1. Skye #2
I stopped at the last door in the hallway, immediately noticing this one was different from all the others.
The padding on the door was a deep, sultry red—not the expected cold black leather.
Just above the brass knocker, a lone sconce clung to the wall, its candle melted down to a stub, leaving behind curling wax.
I drew a slow, steadying breath and reached for the door handle, only for the door to swing inward on its own, slicing the air from my chest with a soundless swish.
The room was cloaked in matte black. Scarlet candles flickered from iron sconces and clustered candlesticks, casting dancing shadows that licked the walls.
The air was thick with the scent of wax, smoke, and something sweetly decadent.
It felt less like a room and more like a sanctuary of indulgence.
I didn’t even notice I’d moved until I was standing in the center, drawn in as if by spellwork or instinct.
Lush crimson curtains framed the king-sized bed that was draped in intricate gold-embroidered filigree, shimmering like delicate vines spun from sunlight—an opulent centerpiece that dared you to touch, to sink into its luxurious promise.
Along the far wall, a golden bar cart stocked with expensive whiskeys, bourbons, and gin glimmered in the candlelight.
The abundance of alcohol was enough to nurture an alcoholic for weeks.
And, just beyond it, was a chest overflowing with… sex toys.
Jesus Christ.
From the corner of my eye, I caught light under the gap of another door. I trod lightly and quietly across the room, despite the thick rug beneath my shoes that I hoped would muffle the sound.
I cracked open the door and peered down yet another staircase. Had Nikola gone down there? Were the torture rooms in the basement? Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past the Nikolaevs.
Instinctively, I knew that going down there was incredibly stupid. However, my legs didn’t seem to get the memo, because there I was sinking farther below ground.
Exhaling, I took that last step, bracing a hand against the rough wall. Trepidation slithered up my spine with every step, each footfall pulling me deeper into the dark as the light from the room above shrank to a faint and dying ember.
I’d been raised in the criminal world and knew what my family—and many other mafia men—did to their enemies. Being down here… it was like I could feel the violence in the air.
A dark ominous cloud traveled through the hallway, and I expected something to suddenly appear at any moment now. Vibration bled through the walls, punctuated by a rhythmic thud every five seconds. It was the way I imagined the clang of metal on metal would sound.
And as I turned another corner, coming face-to-face with a man bound to a chair, bloodied and bruised, I knew that violence had found me.
A guard who worked for the Nikolaevs was punching him with brass knuckles and a gleam on his face that shook me to my core. But that was nothing compared to the sight of Nikola.
His shirtless upper body was spattered with blood, making the scene appear even more grim. His face was the worst part, rendering me speechless. A merciless, cruel expression hinted to the fact that he actually enjoyed seeing the pain on the tortured man’s face.
The coppery scent of blood hung in the air, clogging my nose. This smell and image would be buried deep in the darkest corner of my mind, where all things I wished to forget went.
A static filled my head and I took a step back, but the ground tilted under me and I reached out for the wall, steadying myself.
Instantly, three sets of eyes shot to me, and I barely stifled a cry of terror. Time froze as we momentarily stared at each other. One heartbeat, two…
My gaze was locked to Nikola’s face, reading his lips. “Why in the fuck can’t the guests keep out of this basement?”
He nodded toward me and his guard instantly advanced on me, fury twisting his rough features. His red-stained palm gripped me by my arm and yanked me so hard my mask slid off my face.
I looked up into his dark eyes and tried to wrench myself free, but his grip clamped around my arm, vise-tight and bruising.
I braced myself to fight back, nails curled and ready to claw, when suddenly his body was yanked backward as if by invisible hands.
He was lifted clean off the ground, his boots scraping against the cold concrete floor before dangling in the air.
I gasped, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. Nikola had him pinned against the cement wall, a hand wrapped around his throat, while the man flailed like a rag doll.
Then he faced me and mouthed, You okay? When I didn’t answer, he followed up in fluent ASL with, “ Are you okay ?”
Too shocked to do anything else, I nodded.
Nikola turned back to his man and dumped him on the floor like a bag of trash, his mouth moving too fast to pick up what he said, but I didn’t imagine it was anything pleasant.
I winced, terrified to witness this side of him, although I’d seen plenty of cruelty in this world. After all, we were the legacy of heathens, and cruelty was inevitable.
