Chapter 156

I turn to Sam, who’s practically at the height of my shoulder now.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Who was that man that Mama was talking to earlier?”

“Um, his name is Isaak.”

“Is he a Marine?”

I smile. “Not quite.”

“He looks like G.I. Joe.”

Peter scoffs immediately. “He does not. He looks more like a superhero undercover.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Like your boyfriend, Captain America?”

“He’s not my boyfriend! I just think he’s cool.”

Bree and I exchange a look and I have to try really hard not to laugh. “If you boys want, next time, I’ll introduce you both to him and you can ask him yourself. How’s that?”

Peter looks a little nervous, but Sam is immediately excited. “Great! Can we come back tomorrow?”

“No,” Bree says immediately. “But soon. Now let’s go.”

Once I’ve seen Bree and her family off, I carry Jo up to her bedroom and tuck her in. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks at me and she doesn’t even ask for a story.

“Can Aunty Bree come again?” she murmurs sleepily.

“Of course.”

“And Uncle Jake, too?”

“Mhmm.”

“And Peter?”

I smile. “Peter and Sam as well.”

She frowns. “Does Sam have to come?”

“Jo!”

She giggles under the covers. “I’m only joking you.”

I kiss the top of her head and start humming under my breath. Within two minutes, she’s sleeping soundly, completely tuckered out by her excitement-filled day. I’m jealous—the excitement has me wired, not sleepy.

I slip out of her room and head straight to Isaak’s office. One look tells me he’s not there and he hasn’t been for a while.

I count up the number of hours he’s been away. It feels like forever. Maybe Bogdan or someone else might know where he is, but when I try to find someone, I come up empty. The house feels eerily abandoned.

Feeling strange, I end up in Isaak’s room, pacing up and down, jumping at the slightest noise.

Two hours later, I’m still sitting on his window seat and he’s still not here. It isn’t until nearly three in the morning that I hear heavy footsteps.

I want to get up, but I’m so tired and my legs feel heavy and numb, and before I can move, the door swings open.

“Camila?”

I forget about the pins-and-needles in my leg and stare at Isaak. He doesn’t look hurt, but he looks exhausted. And pissed, and a whole host of other things besides.

“What are you doing here?”

“I… I was wondering where you were.”

“So you came to my bedroom?”

“Why did you leave so abruptly this morning?”

He removes the jacket he’s got on and I notice streaks of blood across the white shirt. “Oh my God!” I gasp, jerking myself up to my feet and ignoring the complaints in my legs. “You’re bleeding.”

He pulls the shirt off his shoulders and discards it on the back of a chair.

For the first time, I’m more concerned with checking him for wounds, rather than ogling his extremely defined set of abs.

“It’s not my blood,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” I say, calming down a little. “So you’re not hurt.”

“No.”

Now, I feel a little silly for coming up here at all. I should have just stayed with Jo in her bedroom. But for some reason, I’m not ready to leave yet.

Against my better judgment, I ask, “What happened?”

He raises his eyebrows. “You want to know?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not a nice story.”

I bite my lip. “I want to know anyway.”

He walks over to me, shirtless and completely confident in that fact. Not that I can blame him. He doesn’t sit down, just leans against the wall, his body slanting to one side casually.

“Maxim hit one of our newest warehouses. He set fire to one side and attacked the other. He massacred every single person in there.”

I shudder as my stomach roils. “Oh my God.”

“Twelve in total. Four people were burned to death. The rest had their throats slit. They were strung up like pieces of meat.”

My gut churns again, but I asked for this story.

“They were all fucking civilians,” Isaak growls. “Employees hired out to work in this warehouse and move goods. They had no fucking idea who they worked for.”

“Isaak, I’m sorry…”

His eyes find mine. He’s furious, but that fury is not directed at me.

“You’re sure it’s Maxim?”

“He wrote a message for me on the floor of the warehouse,” he says. “‘I’m taking back what’s mine.’”

“That… that’s what he wrote?”

“Yes. He wrote it in the blood of the men and women he killed today.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. I realize in this moment just how naïve I still am. Because, before now, I would never have thought it possible that Maxim could be capable of something so monstrous. So cruel.

“I’m going to make him pay for this,” he snarls.

He’s about to turn away from me when I grab his hand. “Isaak, you’re in no fit state to do anything right now. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

“Your eyes are bloodshot, you haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten. You’re not you. You need to make the decision tomorrow when you can think clearly.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Are you trying to postpone his death?”

“No, you stubborn bastard,” I snap, refusing to let go of his arm. “I’m trying to keep you from acting hastily and making a mistake. If you go in like this, you could get hurt.”

“Would you care?”

The question hangs between us for a moment. And I know there’s no way I can get out of answering it. I stare at him for a moment.

It feels like there’s only one way to answer this question.

I move closer to him, wrap my hand around his neck, and bring his face down to mine.