He went still.
“I don’t trust you.” My voice cracked, but I held his gaze.
“You did this before, remember?” Her voice hardened, each word deliberate. “You were with me, and then you disappeared for three weeks. Three weeks of silence. And when you finally came back, you rejected me like I was nothing. Obviously, I was just a one-night stand to you. As I am right now.”
The words stung me to say, but maybe they hurt him more than me.
Dimitri’s jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I pulled my hair into a messy knot, zipping my dress with trembling fingers. “You of all people don’t get to talk about fair.
He got out of bed, still naked, and reached for me, but I steppedback. “Don’t.”
“Don’t, Dimitri.” I shook my head. “Don’t feed me promises you’ll break before the week ends.”
The silence that followed was deafening. His expression shuttered, pain flashing across his face.
A part of me felt bad, the part that was still in love with him. But the logical part of me thought, “Better him than me.”
And without another word, I turned and walked out, not daring to look back.
Chapter Twenty
Isabella’s POV
After three days in the house Dimitri had taken Adele and me to, we finally returned to the penthouse—thank goodness. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel Adele and I were safe there. The problem was that, on the first night, Dimitri and I had crossed a line.
By the next morning, when reality came crashing down on me like a tidal wave, I’d shut him out—told him it meant nothing, when in truth, it meant everything. The following two days were torture. Avoiding someone you lived with—and shared a daughter with—was nearly impossible. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover it.
So yes, I was relieved to finally breathe air that didn’t taste like his intoxicating scent. Relieved not to have to suppress my wolf or force my body to behave every time he was near—which was often.
I locked the door behind us—both locks, plus the chain—and watched as Adele dropped her bag by the couch and immediately went to switch on the television.
I finally turned on my phone. It had been off because Dimitri wanted to make sure we couldn’t be tracked. Almost instantly, it buzzed alive with notifications—dozens of messages, most fromCrane. And before I could even scroll through them, the phone started ringing.
Crane’s name flashed on the screen.
Right before I turned my phone off three days ago, I’d sent him a short message: Adele and I need to lay low for a few days. Don’t worry.
Clearly, that hadn’t worked.
I answered. “Crane—”
“Where the hell have you been?” His voice exploded through the speaker, equal parts fury and relief. “Three days, Isabella. Three days of radio silence. Do you have any idea what I’ve been thinking?”
“I’m sorry. I told you we were fine.”
“A text message saying you’re ‘laying low’ is not fine. That’s code for something terrible happened, and I’m trying not to panic you.” He took a breath, and I could picture him pacing his office in Zurich, running a hand through his hair the way he always did when stressed. “What happened? Are you hurt? Is Adele hurt?”
“We’re okay. Both of us.” I lowered my voice, glancing at Adele, who was flipping through kids’ channels on YouTube. “There was an incident. Someone tried to—” I hesitated. “Someone attacked us. But we’re safe now.”
The silence on the other end was deafening. I could practically feel the storm brewing behind it.
“Pack your bags,” Crane said finally, his voice deadly calm. “Both of you. I’m sending the jet. You’re coming back to Zurich. Today.”
“I can’t.”
“Isabella—”