Ruined Secrets (Perfectly Imperfect #4)

I look around one more time. So, he placed me as far from him as possible on this floor. It won’t do. I walk to my suitcase and grab the handle. Rolling it in front of me so my dress doesn’t catch within the wheels, I leave the room and head toward the other end of the corridor. Luca is just entering his room when he hears me coming. He takes a step back and watches me approach.

“Something wrong with your room?” he asks.

I stop in front of the room adjacent to his and tilt my chin up. His hooded eyes are peering at me, glaring with expression that I can't quite read.

“Not at all,” I say, roll my suitcase inside and close the door behind me.

I look at the door that connects my bedroom to the room Isabella has claimed and listen to the sounds coming from the other side. There is no way she’s staying that close to me. I’ll let it be for now, but first thing in the morning, she’s going backto the room across from Rosa’s. I hear her move around, and then the water turns on in her ensuite bathroom. My teenage wife is taking a shower just a few yards from me, and suddenly, my mind conjures up images of her perfect little body under the spray.

I shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m imagining having sex with a teenager. And one that’s probably never slept with a man before. Jesus. I march out of the room and slam the door shut behind me as if it’ll help erase the images of Isabella naked and wet. Or the temptation to pin her body between mine and the tiles of the shower wall while holding her wrists above her head.

* * *

It’s quarter to six when I get back from the meeting with Sergei Belov. One of my weapons suppliers got a hold of several crates of military-issued crossbows, but no one knew how they worked. Belov was the only person who came to mind that might know how to handle that shit. Based on his grinning face when I showed him the sample, he had plenty of experience with them. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. But he did stun me when he asked if I could get him a tank. Then, he shrugged and said, “Asking for a friend.” They must have more than one lunatic in the Bratva.

I climb the stairs to the third floor and knock on the door of Isabella’s temporary room. She opens and looks me over, focusing on my jeans and black shirt. I notice a glint of astonishment in her eyes.

“No dressing up for dinner here?” she asks as we head toward the stairway.

“I hate suits.”

Isabella’s eyebrows lift in surprise. Wordlessly, she descends the stairs in front of me, giving me an unobstructed view of her behind. A pink sleeveless top that ties around her neck is molded to her torso and narrow waist, and it only emphasizes her perky round ass, clad in tight black trousers. It takes tremendous willpower to move my eyes away from it.

When we get to the ground floor, she stops in front of the staff lined up on the right side of the foyer.

“This is Isabella. My wife,” I say and introduce them one by one, starting with the housekeeper, then the maids, two drivers, the gardener, and finally the kitchen staff.

With that done, I turn to the other side where my security people stand and introduce them, as well. I don’t expect her to remember any of their names because there are more than thirty people that work here.

“This is the second shift,” I tell her. “I’ll introduce you to the first shift when they arrive in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She nods and follows me to the dining room that spans a quarter of the ground floor on the east side.

I remember the first time I brought Simona here after we were married at the city hall. She was overwhelmed with the number of security guards and the size of the house itself, and she jumped and squealed when anyone carrying a firearm passed by her. Isabella, on the contrary, takes all of this in without batting an eye. I guess it’s nothing new to her. She was raised in a house twice the size of mine and with significantly more armed guards.

Damian is already in the dining room, sitting at the table to the left of the head seat. He sees us come in and stands up, extending his hand.

“Finally.” He laughs. “I started wondering if Luca decided to hide you in your room forever.”

“Isabella, this is my brother,” I say and watch closely for her reaction.

My brother is twelve years younger than me and, as women like to call him, “drop-dead gorgeous.” People usually focus on his blue eyes, styled hair, and impeccable clothing, while underestimating him in the process, thinking him as a playboy. He does his best to uphold that impression with his behavior. Not many people know what a genius is hiding under that expensive haircut. Damian has a knack when it comes to numbers and the real estate market. Because of that, he handles the finances of my business dealings. He also launders millions of dollars on a monthly basis.

“Just Isa, please,” my wife says.

“I have to say, I couldn’t think of a name that would fit you better, Isa.” He smiles at her. “Bella.”

I shake my head. He’s already turned on the charm.

“No flirting, Damian. Where’s Rosa?”

“She said she’ll eat in her room.”

I turn to the maid waiting close by. “Get my daughter down here. Right now.”

As we sit at the table waiting for Rosa, I lean back in my chair and observe as Isabella and Damian discuss how she likes the house. They clearly hit it off right from the start, which I expected since they’re close in age. I wonder if she’ll try seducing him like Simona did.

“You weren’t at the wedding,” Isabella says.