Chapter 7: Intrusion
TAMARA
I was going to kill him.
No, scratch that. I was going to kill him again, and this time I would make sure he stayed dead.
By the time I reached the bakery, my cheeks were already hurting from the fake smiles I had to maintain. Strangers, stopped me along the way, all of them eager to congratulate me on my wedding. They gushed endlessly about how handsome and tall my “soon-to-be husband” was.
If I had to hear that phrase one more time, I was sure I was going to scream.
The bakery itself was one of the biggest in Russia, so the crowd came as no surprise. The place smelled of warm bread, sugar, and freshly baked cakes, and people moved in and out in a constant rush. Yet, even in that chaos, my eyes found him immediately.
His silhouette was unmistakable. He was in a black suit that fitted him like he grew in it. His broad back, his posture, the aura of power that clung to him like a second skin. He was bent slightly toward a shorter man, speaking in low tones, hands shoved in his pockets. Even standing still, Isaiah Cannighan radiated energy, masculine and sharp enough to cut the air.
I froze a few steps away, forcing on my big-girl mask, shoving down the dangerous flutter building in my chest and stomach.
Before I even made my presence known, he was already turning. His head angled slowly, like he had sensed me long before I arrived. A smirk tugged at his mouth, sharp and merciless, and it sent arrows straight through my heart.
Damn you, heart.
“You got here quick,” he announced, his voice smooth but heavy, his eyes trailing down my body until they landed on my legs. “And you are showing some skin. Finally.”
Heat followed that gaze, but I ignored it, ignored the stares we had drawn from curious onlookers in the bakery.
“Follow me,” I hissed, brushing past him without waiting for his reply. I did not need to turn to know he was following; the lazy rhythm of his footsteps was enough to tell me.
Once we were further from the people, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. His steps were unhurried, almost amused, but he allowed me to drag him without protest. His eyes fell to where my hand clutched him, and though I refused to dwell on it, I could feel his attention burning into my skin. I was too furious to let myself care.
“What game are you playing at here, Cannighan?” I demanded, my voice low and sharp, almost trembling with the effort to contain my anger.
Isaiah’s eyes glimmered, his smirk carved deep into his cold face. “Cannighan? That’s new. What happened to ‘baby’? Or ‘my devil’?” he drawled, as if my fury were nothing more than entertainment to him.
“I’m not in the mood for your games, Isaiah. What are you doing here? How did you even find this place?” I muttered half curious, half angry.
But Isaiah didn’t answer. His silence was unnerving, his gaze locked stubbornly downward. I followed it and felt the blood rush to my face. His eyes weren’t on me, they were on my ring finger. On Noel’s ring.
I dropped his wrist quickly, flushing as I put distance between us. My chest felt hot, my body weak. He lifted his hand slightly, rubbing at the spot I had touched, as if my grip had burned him, as if he couldn’t believe it had happened. The sight made my pulse race.
“To answer your question, church girl,” he finally growled, dragging my gaze back to his eyes, dark green, darker than I remembered. “I have my eyes and ears everywhere. And I needed to see you.”
“See me?” I hated the way my body reacted to those words.
“Mhmm.” He hummed low. “Did you get my gift?”
He was talking about the flowers.
“Yes. And I don’t appreciate it. In fact, I flung them into the bin the moment I received them.” My shrug was careless, my voice sharp, hoping they created a reaction within him. My words were a lie of course, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Did you now,” he drawled, his body leaning slightly closer. I instinctively leaned away, afraid that if I let him into my orbit, I will not want to let him out. “I’ll just keep sending more then. I won’t even have to lift a finger.” He stood upright, eyes still trailing across my face. I got jitters each time he stared at me. It was sickening.
“If you think your money is going to impress me, then you don’t know me at all, Isaiah. Keep sending me flowers and I’ll report you for stalking. Do not tempt me.” The lies rolled off my tongue effortlessly, though every word cut me inside. I couldn’t play this game with him.
Not anymore.. Not when my wedding was only a month away. Noel was safety. Isaiah was… holes in a net, dangerous and impossible to hold onto.
Isaiah stayed quiet, my threats bouncing off him like stones against steel.
A voice interrupted, clearing softly near us.
“Your cake is ready for testing,” an older woman announced. Petite, with kind eyes, her gaze flicked nervously toward Isaiah, betraying that she had recognized who he was. From her tone, it was obvious she had been the one I spoke to over the phone.
I gave her a tight smile, thanking her, and told her I was coming. My eyes flicked to my wristwatch agitation crawling up my skin. Noel was still not here.
“I didn’t know cake testing was for the bride alone,” Isaiah murmured, reminding me he was still beside me, as if I could forget.
“The bride can do it alone.” I shrugged, eyes glued to my watch, not daring to meet his gaze. “The cake is mostly for me anyway.” My words were cool, but inside, my frustration burned. Noel should have been here. If he wasn’t coming, he should have let me cancel.
“What will they say though?” Isaiah’s voice was a low taunt. “They already think I am your fiancé. I might as well—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence, Cannighan.” I snapped, finally looking at him. “You might as well do nothing but leave. Noel will be here soon.”
“He is not coming anytime soon.”
My heart skipped. “What?”
He didn’t answer.
“What did you do?” My voice cracked with fury.
“I just pulled some strings to make him spend more time at work,” he replied casually, as if he were speaking about the weather. For the first time, fear curled in my stomach. Just how much power did he have now?
“Besides,” he added, his smirk returning, “it is a win-win situation. He gets more deals. I get to spend time with you.”
I gasped, fury and heat tangling inside me. “You are a sick bastard,” I hissed. The words carried all my anger, but beneath it, something else clawed at me, something I refused to name.
Isaiah only shrugged, unaffected. His eyes glowed with steel, his voice low and deliberate.
“I’ll be anything I can be to get you back, malýshka”
I didn’t justify his statement with a response, and I didn’t acknowledge the way my body betrayed me, how the throbbing between my legs only increased at the pet name he called me. Instead, I shook my head, brushing past him with all the dignity I could muster, determined to ignore him until I had left this place for good.