14. Nikolai
14
Nikolai
I untie my golden goddess, slowly removing the blindfold and letting her adjust to the soft glow of the firelight carrying into the bedroom through the open door to the living space. Her eyes meet mine, and the vulnerability there punches me in the gut. I pull her into my arms, wrapping her tightly against me.
Our breaths synchronize, our heartbeats slowing into the same rhythm. I’m not one for pretty words, but I know this: Sabina is mine. And I’ll destroy anyone who dares touch her.
“That was…” she begins, her voice trembling. She stops, her cheeks flushed, her lashes sweeping down.
“Perfection,” I murmur, my lips brushing her temple. “You are perfection.”
She lets out a soft laugh, but it wavers, almost shy, before her expression shifts. Then worry slides across her features.
“I’m an idiot,” she says, sitting up and looking at me. “We didn’t use a condom.”
“You’re on the pill,” I say calmly.
Her brows knit, and she looks at me with startled eyes. “How do you know that?”
I glance toward her purse on the nightstand, battered from the chaos of the past few days but still intact. “I’ve seen you take them,” I admit. “And if you’re worried about anything else, you don’t need to be. I haven’t been with anyone since the night of your engagement party.”
She freezes, staring at me like I’ve just grown a second cock.
“Since my engagement party? That was months ago,” she says, her voice rising. “I don’t understand.”
I sit up, mirroring her, and hold her gaze. My voice is steady, unflinching. “That night, I asked your brother for your hand in marriage. Even though he refused, in my mind, I’d already committed to you. And I don’t cheat.”
The words hang in the air between us, the silence sharp and brittle as she processes what I’ve said. Her lips part, but no sound comes out at first. Finally, she whispers, “You… committed to me?”
I nod, my fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I knew what I wanted, even then. You.”
She shakes her head, her eyes wide and shimmering with unspoken emotion. “I—I haven’t been with anyone in three years. Not since that night…”
Her words trail off, but I know the night she’s talking about. The night she was forced to take a life.
“That boy you were engaged to…?”
“No,” she says with a shake of her head.
Her admission makes the animal inside me sit up and roar.
“Good,” I say.
She cuts me a glance and shakes her head. “Neanderthal.”
I reach out, cupping her face in my hands. “Sabina,” I say, my voice low and firm. “This isn’t just sex for me. It’s not a game. This—what we have—is something…different.”
Her breath catches, her hands trembling as they cover mine.
“I’ve never felt this way,” she admits. Her words are barely above a whisper, but the weight of them crashes into me like a tidal wave. “Not about anyone. Not like this. But, this isn’t real. This is a fairy tale, a moment out of time. In the real world, you’re still—”
I press my finger to her lips, cutting her off.
“In the real world, you will still be mine,” I say, my voice unwavering. “Always.”
She huffs a soft, almost sad laugh. “That isn’t how this works. You are still an Ivanov, still my enemy—”
“Your father and my uncle Vlasta were allies,” I interrupt, my voice sharp. “Being enemies isn’t written in stone.”
She says nothing, only climbs from the bed and pulls on the sweatshirt and sweatpants, her expression unreadable. Then she glances at me, and I see a storm of emotions reflected in her light blue eyes. Trust. Longing. Fear. It’s all there, and it makes something sharp twist in my chest. Something raw and unnamed. Something I don’t know how to hold.
I don’t know what love is. It was a fleeting wish in my childhood, a wisp of smoke I could never hold. I don’t believe in it, don’t trust it. But if I did—if I could—I think that maybe Sabina would be it. But I can’t give her love. Only possession, obsession, protection.
I need to move. To act. To protect her.
“I’m going to check the perimeter,” I say, rising and dragging on my jeans.
When I step outside, the storm greets me with biting cold, the wind slapping my face as snow swirls in chaotic eddies. The earlier calm has vanished. The storm rages once more, a mirror to the chaos in my head.
The alarms I set earlier, small and discreet devices hidden among the trees, remain silent for now. Still, I check their perimeter, methodical and precise. Each device is a safeguard, a silent warning system that will give me precious seconds to act if anyone gets too close.
I’ve placed weapons in hidden locations around the cabin, concealed under fallen branches and brush. I’ve planted them at key points, each one prepped with a full magazine. If it comes to a fight, I won’t be wasting time reloading. I’ll move, strike, and disappear before they realize what’s happening. Hit them from different angles.
I’m about to head back inside when I hear it—a faint hum, low and steady, barely discernible over the howling wind. Motors. The sound carries through the storm, distant but growing closer. The motors rev aggressively, their cadence erratic, reckless. These men don’t care about being heard. They think they have the advantage. Vasiliev’s thugs. It has to be.
