Chapter 123 Chapter 123 Moving Back
I wake up to the smell of coffee. It’s rich and bitter, filling the room like something steady, something normal. I sit up slowly, wiping at my face, mascara smeared and crusted under my eyes. I inhale the aroma from the mug, bringing it close, letting it ground me for a second. I take a sip, letting it burn my tongue, the roof of my mouth, all the way down my throat. It does nothing to soothe the ache inside me.
Sliding out of bed, my body feels heavy, like I didn’t sleep at all. I make my way to the living room. It’s empty, quiet in a way that feels too loud. I open the terrace doors.
Something dark inside me pulls me forward.
I move toward the glass edge, step over it, my heels digging into the narrow curb. My hands grip the metal railing wrapped around the glass terrace. I lean forward and look down. It’s a long way. My palms go slick with sweat, my heart pounding unevenly.
For a split second… I think—just let go.
It would be easier. Anything would be easier than this constant, aching pain hollowing me out.
A scream shatters the moment.
I flinch, losing my grip. It’s Gemma—from the other building. She and Alek are out on their balcony, her voice panicked, raw.
Before I can react, a strong arm wraps around me and yanks me back over the railing.
We hit the ground hard.
I land on top of Ivan, the air knocked out of both of us.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps, breath ragged. “Have you lost your mind? Do you think that fuck is worth your life?”
We scramble to our feet, but he doesn’t let go of me. His grip is tight, almost desperate.
“Fuck you! Let me go,” I snap, shoving at him. “I hate you just as much as I hate him.”
We just stand there, staring at each other, both trying to catch our breath.
The doorbell rings—frantic, nonstop.
Ivan moves to open it, but his eyes don’t leave me. Gemma and Alek burst in, Gemma immediately wrapping her arms around me, holding me tight.
“What happened?” she whispers.
I close my eyes and place my left hand in hers. She gasps instantly, staring at my bare finger.
I take a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to jump. I just needed fresh air.”
“You would have killed us both,” Ivan mutters harshly. “I would have jumped after you, stupid girl.”
“Fuck you too, asshole,” I shoot back.
“Go shower,” Gemma says quickly, grabbing Alek’s hand. “We’ll go get your stuff. We’ll be back in thirty minutes.” She glances at Ivan. “Watch her.”
He nods.
I walk back to my room, heading straight into the bathroom. My clothes come off in a rush. Ivan follows me in.
“Get out!” I snap.
“Like hell,” he says, voice low. “You can’t be trusted…” He hesitates, quieter now. “…with my heart.”
I roll my eyes and step into the shower.
Hot water pours over me, washing everything down—last night, the anger, the humiliation, pieces of myself I don’t even recognize anymore. I just stand there, letting it hit me, letting it numb me.
When I step out, Ivan is sitting on the counter in just his boxers, watching. He hands me a towel without a word. The air between us is thick, heavy.
He follows me into the bedroom, dropping onto the bed, leaning back, flexing every muscle.
I unzip my suitcase.
Ivan watches me as I dry off and start getting dressed.
“Could you not?” I mutter.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he says with a grin.
“I don’t want you to see it now.” My voice cracks slightly, tears threatening again.
“Sorry.” He turns over, burying his face into the bedding.
I pull on sweats and sit next to him. He rolls back over, softer now, taking my hand.
“My turn,” he says quietly, pulling me up. “I’m coming with you.”
An hour later, we’re back at Dragon’s.
All the cars are still in the driveway.
I laugh under my breath. “Glad he kept the party going.”
“Your handiwork?” Ivan asks, glancing at the crushed flower bed.
I shrug. “They blocked me in.”
Alek laughs. Ivan smirks. “Alek, you good with a gun?”
I spin around. “No guns.”
“Just in case,” Ivan says casually.
My stomach drops the second we step into the bedroom.
Dragon is in our bed.
With her.
I force myself to breathe. Ivan steps forward and drops onto the bed beside them. They jolt awake, scrambling, hands grabbing for covers.
Penelope opens her mouth—
Ivan pulls out his gun.
“Don’t fucking move. Don’t fucking speak,” he says coldly. “Elena gets her things. Then we leave.”
Gemma and Alek help me pack. I don’t even bother being careful—I shove shoes and bags into trash bags, fast and rough. My clothes are still in garment bags, at least.
It takes two long, awkward hours.
“This is the last of it,” I say.
Penelope has been crying the entire time. I don’t feel bad. Not even a little.
Ivan pauses at the door, grabbing my elbow, pulling Dragon’s attention.
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told the last asshole who cheated on her,” he says, voice low and deadly. “You ever touch her again—I will tear you apart, piece by piece, seal you in concrete, and drop you in the fucking Mediterranean. No one will ever find you. Deal?”
Dragon nods like an idiot.
I shake my head, a small, bitter smile pulling at my lips. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” Ivan shrugs, flashing those dimples. “But it works, dushichka.”
Back at the apartment, every time we bring in another load, I stop and stare at my couch.
“Why do you keep staring at it?” Gemma asks.
“I need a new one.”
She laughs. “Why?”
I shrug. “I’ve fucked too many guys on it. It’s kind of gross.”
“Who?” she asks, already laughing.
“Your husband. His brother. Dimitri. George. Dragon… Vince… and Grant.”
“Boo, you whore,” she laughs, shoving me. “We’ll go couch shopping tomorrow.”
She heads back toward the door, then pauses. “Friday—girls’ day. I booked everything. Mia mentioned a concert.”
She glances toward the hallway, then back at me. “Don’t sleep with him… or do. I kind of love scary Ivan with a gun.”
“I won’t,” I say flatly. “I’m no one’s number five. Or two. Or three. I’ll be someone’s number one… eventually. Even if it’s just a dog or a kid.”
The laugh that follows feels hollow.
Gemma leans in and kisses me—right on the lips—just as the guys walk in.
“Told you,” says Alek. “They were making out.”
“We were not,” I protest.
“Please don’t stop,” Alek mutters, adjusting himself.
“We are not having a threesome,” I snap, grabbing the garment bags from him.
“There are four of us,” he shoots back.
My eyes flick to Ivan.
He’s grinning.
“No. You’ve all lost your minds.”
“Sounds fun,” Gemma adds with a wicked smile. “When was the last time you even got some? A week?”
I let out a cold laugh.
“Try three months.”