Chapter 10 - Anoushka
Last night, the last person on my mind before I slept was Nikolai. I slept fitfully, having strange dreams, his words echoing in my head. Over the past few weeks, since we got married, there are some things he said and did which are permanently etched in my mind.
This morning, as I sit at the breakfast table alone, already dressed, I think about those things. Take last night, for example; he quietly supported me against his siblings' scrutiny. He might not know this, but I saw the warning looks he sent Sofia’s way and noticed how he acknowledged and laughed along when I gave a befitting reply.
Beyond that, I think back to the day at my office. After, in the car, during our argument, he told me what he wants is not domination but a chance. He deserves that much.
I sigh and put down my coffee, rubbing my forehead between my fingers. Have I been too closed off? From where I sit, despite thinking the worst of him, he’s only shown the best… well, mostly. I smile wryly. The man is not without his faults. He can be dominating, protective, and annoying as hell. And yet, he’s respected each decision of mine. He’s offered but never pushed us to share a room. He waits for me to decide if I want to spend time with him.
He watches from the sidelines patiently.
So maybe, after all this, I can still give him a chance?
Just then, Nikolai walks in, distracting me from my thoughts. I watch, transfixed, as he registers my presence and stands in front of me in that impeccable suit, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, loose tie. His hair flops over his forehead, and his brown eyes bore into me, piercing through my heart. My hands shake as I place down the coffee cup, and looking at him now, I’m reminded of how I called him hot last night.
It was meant to be a joke. But was it really? Hell no. He’s so damn fucking hot.
“Good morning… ?” he questions, noticing my dazed look.
I startle and blink my eyes, clearing my throat. “G… good morning.”
“What plans for the day?” he asks, grabbing a plate and sitting next to me. I watch as he proceeds to pop a blueberry in his mouth. God damn it. His mouth.
“Anoushka?” he raises an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” I shake my head. “I was thinking, Boris has given me a day off. I don’t want to sit around all day.”
“Uh-huh,” he grabs a paper, and begins to flick through it. “The driver can take you out shopping, or something, if you’d like.”
“Or,” I suggest cautiously, knowing that once I say what I’m about to say, it’ll be hard to take a step back. Nevertheless, last night showed me he’s on my team. Perhaps today, I can show him I could be on his.
The dilemma now is whether to accept his request to help out at his nightclub. There are certainly risks involved, like how if I happen to be near him, I’m going to have to try very, very hard to make sure I don’t rip his clothes off and tip the scales on this already precarious relationship. The potential benefits? I could learn more about the family business and perhaps even gain some respect from other members of his family.
Considering how the benefits outweigh the risks, I dive right in. “I was thinking that maybe you could take me along to La Fantasia. Show me how the place works?”
His eyes widen in surprise, and then a slow smile spreads across his face, making him look even more handsome, if that's even possible. "Really?" he asks, clearly pleased by my decision. His happiness is almost contagious, and I can't help but feel a sense of excitement building within me.
"Really," I confirm, trying to sound confident.
Besides, it can’t be that hard keeping my hands off him now, can it?
***
The heavy oak doors of the gentlemen's club creak open, and I step into a lush world of crimson and gold. My gaze darts around the entryway, taking in the plush velvet sofas, marble floors, and ornate chandeliers casting a warm glow over everything.
Nikolai's hand settles on my lower back, guiding me forward and describing the place in detail, unlike the last time. "This is the reception area. We have private lounges, a cigar bar, card rooms, and other amenities for our patrons."
I nod, cataloging the layout and flow of the space. The club is deceptively large, with winding corridors leading to more lounges and entertainment options. I had no idea, since we never explored past the main bar and his office in the past.
As Nikolai introduces me to the staff, I ask questions about their roles and responsibilities. The managers seem surprised by my interest but answer readily enough. By the time Nikolai shows me the door to the common office, I have a decent grasp of what the club offers.
“I have some routine rounds to make,” he tells me. “Would you be okay on your own? I know you handle CSR budgets, and I think Aran here in accounting,” he playfully pats a young twenty-something-year-old’s back, “could use your help.”