I drop to a crouch, my fingers tightening on my gun as I scan the distance. Through the swirling snow, faint lights flicker. Snowmobiles. Too bright, too exposed. These men are sloppy, arrogant. Exactly what I’d expect from Vasiliev’s crew.
I retreat toward the cabin, circling wide to avoid detection. The snow muffles my steps as I move with deliberate precision. The hum grows louder, grinding against my nerves like a warning bell. They’re coming fast.
But then, piercing through the chaos, I hear something else—a faint whistle. Sharp, deliberate. My body stills, instincts firing on all cylinders. The whistle repeats, low and controlled, cutting through the wind. A signal. And not from Vasiliev’s men. I lower my weapon slightly, tension easing.
Two figures emerge from the trees, stepping into view with purpose. Luca Romano, Leo’s right-hand man, and Cassio Russo, the youngest of the Russo brothers. Their postures radiate calm control, their movements silent despite the crunch of snow beneath their boots.
Luca is built like a fortress—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that miss nothing and dark hair cropped close to his head. He moves with an ease that belies his size, every step calculated. Cassio is all easygoing charm, the ends of his wavy blond hair poking out from beneath his woolen beanie. But the steel in his blue eyes says he’s not here to play.
“You’re late,” I say, my voice low but sharp. “You were supposed to be here yesterday.”
Luca smirks, his dark eyes narrowing. “Apparently, Mother Nature didn’t get the memo about your schedule.”
“Ever try parallel parking a snowmobile in a blizzard? It’s a goddamn spectator sport,” Cassio adds with a wry grin.
I stare at them. “Did Leo send reinforcements or clowns? Either way, try not to make me regret this.”
Cassio barks out a laugh.
Luca nods toward the cabin. “She’s inside?”
“For now,” I reply. I nod toward the direction of the approaching sound. “Your timing is perfect, actually. The Vasilievs are here—or will be soon.” I quickly fill them in on how the limo was hit and everything that went down after. The last I spoke with Leo was when I called him from the car to confirm I had Sabina and she was safe. I hadn’t been able to contact him since then, given that Vasiliev’s men shot my phone.
Cassio’s expression hardens, the easy smile on his lips vanishing. “Is my sister safe?”
“Safe as a bug in a rug,” I say.
Luca tips his head. “I think the expression is snug as a bug in a rug.”
I snarl at him. “No one gets close to her unless they want to dig their own grave.”
Cassio sends me a curious look and steps between us. “Does she know they’re coming?”
“No,” I answer. “And she doesn’t need to. She’ll stay safe if we do this right.”
Cassio’s quiet for a moment, then he asks, “Does she know you’re working with Leo?”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?” he asks. “You’ve kept her here for days, letting her think you fucking kidnapped her?”
“I did kidnap her,” I point out, my tone calm, reasonable. “As to why I didn’t tell her I’m working with Leo…do you think she would have believed me?”
Cassio huffs a low laugh. “No. Definitely not.”
Luca crosses his arms, his massive frame blocking out the wind. “What’s the play?”
I nod toward the trees flanking the clearing. “Positions on either side. Stay low, stay quiet. When I engage, take out anyone who moves.”
Cassio looks like he wants to argue, his jaw tight. “If they lay a hand on her—”
“They won’t,” I cut him off, my voice cold as steel. “I’ll make sure of it.”
Luca claps Cassio on the shoulder, a silent order to stand down. With one last glance at the cabin, they slip into the shadows, their movements soundless despite the snow.
Moments later, I hear a soft, high-pitched chirp to the north, one of the sensors alerting me to unwanted company. I crouch low, my pulse steady as I scan the tree line. Shadows shift among the pines. Four figures, moving in tight formation.
The Vasilievs.
They move with purpose, their posture confident. Arrogant. They don’t even bother to try and mask the sounds of their arrival. They think they’ve caught me off guard. They’re wrong.
These men are used to taking what they want, unchallenged. It’s their first mistake.
The snow carries their sounds to me—the crunch of boots, the faint clink of weapons. They think the storm masks their approach, but I’ve been listening to the wilderness for days now. I know every sound it makes and when something doesn’t belong. The break in the weather allowed them to get here, but it also cleared the air, making them easier to track. Sloppy.
They’re moving toward the cabin—
Wait…now I see only three dark shapes between the trees. Where the fuck is the fourth man?
