Chapter 8 — Nial
I was barely three blocks from the compound when I felt it in my chest. A strange unease. At first, I ignored it, thinking it was nothing serious, especially since she’d been on my mind since I left the compound.
The images of her face and the sound of her voice kept replaying in my head, over and over again, keeping me distracted. So distracted, in fact, that I almost ran into a pedestrian trying to cross the road.
Luckily for him, I slammed on the brakes on time.
“Learn to fuckin’ drive, asshole!” he yelled, flipping me off with both hands.
I didn’t react, didn’t even look his way twice. Instead, I just drove away with one hand on the steering wheel as the city lights slid across the windshield.
The further I drove, the more my chest tightened. I couldn’t understand why I felt so uneasy after leaving her at the compound. The place was guarded, and the men knew better than to go against my instructions.
Escaping was also impossible. I was damn sure of that. Then what exactly was this strange force pulling me back toward her? I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
I combed my fingers through my hair as I sped through the city, as though if I moved fast enough, the unease would cease. Instead, it grew worse. I fought the feeling, telling myself there was no reason to go back.
Yet, it persisted, and I felt it more than before, that low pressure beneath my ribs. There was no way in hell that I was going to know peace if I didn’t give in to these feelings.
I wasn’t sure whether it was instinct or just strategic reassessment. All I knew was that something was pulling me back to the compound. Coincidentally, when I glanced out the window, my eyes caught a sign by the side of the road: the U-turn sign.
I ignored it and kept going.
A few minutes later, I saw a billboard with the face of a gorgeous model and a write-up beside it. Of course, I didn’t bother reading it. However, for some reason, a sentence caught my attention.
Sometimes all you need to do is turn around….
The words were written in block letters, and I felt them land heavily on my chest. First, the U-turn sign, and now this. Was the universe trying to tell me something?
At the next intersection, I saw another U-turn sign and a smaller billboard reading Listen to Your Heart.
Once could be ruled out as a coincidence.
Twice the same thing.
But three times and above…. That was a message worth considering, and it was one I shouldn’t take lightly.
“Fuck it,” I murmured under my breath, turning the wheel sharply.
The tires screeched against the asphalt as the car made a clean U-turn. I slammed on the accelerator, my vehicle speeding through the night like a fuckin’ missile.
I felt the pull grow stronger, and I knew I was on the right track. My grip tightened on the steering wheel, my face a mask of concentration. A couple of drivers cursed at my reckless speeding, but I couldn’t care less.
The city blurred past me in a flash as I weaved through traffic, my expression stern. With each passing second, my speedometer needle climbed into the triple digits.
I swerved my car through the streets, taking sharp, dangerous turns, all in a bid to reach the compound on time. The closer I drew to my destination, the stronger the unease in my chest grew.
Although I had no idea why I was driving back to my little prisoner, I knew I’d made the right decision. Because I’d driven so fast, I arrived at the compound in no time.
Dust rose into the air as I rolled in through the gates. That’s when I spotted it—the family car parked outside the building. I pulled up beside it, killed the engine, and stepped out into the night.
My jaw tightened when I realized whose car it was. My cousin Vika’s. If that asshole was here, then whatever had pulled me back here did it for a good reason.
One of the guards approached me, asking if I had forgotten something.
“Where is she?” I asked him.
“Who, the girl? She’s in her cell.”
I headed into the building, up the stairs, down the hallway, where I spotted her cell door ajar. Then I heard it; that unmistakable cry for help. My heart sank when I realized I was the one she was calling for.
“Nial!!!”
Without hesitation, I rushed over to her cell with a few strides and barged in.
The idiot already had her pinned down on the bed and had his dick out, ready for a forceful entry. She was struggling beneath him, but he was stronger and more vicious.
“Nial can’t save you from me, Princess—no one can!” He laughed.
That horrible sight detonated something within me. And whatever restraint I had left in me disintegrated immediately.
“Vika!” I thundered, my voice laced with fury as I crossed the room in three steps.
Shocked, he glanced back at me with wide eyes. I grabbed him by the shirt and, with a single pull, hurled him across the space. His back hit the wall before thudding to the ground.
I looked at her as she rolled off the mattress and crawled into a corner, shaking. Her legs were pulled up in front of her as she adjusted the sleeves of her top.
“What the hell, man?” Vika groaned, struggling to his feet.
With my restraint fractured, I threw an even heavier punch that knocked him down again. His head smashed into the concrete, leaving a blood stain on the floor. He spat out thick crimson liquid and glared up at me, his eyes burning with fury.
“I can’t believe my eyes.” I rose to his feet again, his voice dripping with anger. “You struck me because of that thing?” he yelled, pointing in her direction. “Since when did you start defending disposable whores?!”
The second punch hit before he could blink. His hands flew to his broken nose as he stumbled back, groaning like a wounded beast.
“Were you not informed?” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “She’s my business now. Not yours. Not the Bratva’s. Mine.”
His chest heaved with uneven breaths, his eyes blazing with fury.
I took one step forward, holding his gaze. “I’m responsible for this one. And as such, you’re not allowed anywhere near her.” The words were spoken in Russian before I switched back to English. “Do you understand?”
He locked his jaw, wiping the blood from his broken nose. “They told me the American girl has warped your mind, but I didn’t listen,” he said in Russian, straightening. “I guess I was wrong. You’re weakening…over a girl.” His tone was laced with irritation and mockery.
“Get out,” I growled in English, clenching my fists so tightly my hands trembled.
He curled his lips into a mischievous grin and stole a glance at Keira. Vika met my gaze again and whispered as he left, “This is far from over.”
His shoes scuffed against the concrete as he walked out and slammed the door so hard it rattled the walls.
By the time I turned around, she was already on her feet. The expression on her face was blank. Her spine had straightened, and the fear I had once seen in her eyes had vanished, replaced by something slightly darker.
The silence that followed was heavier than the brawl. She stood across the room, eyes locked on mine, hands clenched at her sides. Not trembling. Just tight.
I noticed the redness on her wrist and assumed it was where Vika had grabbed her. I felt the urge to ask if she was okay, if the bastard had hurt her. But in the end, I didn’t.
She combed her fingers through her tousled hair, her chest rising and falling with slow breaths. We stared into each other’s eyes without saying a word. And after a moment, I turned around and began walking toward the door.
I felt an unfamiliar guilt in my stomach, one that made me wonder what would’ve happened to her if I’d been a minute late. Perhaps I never should’ve left her here all by herself. Perhaps it was better to keep her close to me now. Get her to a place where I was sure she’d be safer.
A few feet away from her, I stopped in my tracks, glancing back in her direction. “Are you coming or what?”
She hesitated for a second. “Coming where?”
“If you like it here, that’s fine.” I grabbed the door and yanked it open.
“Wait.” She took a step forward and began walking over to me.
Together, we headed out of the building and got into my vehicle. I started the engine and drove away with her riding shotgun. During the drive to my place, the car’s cabin was quiet until she broke the silence.
“Who was that?”
I hesitated, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “My cousin, Vika.”
She glanced at me, hands clasped in her lap, a frown on her face. “Well, he’s an asshole, a fuckin’ pervert.”
“That…we can agree on,” I replied softly, steering the vehicle down another street.
“Vika has always been a disgrace. He has no honor and indulges himself in activities like trafficking women.” The anger in my voice was palpable even though I tried to mask it.
“Because he’s family, the rest of us are supposed to cover for him. We’re all monsters anyway.”
She paused, as if processing my words. “So, the trafficking case I was working on…that was him?”
Silence.
I didn’t confirm or deny it.