Chapter 172 Chapter 172 Cockblocked
It’s midnight, and I’m sitting in the lantern-lit area by the springs. I’m stretched out on a lounger, a towel underneath me, dressed in my most modest bathing suit. The sports top wraps around my neck, covering everything, and my shorts are just as practical. Still, the night air is cool, brushing against my exposed skin, sending a light chill through me.
I have Gemma on the phone. It’s two in the afternoon in Vegas.
“It’s done,” she says. “The penthouse sale is finalized. I’am sending over the paperwork for you to sign. It’s yours.”
“How’s living with Silence of the Lambs?” she asks, her voice teasing. I hear Alek laugh somewhere behind her, and then Sergey chimes in.
“He hasn’t tried to get in your bed?” he adds.
“You guys are all idiots,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Tiana told me about Jax,” Gemma cuts in. “Bitch, he is the hottest one, and you turned him down.” She says it like a statement, not a question.
“I wasn’t going to hurt Ivan like that,” I say quietly. “And like I’ve said before—I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice.”
I keep my voice low. My headphones are in so I can hear her clearly, but my voice still carries into the trees, and I don’t want anyone overhearing me.
“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffs. “That’s why you dropped my brother.”
“Bitch, if you call Sergey your brother one more time, I’m going to barf. Like full-on chunks—everything I ate today.”
She cackles.
I flip the camera on, the satellite internet working perfectly out here. The connection is clear, and Gemma immediately starts gushing over the view, asking again when she can come visit. I don’t answer that directly. I love her, but she brings chaos with her—and I’m not sure I want that here.
Even if I miss it sometimes.
Then I see movement out of the corner of my eye.
Ivan.
He’s walking down the path toward the springs. He spots me but doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t even slow down. He stops at the edge, drops his pants like I’m not even there—
Gemma screams in my ear.
“Oh my God—oh my God—”
She’s getting a full view of his backside before he steps into the water, and I completely forget how to breathe for a second.
“Shut up!” I hiss, fumbling with my phone, trying to turn the camera away. My hands are sweating like I’m a damn teenager.
Gemma is laughing now, hysterical, while Alek tries to grab the phone from her so he can see.
“Give it to me—what the fuck—”
“You’re disgusting,” I mutter, but I’m smiling despite myself.
I glance back.
Ivan is floating now, stretched out on the surface of the water, his body lit by the moonlight. Every line of him visible, defined, impossible to ignore.
My stomach twists.
I hate him.
He’s a cheating asshole. But that cock.
None of that stops the way my body reacts to him.
He knows exactly what he’s doing.
“I know why he’s not talking to you,” Gemma says, finally calming down.
“Oh yeah?” I reply, my eyes still locked on him. “Why’s that?”
Ivan turns his head, looking straight at me.
“Because you told him you don’t want to listen to his beautiful lies,” she says, laughing again. “And let’s be real—everything that comes out of that man’s mouth is a lie.”
I laugh with her.
She’s not wrong.
And honestly? I don’t care. He talks to Constantine. That’s what matters.
Ivan’s been here for a month now. He hasn’t said anything about leaving, and I haven’t asked. I’ve seen him talking to Atanas. I know Atanas invited him into the village, tried to get him to go out, hit the bar.
Ivan refused.
He turns in the water and starts swimming back toward shore.
My heart starts racing again.
Fucking asshole.
He’s my damn kryptonite.
He steps out of the water, completely unbothered, and I’m at a loss for words. I want him out of my head, but this image of him—wet, unapologetic, unreal—is burned into my brain.
Gemma is absolutely losing it in my ear.
“I would let that dick cheat on me as much as he wants,” she says, laughing. “As long as I get that in my mouth every day.”
“Have I told you lately how stupid you are?” I laugh.
Ivan doesn’t put his pants on right away. Instead, he picks them up and starts walking toward me.
Gemma is yelling now because the camera is still angled in his direction.
“Turn it—turn it—don’t you dare hang up—Fuck me!!! Why is he so hot?”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, every step he takes making it worse.
“Would you be mad if I fucked him?” Gemma asks, still laughing.
Ivan smirks.
I slap my hand over the camera.
He pulls on his sweatpants, standing just a few feet away from me now.
“Tell Gemma she’s not my type,” he says, that smirk still there, dimples and all.
“Oh, is that so?” Gemma snaps immediately. “I thought pussy was his type. As long as it’s moving, he fucks it, right?”
I don’t say anything.
She’s loud enough that he definitely hears her.
There’s a brief pause—like even she realizes she might’ve gone a little too far.
Ivan leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs.
And just like that, he’s gone—disappearing back into the trees like he was never there at all.
It takes me too long to recover, longer than I want to admit to.
I walk up the stairs and stop in my tracks.
Ivan is leaning in his doorway, watching me. His arms are crossed over his chest, his presence filling the space like he’s been waiting for this exact moment. My breath hitches before I can stop it.
He’s staying in the other master bedroom—his door directly across from mine.
He uncrosses his arms slowly and starts walking toward me, deliberate, unhurried. Like he already knows I’m not going anywhere.
And then—
Constantine’s door creaks open.
The moment shatters.
He comes running down the hallway, small feet pounding against the floor, and Ivan freezes mid-step.
“Mamma, can I sleep with you?” he asks, his voice soft but hopeful.
Cockblocked by his own son, I want to laugh but I don’t.
I nod, barely getting the motion out before he’s already moving again—but not toward me.
Toward Ivan.
He grabs Ivan’s hand without hesitation, tugging him forward like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
And just like that, he drags him into my room too.