother’s room. I watch her until she disappears behind the door, and the click of it closing lands harder than it should. My legs itch with the need to follow her, to keep her in my line of sight at all times, to know she’s breathing, that she’s safe, that no one can touch her.

My hands curl at my sides as I force myself to turn towards my suit. Luka falls into step beside me, and we head straight into my office, neither of us speaking until the door shuts behind us.

“Talk to me,” I say, my voice low and steady, even though every nerve in my body is strung tight. Melani is safe where she is.

“Aleksei has been calling nonstop. There’s been a complication, but he won’t tell me what it is. Which means it’s bad.” His grey eyes flash with disapproval—it’s clear he thinks what I'm doing with Melani is a disaster waiting to happen.

I ignore it and make my way to my desk. When I sink into the chair behind it, my wet clothes let out an undignified squelch against the leather. Shit. I forgot I’m still soaked.

“You should have used one of the towels Uris gave you instead of handing them all to our prisoner.” The censure in his tone has me snapping up to him.

“You don’t talk about her like that.”

He grumbles something under his breath and disappears into my ensuite. He comes back out with a towel and my thick robe, tosses both unceremoniously onto my lap, and crosses his arms. “Where’s your head, Vanya? We’re at one of the most critical times we’ve been in years, and you’re stuck on some girl you’re⁠—”

I slam my palms flat on the desk. “Finish that sentence, and you lose your fucking tongue.”

His mouth falls open. Then, slowly, something shifts in his expression. “Look at you. You’re in love with her.”

“If you have nothing useful to say, get out,” I growl.

“You cannot have her, Ivan. You’re a Petrov, and you’re falling for a nobody? Aleksei would never allow it. You need to marry someone on your own level, remember?” His voice drips with sarcasm, but I don’t miss the thread of worry underneath it. Not that it matters. I already know all of this. I don’t need him throwing it back in my face.

“I swear to fucking God, Luka, if you don’t get out right now, you’re going to find your head detached from the rest of your body.”

“And now you’re threatening me? Your oldest friend and ally?”

That’s what gets me to my feet. The towel and robe he gave me slip to the floor as I slam both hands on the desk again. This time, his eyes flicker. Finally, he’s taking me seriously.

“You’re so fucked,” he mutters, then turns and walks out of my office like he should have done the first time I fucking told him to. The door bangs behind him, and I stare at it for a long beat before dropping heavily back into my chair.

He’s not wrong. I’ve told myself the same damn thing ever since Melani came into my life. Has it really only been barely a month?

Fuck. It feels like a lifetime. I’m not the same man I was before I met her.

It should scare me. It does scare me—the sheer magnitude of emotions she’s managed to drag out of me in such a short time. But no matter how much sense it makes to walk away… I can’t fucking quit her.

I grab my phone from my desk and see several missed calls from Aleksei, Dima, and Vasily. The latter left a text that I opened straight away.

I found something. I’m at the restaurant in your hotel.

Come meet me as soon as you can. This is a conversation best had in person.