9. Niko
CHAPTER 9
I step inside, immediately feeling the chill in the room. My pretty princess is seated behind my desk in my oversized wingback chair. The ornate leather accents her blood-coated skin. Antonine is splashed all over her perfect face, and thick rage sears my veins at the sight of any part of him touching her.
Her deep brown eyes are almost black as she stares at me with pure hate. Sweeps of brown curls tumble around her head, messy, blood coated, but startlingly beautiful. A little line digs in her forehead.
I'm so taken with her image I forget why it's such an unfortunate thing for Gianna to be in my office. Why the look of hatred in her eyes is so much more intense than the last time I saw her.
Spread on the desk in front of her are a series of pictures, ones I know all too well. I've not spent a lot of time checking on her over the years, but it's hard to deny how invasive I was when the pictures are all laid out in front of us.
Gianna in class, in her bed, in her panties, riding the cock of some piece of shit I killed after I watched them, riding the cock of another I didn't. I only spent two or three days a year following her, but when I did, I went all out.
"Are you going to fucking say something, Niko?" Are her lips red from her biting them, or is it his blood? I can’t stand for any part of him to be inside her.
I say nothing, trying to organize my thoughts as the crushing sense of rage swarms me. She’s sitting here looking through my shit, actively endangering herself. If she doesn’t get that fucking blood off her.
“I swear to God, Nikolai. Say anything at all.” She slaps the table, and the impact is just one more item pushing me toward losing my fucking mind. I really can’t think of anything that would make this better, but I can make it a lot worse. I plan to do just that.
"Have you heard of bloodborne pathogens, Gianna?"
Her mouth pops open, her outrage so delicious I want to kiss it off her face, make her moan for me like she did for those pieces of shit in the pictures, spank her ass black and blue for making a mess and going through my shit. I want to hurt her.
"How about you explain whatever the fuck this is?" She gestures to the images she's spread Antonine's blood all over, and each fingerprint is a spank I plan to lay across her ass. Those. Were. Mine.
“They’re pictures of you, Gi. Since when are you clueless?”
I gather them up and inspect the damage. Antonine fucked more whores than anyone I’ve ever known, and it looks like she traced the details of each image. I scoff in disgust as I toss them in the trash.
Most of them can be reprinted, but there are a few from college taken on film that can't. My fists clench, and I work as hard as I can not to show just how angry I am right now. I would never hurt her. I’m going to hurt her. Fuck.
“What is your problem?” she demands as she gestures to the trash like she’s the one who should be pissed. Well, she didn’t have years of effort wasted. She isn’t watching the love of her life covered in another man’s blood. She isn’t wondering what the fuck happened and feeling like a failure. I couldn’t keep her safe for one day.
"Frankly, I don't appreciate you breaking into my office after committing a murder in my kitchen and then touching all my stuff with your bloody fingers." I don’t appreciate being so weak I can’t keep you safe in my own home. How can I take my father’s position when I can’t protect what’s mine?
I walk around the room looking at all the things she's touched. There's blood everywhere.
"Nikolai, are you actually pissed at me right now?" Her tone says she’s looking for a fight, and that’s fine. I want one too.
“Did you have to touch everything? Couldn’t leave one damn mystery?” I’m getting hot. That tightness in my chest is back. “How did you even see Antonine to kill him? What the fuck happened?”
“He broke in and tried to attack me, but glad to know you’d rather I let him attack me than defend myself.” Her sarcastic tone is scathing.
“I would not prefer that. If I were here, I would have done a hell of a lot worse to him.”
“But you weren’t here.” I know that. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to be angry after everything you’ve done. I can’t believe you’re pissed with this sitting right here!” She gestures toward the trash can where my pictures lie.
“I'm not pissed at you.”
I am, but I’m more mad at myself.
"And I get that you have a right to be upset."
But really this upset? Your dad was a fucking dick who was going to sell you to the Russians and you hated your mom. So what if I followed you? At least someone loves you, miserably, completely.
"You're an awful liar." I’m an amazing liar, but she’s always seen right through me.
