Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63391 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Just like last night, I find Isaac lounging in the doorway, infuriatingly at ease. He traded his suit jacket for something somehow even more dangerous. Perfectly tailored black dress pants and a crisp white button-down, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Of course. God forbid the universe allow me a single moment of peace.
His forearms flex as he folds them across his chest, lean muscle shifting beneath the starched cuffs. My gaze skims over those big hands, those toned arms, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and I’m yanked back to last night. I wonder where he stashed my vibrator after he so casually stole it from me.
I inhale through my nose and stand up straighter. He doesn’t get to win this round.
“What do you want?” I ask, proud of the way my voice stays mostly steady.
Isaac tilts his head, gaze dipping briefly to my bare feet and then back to my face.
“Did you really think calling up everyone involved in the wedding planning would somehow deter me from wanting to marry you?”
My stomach drops.
I blink once, then twice, trying to feign ignorance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He pushes off the doorframe and steps into the room. The air shifts instantly, becoming charged between us. The moment he crosses the threshold, the bedroom no longer feels like mine. It feels like an extension of him, and at any second he could simply claim me as his.
He doesn’t touch me. He knows he doesn’t even need to in order to get me riled up.
“I will admit,” he says as his eyes scan the open suitcase behind me, “you’re persistent.”
He takes another step, slow and measured. “But you’re going to have to try a lot harder to get out of this.”
My mouth is suddenly dry. “You keep talking like I’m supposed to have any idea what you’re saying.”
He smiles. “Katya,” he says, his voice low. “I told you I value honesty. Don’t start lying to me now.”
I hate the way he says my name, like it tastes good in his mouth, like he’s letting it melt on his tongue.
“You’re clever,” he adds. “But your father’s been playing this game longer than you’ve been alive.”
I’m about to snap back when a knock sounds behind him.
Maude peeks her head in. “Sir, the wedding planners are here for your meeting with Miss Belova.”
My heart stops. “What?” I blurt.
Isaac doesn’t turn. He just grins at me, slow and smug and devastating.
“The people you called up?” he says. “Yeah, they were never the real planners.”
My jaw drops.
“Your father knew you would pull something like this,” he continues, completely unfazed. “So he planted numbers in his office for you to find. Decoy contacts. Fake vendors. It was all entirely staged.”
I can’t speak.
I don’t even have words for the level of betrayal, humiliation, and awe currently colliding in my chest.
Isaac takes another step closer until we’re toe-to-toe, and he drops his voice low enough that only I can hear it.
“You’re playing checkers, sweetheart. We’re playing chess.”
My jaw tightens.
Maude clears her throat politely behind him.
He glances over his shoulder. “Thank you, Maude. We’ll be right there.”
She nods and disappears.
I sink onto the edge of the bed and drop my head in my hands.
This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening. I planned everything. I anticipated every detail. I called every vendor, every designer. I thought I’d finally outmaneuvered them.
Instead, I’ve been playing with pieces they handed me. Isaac stands silently in front of me, letting the moment settle.
I groan into my hands. “There’s really no way out of this, is there?”
“No,” he says simply.
I drag my palms down my face and glare up at him. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m enjoying you.”
I hate how my pulse quickens at that. How something in his tone makes heat curl low in my stomach.
I shake my head and stand. “Fine,” I mutter, brushing past him. “Let’s go plan a wedding I don’t want.”
His hand brushes lightly across the small of my back as he follows. And even though I hate everything about this, I don’t move away.
7
ISAAC
Dinner was painfully civil. Katya speared her pasta as though it had done her wrong. Maude stayed gracious, ignoring the tension while she cleared the plates. Now Katya’s holed up in her room, likely plotting her next attempt to derail the wedding. Too bad for her, there’s no escape.
I can’t help smiling when I recall the lengths she’s already taken to stop this wedding. She spent hours on the phone canceling vendors, only to discover they were decoys. Her frustration simmered through dinner. She may hate me, but she can’t deny the spark between us.
She’s exhausting and rebellious, that much is obvious. But damn, she keeps life interesting. One thing is certain though. Our marriage will never be dull. Whether we spend it fighting or fucking, a blaze will always rage between us.