I slip back toward the cabin, keeping low. I circle to the opposite side, my mind racing. I need to get Sabina out of sight, to pull her to safety—
The front door of the cabin bursts open with a crash, the sound splitting the air like a gunshot. My heart seizes as I hear Sabina’s startled cry, followed by the heavy shuffle of boots.
“Where is he, bitch?” one of the men snarls, his voice rough and filled with sadistic glee.
Rage burns through me, hot and suffocating. I flatten myself against the cabin’s wall, forcing myself to breathe, to think. Charging in now would be suicide. I need to wait for the right moment.
The thugs drag Sabina into the snow, their hands gripping her arms like she’s a trophy. She struggles, her movements sharp and furious, but they’re too strong. One of them shoves her forward, and she stumbles but doesn’t fall. Her defiance makes my chest swell with a twisted pride. That’s my goddess.
But pride won’t save her.
I shift my gaze to the tree line where Luca and Cassio are in position, their weapons drawn, their faces grim. I raise my hand in a subtle signal, my body coiled tight as I wait.
The leader of the group steps forward. His voice carries through the clearing, mocking and cruel.
“Nikolai Ivanov!” he booms. “Come out, or the girl gets a bullet in her head!”
The girl. He has no idea who she is. Good.
Sabina glares at him.
“When he comes for you, you’ll wish you were dead,” she says, her voice sharp and unyielding.
Her words send a jolt through me, a mix of rage and admiration. Even now, even surrounded, she doesn’t back down. That’s my Sabina.
The leader laughs, cold and callous. He grabs her chin roughly, forcing her face toward him.
“Feisty,” he sneers. “I like that. Maybe I’ll keep you for myself after I deal with your boyfriend.”
Every muscle in my body locks, my vision narrowing. I don’t hear the wind or feel the cold. All I can see is his hand on her, his smug grin. He doesn’t know he’s signed his death warrant.
I give another subtle signal to Luca and Cassio. Their weapons shift slightly, their focus zeroing in. They’re waiting for my lead, but their tension is palpable. They’re ready.
The leader jerks Sabina by the arm, dragging her to her knees in the snow. Her breath puffs white in the cold air, sharp and uneven, but her eyes stay locked on him, unflinching. She’s afraid, but she doesn’t show it. She knows I’m here. She trusts me.
I’m not going to let her down.
The leader presses his gun to Sabina’s temple, his smirk widening.
“Come on, Ivanov! Don’t make us wait! Or maybe you’re just a coward after all.”
My fingers brush the grip of my gun, my mind calculating every angle. He’s exposed, his back to me. Two more thugs are spread out, their attention split between the cabin and the woods. The fourth is stationed near the tree line, his rifle raised but his posture relaxed. Arrogant. Reckless.
They have no idea they’ve already lost.
I inhale slowly, steadying my pulse. Every movement from here needs to be precise, calculated. I give a slight nod to Luca, then to Cassio. Their weapons shift, their focus narrowing. We’re ready.
The leader’s finger twitches on the trigger, and I make my move.
The first shot cracks through the air, sharp and decisive, silencing the storm for a heartbeat. The thug at the tree line drops, a clean bullet wound cutting through his skull. Blood sprays against the snow, his body crumpling with a soft thud.
Chaos erupts.
The leader whirls around, dragging Sabina up as a shield. His eyes widen in shock, then fury. “What the—”
Before he can finish, Luca and Cassio unleash hell. Their bullets carve through the clearing, each shot deliberate and lethal. The thug closest to the cabin barely has time to react before he’s hit, a round tearing through his chest. He collapses, his weapon falling from his grip as he gasps for air he’ll never find.
The remaining thug dives for cover behind a tree, his movements frantic. The leader tightens his grip on Sabina, pressing his gun harder against her head. His face is twisted in rage and desperation.
“Stop!” he roars, his voice cracking. “Stop, or she dies!”
I step into the clearing, my gun raised, my gaze locked on the leader. He turns his focus to me, his smirk returning despite the blood staining the snow around him.
“There he is,” he sneers. “The great Nikolai Ivanov.”
“Let her go,” I say, my voice calm, cold. Deadly.
“Or what?” he taunts, his grip tightening on Sabina. “You’ll shoot? Go ahead. See if you can hit me before I pull the trigger.”
I take another step forward, my focus unyielding. “You’re surrounded. You’re outnumbered. And you’re out of time.”
He laughs, sharp and grating, but there’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “You think I’m scared of you?”
“Maybe not,” I reply, my lips curling into a faint smile. “But you should be.”
