3. Niko
CHAPTER 3
Fyodor Domalachego, Fyodor Domalachego.
The name of the Bratva Pahkan rolls around my head like a molten ball of metal, decimating everything it touches.
I should have killed Stefan Gemelli slower, gutted him and left him to juggle his own intestines before dying in agony. How could he give her to the Russians after what happened to his son? I grit my teeth and check how in control I am. Not very.
Smoke clings to my skin and hair, and the acrid scent of chemicals trails behind it. Gianna cries from the back seat, though she’s not even bound, a luxury I would only afford my princess. She doesn’t stink like the fire because I locked her in the car before committing arson.
It’s been an hour since we left the house, and my ears still ring from the nearly explosive force of the illegal accelerant I used to burn the place down. She begged me not to, and I really wanted to give my princess what she wanted, but I couldn’t risk anyone noticing her body's absence from that table.
If my father ever found out she was alive, he would immediately correct the issue. I’m going to have to kill the man eventually, but I’m not ready to take on the weight of running our entire territory, which will double after my father takes credit for this tonight. So I’m stuck beneath his thumb for a few more years, and Gianna is stuck with me.
As far as he or anyone will ever know, the last of the Gemellis died over their dinner tonight. Her cousins are already dead, not that she needs to know that. I sent the baby to a church, not having the heart to kill something so small. I couldn’t offer the same to the older children and teens who would remember and want revenge at some point. And while what I’ve done seems cruel, I saved her from a much worse fate. And she is the only one I care about.
Domalachego won’t disappear without a convincing set of corpses nor will her father’s remaining men fall in line.
“Dante, Dante…” she cries for her brother again, and I don’t have any clue why she’s talking about him when her parents just died.
Something about her is intensely off, and it seems like more than this trauma. I’ve been looking for her for months with no success. Prior to this, there hasn’t been a time since we met when I didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. These past six months has been hell.
My father sent her the birthday card with the severed head to fuck with me—something he took great pleasure in lording over me, knowing I couldn’t stop him. But the real effect was Stefan stuffing Gianna so far away I couldn’t find her for anything. I don’t think my father knows about my habits where she’s concerned since he hasn’t mocked me over it, but it’s unwise to underestimate him.
Pitch black surrounds us. Not one star interrupts it. The night understands our need for secrecy. The highway moves beneath us, putting distance between her and a life she can never have back, a life I wouldn’t return her to for anything now that I finally know where she is again.
The coroner works outside our normal jurisdiction, but he’s already been paid off. I’ve dug up some pretty nasty shit on him if I need to extort him for his silence down the road. The dead woman I brought to replace Gi is a pretty close physical match, and there won’t be a DNA test. Shooting her already rotting corpse through the skull was frankly repulsive but worth it.
Sniffle-sobs occasionally echo from behind me, but I won’t regret my actions when they are the reason she’s here. The thrill from her presence chases out the worst of my anger and guilt—something I consider strictly different from regret. Being her protector almost makes me feel worthy of being called a man.
Until reality rearranges the picture. I’m her parents' killer and her stalker. She will never love me.
Gianna would have been the third Mrs. Domalachego. The first two died when he got bored of beating them. His two sons are nearly men now and, by all accounts, just as vicious as their father. Perhaps he planned to pass Gianna off to them when he was done. He certainly doesn’t need more children.
My gaze flicks to the rearview, where the dull light from the dash illuminates a nearly naked Gianna. She sits beside the bag of clothes I pulled out of her car before killing her parents and abducting her. Stripping her naked and tossing her in the back seat was a poor choice, even if I did get a flash of her cunt. I’ve decided as much as another shiver shakes her tits.
“Put on your clothes, Gi. They’re right next to you.”
She just nods.
“You’re cold.”
Another nod.
“It’s time to be reasonable and get dressed, Gianna.” This is the type of rationale I use on myself multiple times a day as I’m forced to do my father’s bidding.
Nothing.
I sigh, my frustration mounting. I don’t want to hurt her, but that’s what I’ve had to do again and again. I’ve never been able to be with her the way I want. The least I should be able to do is keep her warm. Her teeth chatter—a sound designed explicitly to bother me. Her discomfort creeps up my back, and I’m about to fucking explode.
“When did your tits get so big? They’re all I can think about. My cock is so hard right now thinking about fucking you like I used to. Maybe I should pull over.” It's a manipulation tactic, but it’s also true.
She shudders in disgust but finally unzips the bag. The oversized T-shirt she puts on is a relief for so many reasons. She doesn’t grab a pair of panties or pull the shirt over her ass, and that’s somehow more distracting than her complete nudity. I’ll take my wins where I can get them because she’s already shivering less.
“Niko,” she finally speaks to me directly now that her teeth aren’t chattering. It’s the first time in hours since she begged me to kill her. My heart skips a beat at the address.
“Gianna?”
“What are you going to do with me?”
Her question knocks the wind out of my lungs. I can’t pretend I know what my plan is. Save her was ’bout as far as it went when my father ordered me to kill them all. Do anything you can to save her. Locking her in a cage like a pretty bird seems like a viable option. Maybe I’ll sit around from outside the bars and hope she one day forgives the monster who murdered her parents and kept her prisoner. There was a movie about that when we were kids, wasn't there?
I laugh for the first time in months, but it’s hollow. I didn’t realize I was still innocent in any way. The only parts of this plan I’m sure of are switching a similar body for hers and the room I’ve been working on for her for years. The actuality of the days that make a life are another story. What will be left of the woman I love when it all ends?
“It's not a stupid question.”
Is that why she thinks I’m laughing?
It’s been so long since I’ve been honest with anyone about anything, and my tension pops like a bubble as I say, “Of course it’s not a stupid question. I just have no goddamn clue, Gi.” I laugh again from the relief of admitting how clueless I am. I’m my father’s heir, yet I’m nothing more than a high-ranking errand boy who kills.