“Yes, please,” groans poor Aran, already looking out of his element.
“Sure,” I smile at Nikolai sweetly. To my surprise, he leans over and gently kisses me on my cheek. As he does, I freeze. He does, too, realizing how strange this is.
“Sorry,” he whispers in my ear and then diverts his gaze, turning his back to me and walking off. For some reason, I’m sorry to see him leave.
Before long, I find myself immersed in the club's operations—reviewing financial statements, managing guest lists, and learning about the various revenue streams that keep this place running like a well-oiled machine. I'm surprised at how quickly I adapt to the rhythm of the business, and it isn't long before I'm able to contribute valuable input to the accounting team.
"Anoushka, can you confirm the numbers for last night's earnings?" Aran asks me, handing over a thick stack of papers.
"Of course," I say confidently, scanning the documents before giving them the approval they need. My newfound confidence surprises even me.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Nikolai speaking with a group of guests through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the main club below. He moves between guests with a charming smile, laughing and clapping backs. But there's an edge to his cordiality, a subtle hardening of his gaze, that hints at the ruthlessness required to maintain control.
And damn, does he look good in control.
I wonder what it would take to make him lose it.
A heat spreads down my neck, and I avert my gaze, remembering where I am, focusing on how these thoughts planted in my head might just lead to trouble.
We’re married, and I can’t go falling for my husband. Said no one ever, but I.
"Everything seems to be in order," I announce, finishing my review of the documents. "You can submit these to Nikolai." The accountant gives me a grateful nod before focusing back on his work.
I take a moment to observe Nikolai from the window, watching as he expertly navigates the room. He smiles at a woman who flutters her eyelashes at him but moves back when she attempts to touch his arm.
Watching him work the room, I find myself impressed by his mastery of the delicate balance between charisma, intimidation, and boundaries. Nikolai is in his element here, and it shows in the way he carries himself. The usual tension in his shoulders has eased, and a boyish enthusiasm colors his features.
It's strange to think this is the man who has inspired fear and hatred in my family for so long. To me, he has only shown loyalty and care. I wonder which side of him is the truth and which is the mask he wears for the public.
***
After another hour of crunching some numbers, I feel the itch of boredom creeping up on me and decide to leave the confines of the office and explore the establishment further. The alluring hum of music and conversation draws me out into the dimly lit corridors.
The club is a maze of luxurious rooms, each one seemingly more opulent than the last. I peek through the open doors, carrying forward, not intruding where I might not be wanted. Even though I am exploring, I don’t want to be a hindrance to the operations here.
Just as I round a corner, I accidentally bump into someone. I immediately step back, embarrassment flooding my face. "I-I'm so sorry," I stammer, looking up at the man I've collided with.
He's tall and imposing, his eyes roaming over me with a predatory glint. A wicked grin spreads across his face, making my stomach churn with unease. "Well, well," he drawls, taking a step closer. "Aren't you a delightful little surprise?"
"Excuse me," I say politely, trying to sidestep him. But he moves in sync with me, blocking my path. My heart races as I realize I've never faced this type of situation before—alone and vulnerable. Especially in a place like this.
The alarm bells begin to ring in my head.
"Aren't you a pretty little thing?" he rasps, gripping my arm, his breath reeking of alcohol. His gaze rakes over me in a way that makes my stomach churn. "How much for an hour with you, sweetheart?"
"Y-you're mistaken," I insist, my voice loud and clear as I pull back from his grip. "I'm not… I don't work here."
"Of course you do," he chuckles darkly, reaching out to stroke a strand of hair from my face.
Panic rises in my chest at his implication. I debate between opening my mouth to tell him off or slapping his hand away when a calm, familiar voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "I believe the lady has made herself quite clear," Nikolai says, appearing behind the man. His eyes are icy, but there's an underlying fire within them that is bound to send a chill down anyone’s spine, but to me, his presence comes with an overwhelming sense of relief.
Instantly, I feel safe.
The man steps away and looks at Nikolai, laughing as he does. The man turns to face Nikolai, clearly sizing him up. "Come on, Nikolai. Since when did you become a knight in shining armor? Unless this one is yours?" he eyes me again sleazily, giving Nikolai an inquiring look.