His smirk falters, his confusion flickering to fear. He doesn’t see Luca shifting, doesn’t hear Cassio reposition. He doesn’t realize his own men are already dead or dying.
He doesn’t know he’s standing at the edge of his own grave.
Luca moves first, his shot precise. The bullet rips through the leader’s shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon with a cry of pain. Sabina twists free, her knee driving into his stomach as she wrenches herself away from him.
I’m there in an instant, pulling her behind me, my gun trained on the leader as he stumbles back, clutching his shoulder. He glares at me, blood dripping from his wound, his defiance crumbling under the weight of his failure.
“This is for threatening her,” I say, my voice low and lethal, the sharp precision of my words slicing through the icy air. My first shot tears through his knee, the crack of the bullet echoing like a judge’s gavel. He collapses into the snow with a howl, clutching at the mangled joint as blood pours freely, staining the pristine white.
I take another step forward, every movement deliberate, my gaze fixed on him with cold focus. “This is for touching her.” My next shot shatters his elbow, forcing a broken scream from his throat. He writhes in the snow, his body jerking.
But I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
The world around me contracts, leaving only the battered figure in front of me and the fire roaring in my chest. Justice isn’t enough—not for this. Retribution demands more. He frightened her. Touched her.
“This is for even thinking about her,” I say, my voice devoid of mercy. The next bullet slams into his other knee, the sharp crack of bone followed by another agonized wail. His body convulses, his movements sluggish as the blood loss and pain drag him closer to oblivion.
I lower my weapon slowly, the click of the safety a cold punctuation in the frozen air.
He’s gasping now, his breath ragged, his eyes wild with pain and terror. His remaining hand claws weakly at the snow, trying and failing to drag his broken body away.
I crouch beside him, close enough for his bloodshot eyes to lock on mine.
“You thought you could touch her?” I ask, pulling the garotte from my back pocket. The wire gleams against the stark white of the snow, a silent promise.
“No,” he croaks, his voice a pathetic rasp, but it’s too late for words.
The garotte slips around his throat, the tension in the wire as exacting as my rage. He gurgles, his hand scrabbling weakly at the thin steel biting into his flesh. I tighten the loop, my muscles coiled and unyielding, until his struggles slow, then cease entirely.
When it’s done, his body slumps forward, lifeless and heavy against the snow. I stand, uncoiling the garotte with practiced precision, the wire slick with his blood. The cold air bites at my face, but it’s nothing compared to the storm churning inside me.
I drop the garotte back into my pocket, my breath visible in the icy air. My gaze shifts, unblinking, to where Luca and Cassio stand at the edge of the clearing.
They’re watching me—Luca with an inscrutable expression, his dark eyes narrowed as if calculating something, and Cassio with a raised brow, his usual easy charm replaced with cautious curiosity. Neither says a word, but their silence speaks volumes.
Luca finally steps forward, his boots crunching through the snow. He glances down at the crumpled body at my feet, then back at me.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he says, his voice dry, laced with dark humor.
I don’t respond. My eyes flick to Sabina. She’s standing just behind Cassio, wrapped in his coat now, her arms hugging her middle like she’s holding herself together. Her expression is blank, unreadable, but her eyes—those light, luminous eyes—are locked on mine.
She doesn’t look away. She doesn’t flinch.
I want to say something, to bridge the silence between us, but the words won’t come. Instead, I take a step toward her, drawn by an invisible thread that only seems to tighten the closer I get.
“Sabina—”
Cassio moves, stepping between us, his hand on her shoulder as he gently guides her back. His gaze on me is sharp, protective, his jaw tight. “We need to go. Now.”
Luca nods, already scanning the tree line with his weapon raised. “He’s right. We can’t risk hanging around. More men could be on the way.”
Sabina doesn’t argue. She lets Cassio guide her toward the cabin, but her steps are hesitant, her head turning back toward me.
I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching as she disappears inside.
Luca stays behind for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “You good?” he asks, his voice low.
“I’m fine,” I reply, though the weight pressing on my chest says otherwise.
Luca’s gaze flicks to the blood-stained snow, then back to me. “You sure about that?”
I don’t answer. He gives a short nod, something like understanding crossing his face, and then follows Cassio and Sabina into the cabin.
The clearing is silent now, save for the whisper of the wind. I stand there, staring at the crimson-streaked snow, my fingers curling and uncurling at my sides.
I should feel relief. Satisfaction. But all I feel is the ache of her absence.
And the unrelenting certainty that letting her go, even for her safety, is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
But I have unfinished business to complete and I need her safe while I do. For the moment, the safest place for her is in with her family.