Zayka , he mouthed, and it seemed to snap me out of my stupor.
I gave my head a subtle shake, chasing any remaining fear from my bones.
Nikola would never hurt me. Mistaking my silence for fear, he took a hesitant step toward me.
I took one back, staring at him wide-eyed as his lips moved around a plea. “Come on, say something.”
My hands were heavy as I signed slowly, “ Don’t get blood on me. And don’t call me zayka .”
Surprise flickered in his pale blue eyes and then suddenly he threw his head back and laughed.
“Only you would worry about that,” he said slowly.
“ Actually, any reasonable girl wearing a nice dress would .” My eyes landed on his broad chest. “ Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? ” Again .
Nikola made his way to a sink in the far corner, scrubbed his hands clean, and then returned, his gaze full of amusement.
“No sense in staining it,” he signed and mouthed at the same time.
It was a reasonable explanation. “ But even at school you go around shirtless. I know your body temperature runs hotter than most, but— ” The words I don’t want every woman seeing what’s mine were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them. “ But it’s really not appropriate .”
His expression sobered. “Blood stains are a bitch to wash off, you know.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “And I fucking suck at putting a tie on. I can kill a man in ten seconds flat, but it takes me twenty minutes to fumble with a tie.”
Surprise washed over me. “ But you hate wearing suits .”
“For that exact reason.”
“ Then wear a normal T-shirt ,” I argued. “ It’s better than going around half-naked .”
“But see, dollface… When I’m half-naked, women can’t resist me and girls run the other way.” He chuckled. “Besides, didn’t you say you hate men in T-shirts?”
It was hardly a point right now. Besides, Nikola looked great in pretty much anything.
“ Don’t fucking call me dollface ,” I signed instead, letting out an exasperated breath. “ I can teach you how to tie a tie. I help my papa all the time. ”
He stilled for a moment, then flashed me his most charming smile. “You always manage to surprise me, zayka .”
I narrowed my eyes. “ Stop calling me little rabbit .”
The nickname he’d bestowed on me somewhere along the way was anything but cute. Honestly, I wasn’t sure which one was more annoying: dollface or zayka . He called every girl dollface , but at least he reserved zayka for me.
“Never.” Nikola had always been stubborn as a mule. “You’ll always be zayka to me.”
“ Saying rabbit while drenched in blood really isn’t a good look .”
I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly feeling slightly queasy. Maybe it was the copper-scented air or just the basement in general. He cupped my face and I forced my eyelids open to find Nikola mouthing, I’ll get cleaned up upstairs and then we’ll get freaky. Let’s get out of here .
Finally!
I’d been waiting for Nikola to say those words to me for years. I wasn’t certain what had brought them on now, but I wasn’t going to question his motives.
Every cell in my body tingled with excitement, which should have been alarming, considering what I’d just witnessed.
With one final glance at the man tied to the chair, we retraced our steps back upstairs. Nikola reached around me and locked the door, and I tilted my head. “ You’re going to lock the other guy down there ?”
He shook his head. “Hound—” I blinked in confusion. “The guy downstairs… We call him Hound. He knows his way back up through the tunnels.”
I wanted to ask about the battered man but didn’t dare. Our families were cruel when the situation called for it, but they’d always managed to shield me from the worst of that cruelty.
Tonight, my eyes had been opened, and I wished they weren’t.
When I remained silent, Nikola signed, “I’m going to shower and change into something clean. Then I’m taking you home . ”
“ Where is the freaky party? ” I questioned.
He chuckled. “Just look around you.”
And I did, not the least bit surprised that this room was littered with sex toys. Nikola had always been into pushing limits, trying out new and forbidden things. Who was I to judge?
“Are you going to be okay by yourself or will you lose your shit?” Nikola asked.
“ Because you're kinky ?” He shrugged. “ I’m okay with kinky .”
His eyebrow arched. “I was referring to what you witnessed in the basement.”
Oh.
I exhaled a deep breath and squared my shoulders.
“ I don’t lose my shit, Nikola. You should know that by now. Why were you torturing that guy down there? I certainly hope it wasn’t because he owed you a few bucks .”
Nikola chuckled. “You really have no clue, do you?”
I narrowed my eyes as I signed, “ Don’t act superior. I understand our world, but it doesn’t mean I support the torture of an innocent soul. ”
His expression darkened.