“I can't believe you didn't even shower before going through my shit. This is disgusting. His blood is on your lips!”
She grimaces, but persists with her incessant questioning.
“Explain this, Niko. Explain it right now, or I'm going to think the worst.”
She stands up to make her point and the pretty shirt and jeans she’s wearing are entirely ruined beneath the blood.
"Is there actually a worse option than I've been stalking you for fifteen years?" I gesture toward her and the absurdity of the situation. She stops in her tracks and cocks her head to the side.
"You've done what?" She blinks rapidly, and her surprise pops my building rage.
"I’ve stalked you for roughly three days a year for the past fifteen years.”
Her eyes fall closed, and she breathes slowly. A tear builds in her lashes, but she wipes it away before opening her eyes again.
“These weren’t taken by a PI? You’re not having me tailed?”
She stares deeply into my eyes, and she’s searching for something, even if I don’t have a clue what. Her face is open and soft, like I’ve done something right.
“It’s like a pervert vacation where I stare at what I want most in the world. I watch other men fuck her, and I rub my cock, wishing I wasn’t too much of a coward to go and get her for myself.”
I take an aggressive step toward her, and she steps back. I gesture toward the trash can where my trophies lie in ruin.
“Reminders of my own weakness. The only moments I got to spend with the only woman I’d ever love.”
“You kept souvenirs of me fucking other people? You’re so screwed in the head.” She's aiming for harsh, but the tremble in her voice weakens it. She’s not wrong, though. I am sick, but the pink flush spreading across her cheeks is a good sign she is too.
"I watched you do more than that, princess. I watched you sleep, wishing I could lay next to you, watched you pray, wishing you’d tell me all your hopes and dreams. I watched you cry, wishing I could crush anything that might hurt you. Then I had to leave you.”
I stroke her cheeks, trying to press my longing into her skin, but I don’t tell her how much I hated leaving. Every year when I followed her, I seriously considered abandoning my duties to run away with her. I should have done it when I had the chance, and she doesn’t need me to tell her I should have done better by her. We both know it.
That softness has spread across her features, and there’s something so tender in her expression I’m stupid enough to hope she might love me back. We stare at each other for a moment, and there’s definitely something between us before she says, "Yeah, there are worse options than what it looked like." But doesn't elaborate.
She tries to look away from me, but I tip her chin up. I’m too big and strong for her to escape. I won’t let her go.
"I am so sorry, Gi. For every bit of pain I’ve ever caused you. I hope you know that.”
“How could I know that?”
“Can’t you feel it when I look at you?”
Her lips tremble, and for a moment, I think I’m winning her over, but then her expression hardens.
"Says the man who killed everyone I love."
I’m losing her when I was so close to getting her. I need her. It was one thing when I had three days a year and I had to live with it, but I could touch her and smell her, and I couldn’t live without her anymore.
“I didn’t kill your brother!” I shout the words in her face like the clueless asshole she makes me.
“You know who did?” she demands with a gasp.
I shouldn’t have said it. I regret it the minute it slips out, but I’m getting tired of the accusations fast. I know I’m wrong; I know I did everything wrong, but goddammit, I’m not responsible for all of her problems. Her father and mine are the reason we’re all in this mess.
“Of course not. I just know I didn’t.”
She stares at me, ripping through my soul and turning over all my secrets. She could find things buried much more deeply than something most in our world already know. She’s the odd man out. Stefan is the liar.
“I told you, you can’t lie for shit, Niko.”
I’m still holding her face between my hands, and she’s so soft that I just want to stroke her skin and tell her how lovely she is. How amazing it feels to be back with her, and I’d rather die than never touch her again. That I risked my whole life to protect hers. That Antonine’s blood isn’t even making my skin crawl with her near me.
“Let’s not talk about this now,” I beg. How can I apologize for hurting her and then crush her moments later? We’re both frantic, but for completely different reasons.
“Niko, please, do you know?” She cocks her head to the side, laying her cheek against my palm. “Just tell me if you know the truth.”
“Yeah, of course I do.”