"Don’t you ever talk about my wife like that," Nikolai replies smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. The man's eyes flicker between us, and I see his confidence falter for the first time. Before he can even reply, Nikolai's fist connects with the man's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. My heart leaps into my throat from the crunch of fist against jaw, and I gasp, reaching over to clutch Nikolai’s arm.
"Let this be a warning," Nikolai growls, his voice low but deadly. "You are banned from all Orlov clubs. If I see you again, I won't hesitate to make sure you never step foot in any establishment ever again."
The man scrambles to his feet, cradling his injured face. "You'll regret this, Orlov," he spits before disappearing down the hallway.
As soon as he's gone, my legs threaten to give out, and I lean against the wall, trembling from head to toe. Nikolai immediately comes beside me. “Are you alright?” he asks, frowning down at me.
I nod, unable to find my voice just yet. To my surprise, Nikolai takes my arm and leads me to his office. I stand there, stunned, when he sits down on the couch, his fingers flying over the keys.
I stare at Nikolai, shaken by the coldness in his eyes. The same man who just came to my defense is now barely looking at me. Nervous energy causes my heart to race so fast I feel like I’m in physical pain.
Is he mad at me? Does he blame me for what happened? The panic gets worse as I try to comprehend why the hell he’s acting so cold.
But just then, Nikolai looks up. “I’ve sent out his photo to every club I own across every chain, as well as our partner clubs. He will never enter an establishment I own or invest in. You will never have to see that bastard’s face again,” he growls at me as he stands, to come by my side and take my hand with such fierce endearment that I now worry for him.
He wasn’t being cold. As I watch him take several deep breaths, and from the way his hand is shaking with rage around mine, I can see he was only trying to rein in his temper. I can't help but feel a grudging admiration for the strength it must take to control such powerful emotions.
"Anoushka… " His voice is strained, and I can tell he's still struggling to calm himself.
"Thank you, Nikolai," I whisper, trying to convey my appreciation through my trembling voice. "You didn't have to do that, but… thank you for protecting me."
He doesn't respond immediately, staring at the spot where the man had gripped my arm. When he finally meets my gaze, his anger seems to have subsided somewhat, replaced by something akin to relief.
He looks back at me and reaches with one hand, gently caressing my cheek, like he’s checking I’m all right. His eyes soften, and I reach out to touch Nikolai's arm, feeling the tense muscles beneath his expensive suit. My fingers graze him gently, trying to convey a sense of comfort and reassurance.
"Hey, it's okay," I say softly, looking into his dark, fiery brown eyes. "I'm fine now. You don't need to worry about me."
Nikolai's gaze holds mine for a moment, and the next thing I know, I’m totally and completely lost in it. Everything comes flooding in at once. The past few weeks, the way I saw him lose control today just because he saw me in danger, how close he stands now, and the way his arm flexes under my touch.
“Nikolai,” I whisper, parting my lips, my entire body in flames from needing him so much, like I’ll burn right here and now unless I have him. Before I can finish my sentence, he closes the distance between us in one swift motion. His lips crash onto mine like a wave hitting the shore, and everything makes me melt in his arms: desire, relief, fear, longing, and things I don’t have words for.
I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer while his strong hands wrap around my waist, anchoring me to him.
"Anoushka," he groans into my mouth, and I can feel his desire for me—raw, primal, and powerful. It's intoxicating, thrilling, and terrifying all at once. Because I never expected him to make me feel this way.
He slides his tongue into my mouth, and his hands slide from my waist, traveling up my back and pulling me even closer. I shiver at his touch, yearning for more, and arch my back, letting his hand further down till he cups my ass. I gasp and throw back my head, and he leans into me, my breasts pressing against his shirt.
His hands slide down to the hem of my dress, and he teases the skin beneath. Electricity sparks up my thigh until I tremble at my knees. I lift one leg, wrap it around his lower calf, and reach for his shirt, clutching it in my hands like a lifeline.
I don’t want this moment to end.