Chapter 180 ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY

Chapter 180 ONE-HUNDRED AND EIGHTY


Isabelle woke up before him, realizing they had cuddled all through the night. His face while he slept was so beautiful—his high cheekbones and firm, stubbled jaw, winged dark eyes, brows that were so expressive by day, and those long eyelashes resting peacefully for once.

She lay far too long staring at him. Committing to memory the man who had stolen into her heart and thoughts far more than she wanted him to. 

She should hate him.

Detest him.

She could have pushed him off her last night but she didn't.

How else can she explain the thirsty-lust that had overwhelmed her last night? There was no way to make sense of the feelings that had filled her when Alessandro touched her.

The man was getting under her skin far too much.

Worse of all, a twisting black guilt sat in her belly. He didn't know what was coming next. She had just set the wheels for his downfall, and now, after last night, after Alessandro’s confession, she wasn't so sure anymore.

After last night, she wasn't sure what to feel.

Isabelle carefully detangled her hand from his, her heartbeat so loud that she was surprised he couldn't hear it. A feeling of betrayal followed her as she tiptoed out of bed and grabbed her phone from the desk. Then she made her way to the bathroom, shutting the door after her.

Fingers moving over the keyboard with anxiety and overwhelming fear, she sent a text message.

|______________|

You can come in 

now.

|______________|

It was only morning but she could feel her palms getting sweaty all of a sudden. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, noticed Alessandro was still asleep and tiptoed back to bed, slipping into the covers with him.

Now, she just had to wait for what came next.

☣•°☣•°☣•°☣

A deafening sound of banging and gunfire jolted them both from whatever sleeping trance they were in. The door was kicked open, and two Russian soldiers stormed in, one after the other.

Alexei and Mikhail came in last, each man armed to their bones.

It was happening.

Alessandro rose up, his instincts kicking in before reason.

“What the f—” He tried to pull out a gun but realized he was defenseless. He didn't have any on him. Isabelle must have stripped him off every weapon he had at the club.

So he tried to play it cool. He sprung out of bed in the joggers and sleeveless shirt Isabelle had given him last night.

Guns were raised. And no one was smiling at first.

“You really let your guard down for a pair of soft lips,” Alexei taunted, a frown etched into his face as he spoke.

“To what do I owe this visit? I mean, isn't it rather too early for well wishes or you just can't let a man fuck his wife in peace? Which one is it?”

Alexei had a smug grin on his face, his eyes moving from Alessandro and resting on Isabelle. When it dawned on him what they had done, his expression shifted into something darker. He looked pissed off.

“She's not your wife,” Alexei declared through gritted teeth, his eyes still fixed on Isabelle.

Having yanked Isabelle alongside him when he got off the bed, he held her close behind him. “Stay close, baby.”

She exhaled deeply.

If only he knew.

“I might be unarmed but that doesn't mean I'm weak,” he told them, his gaze flickering between the soldiers, as if taking in their sizes and formulating ways to make their death worthwhile.

“Nobody said you were,” Alexei muttered, smiling to himself. “Darling, it's okay. I think the time for the charade is over. We have him now. Come over to us.”

Alessandro frowned when he heard those words. What was Alexei talking about?

“Baby, he's trying to get into your head. Don't pay heed to him.”

Bracing up, she took a step back from him and Alessandro felt the little distance immediately.

“No, he's not trying to get in my head. You are. With your confessions yesterday, you are the one trying to get into my head,” Isabelle responded, finally finding the courage to step away from him and onto Alexei’s side of the room, who didn't wait for her to cross over completely before he dragged her to him. 

Alessandro’s blood ran cold, his head now fixated on the woman he had fallen in love with. He was no fool and he certainly wasn't lost on what was going on, but he needed conviction… needed to hear it from her mouth.

“What's going on? He's Alexei, remember?”

Tilting her head up, “I do, and he's my husband too.” She took a pause before continuing, “My real husband at that. You know for someone who thinks so high and mighty of himself, I didn't think it'll be so easy to lure you into your own doom.”

Darkness crept over him. The same kind he struggled to lay low when he realized how madly in love he was with her, and how badly he needed to win her love back. 

“Isabelle.” 

The way he called her name broke something inside of her, but she stayed put, masking how she was really feeling with that defiant expression painted over her face.

Alexei nodded towards one of his men and in seconds, a gun was handed to Isabelle.

“You said you loved me. Do you think I'm so stupid enough to still believe your lies? Oh, wait. Yes, you've always thought of me as the stupid little captive, so I'm sure you thought the exact same thing when you cooked up that nonsensical love speech for me.”

“We made love,” he muttered, voice low, barely a whisper.

Chills ran up her spine, but she ignored them. “We didn't. I played you instead.” Isabelle took a step forward. “How did I do? You know with the acting like I was into you and stuff.” She cleared her throat, faking a laugh. “It was so easy…”

Alexei leaned in towards her, whispering into her ear, “Finish him off, Isabelle.”

Alessandro clenched his hands into fists, his jaw tightened and he suddenly felt the need to break Alexei’s jaw.

“Get your hands off her!” Alessandro commanded, his stare burning into her.

Alexei scoffed. “She's my wife. I can touch her however I want,” 

“You can't. She's mine, and mine only.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward, raising his rifle, but Alessandro moved first.

He lunged forward, taking them by surprise and he sent a fist into the soldier's jaw and that sent the soldier staggering back a lot. 

“Mine to touch,” he muttered, slamming the soldier's arm, twisting it and yanking the soldier's gun off his firm grip, and before the second soldier could make a move, Alessandro fired, and a single bullet went into the forehead of the second man.

Gunfire erupted.

Suddenly what seemed like a back and forth banter turned into a chaotic confrontation. Mikhail tried to shoot at Alessandro, but before he could react, Alessandro pulled the trigger and the bullet ended up grazing his arm even though it left him bleeding.

He turned to Alexei—who raised his own weapon.

BANG.

The next gunshot came from behind, and Alessandro staggered, the gun in his hand fell to the floor.

He turned, and his eyes met with colder ones, filled with anger and pain. His chest was burning but not from a bullet, the bullet went into his arm instead. With blood gushing out from his side, he tried to maintain eye contact with Isabelle. It wasn't a fatal injury but it was enough to steal his strength. His knees buckled as he fell partly to the floor, gasping.

He looked up.

She stood transfixed at the spot. Her hands were shaking at first, but then, they curled up tightly around the pistol as if it held her life support.

He blinked, trying to make sure that he wasn't day dreaming and it was indeed Isabelle who pulled the trigger.

His hand was still rubbing against his bleeding arm when he was wrenched away from her. Twisted and pressed to the floor. His gaze stayed on her, his head in her direction, his neck turned sharply and his body prone on the carpet. Alexei had a gun trained on him while Mikhail tied his hands together at the small of his back with zip ties.

“Got you this time, Moretti. If Alexei was going easy on you before, that's over now,” Mikhail chuckled, helping him up. “And you have your wife to thank for that.”

Mikhail dug his knee into Alessandro’s spine and leaned forward. “Say hello to hell, Don Moretti.”

Even as Mikhail spoke, his eyes were on her.  The sense of betrayal and undying love washed over him.

And he just had to ask…

“Did you ever love me?”