The corner of my eye trains on the rearview mirror. She stiffens, and her mouth drops open as she appears to contemplate my answer. This kindredness with her swells inside me. She’s a soft and pretty version of my rage, something I can control, unlike myself.
She grits her teeth, and the fact that I annoy her makes me smile because that’s so much better than her wordless grief. “Then why the fuck would you take me, Niko?”
“My father told me to kill you, but I couldn’t do it. So here we are.” There isn’t much more to say about it.
She doesn’t speak for a few more minutes, but she keeps on staring, her gaze threatening my life.
“How long are you planning to keep me?”
“Indefinitely. My father will think you’re dead. You’ll be safe.”
“Safe?”
The single word passes between us, but I know she doesn’t believe me because she starts shaking again.
“You don’t want to know why I killed your parents?” I ask a few minutes later. Why do I want to make her hate me less so badly? I knew what I was doing when I pulled that trigger. We are an hour late and two bullets short of repairing our relationship.
She’s silent before she says, “I already know why you did it, Niko. It’s the obvious conclusion to this war. I just don’t get why you haven’t killed me too, and don’t tell me it’s because you couldn’t. We both know that’s not true.”
The overconfident little bitch is actually wrong. I’d kill her if I could. It would be easier, and I’ve learned the path of least resistance is the one I always take. She doesn’t believe I care because I obeyed my father one too many times. Like she just said, killing her parents was the natural conclusion to this war, but I shouldn’t have been the one to end it.
“There’s a lot of territory that could be held on to with a Gemelli heir. Keeping you is a pragmatic decision.” She’s terrified, traumatized, and she needs a reason to believe she’s not going to die. If she won’t believe my decision is an emotional one, I can provide her another excuse, and I do want to fill her with cum.
Her eyebrows lift in response to my answer.
“Your father wouldn’t want a Gemelli heir.” She’s right about that. The idea would repulse him, but the chance to hurt me might prove too tempting for him to resist. Making me call a child brother who should have been my own son turns me murderous once more, and it’s only a dreadful hypothetical.
“He wouldn’t be the father.” Thick venom fills my voice as I speak, like she might want that when I know full well she’d happily kill the man herself.
She clears her throat.
“Why not?” I wish she hadn’t asked.
I have never stopped loving you. But I don’t say that out loud because she doesn’t want to hear it.
“I wouldn’t allow it.”
“Just like you wouldn’t make me an orphan? You’re just my big, strong protector, right, Niko?”
I nearly growl at the accusation when she’s talking about a father who planned to sell her off without a care in the world for her well-being and a mother who wrote her off by the time she was twelve. Neither deserves her love, not one tear from her eyes.
“Unlike your precious papa, I wasn’t going to let you be sold to that fucking butcher no matter what I had to do. I’d go to shocking lengths for you.” I don’t bring up her mother since we already know how she felt about Gianna.
Her mouth drops open.
“Don’t you dare say that, Nikolai Bouchard. You killed everyone I love. What's shocking is your cruelty.”
Black diamonds catch me in the rearview. I’d crash this car just to look at her another second. I’m an excellent driver. I have a scar on my chest from when I was shot and had to get myself to the mob doc before I bled out. I didn’t veer out of the lines, but with her nearby, I’m all over the fucking road.
“Your family was mostly dead before today. I only finished the job.” If I’m so cruel, let her be shocked.
“You’re a heartless piece of shit.”
I may be a piece of shit, but I’m not heartless. The miserable, weak organ wants to beat out of my chest to get closer to her.
She breaks our eye contact, and I look back at the road in time to avoid the shoulder, but our recovery is slightly rocky. I consider moving her to the trunk for the final leg of our journey. That would be smart and safer for both of us. I know what I need to do, but it’s been so long since I’ve been close to her. I just keep driving, stealing glances at her in the rearview mirror. She’s right. I am a piece of shit, but maybe I don’t care anymore because I finally have her.
“They’re all gone,” she cries to herself, and the frayed bits of my understanding strain.
“You would have been gone. It was them or you,” I snap, not having any right to be frustrated with her right now. Of course she’s not thinking about the fact her family never truly cared about her when I just plugged them both in front of her. But I am. “They were selling you.”
“That’s not true. It didn’t have to be that way. He would have changed his mind.”
“Has he ever changed his mind before, Gianna?”
She cries even harder.
“Look at the evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“Your father sold his only child to a man who has killed two of his wives.” Pain flashes in her eyes as I speak. “A man who…” But I don’t bring up Dante. I can’t do that to her right now.
“I am not an only child!” She doesn’t catch my unfinished sentence, and I’m grateful. The stubborn girl is like a dog with a bone, and despite how much I hated him, I don’t think right now is the moment to eviscerate Stefan’s memory.
“You are now. You have been for five years. Dante is a skeleton, Gianna.” Another gift from your precious papa.
“Fuck you!” she shouts.
“And what did he betray you for, Gianna? To hold on to the port for another six months? Domalachego would have let him live just long enough to get you pregnant and take his men, rightfully.” The Russians aren’t looking to play nice with anyone. They’ll tear this region up and bring the profits back to their real territory.
“Fuck you, Niko!”
“Did you want to get raped, bred, and broken? ’Cause I can happily do the first two, but at least I’m not willing to break you.”
“Shut the fuck up! I hate you!”
“I’m not going to kill you, but your papa certainly planned to send you to your death. If he was such a great man, Gi, why does he sound like such a miserable coward?” May Stefan burn in hell.
She’s quiet for a long moment before she says, “You should know all about being a coward.”
I find it within myself to just shut up because that’s one thing her papa and I truly did have in common. The difference is, I actually love her.