7. Skye
SKYE
I t had been a whole week since the visit to Revelation, and Nikola was back to ignoring me. It infuriated me that he could be so smart yet blind as a fucking bat.
Didn’t he see that we were perfect together?
He’d always been my knight, even when he so annoyingly tugged on my hair as children.
My mind darted back to one of the visits I’d had with the Nikolaevs in my early teens.
My parents were celebrating their hard-earned wedding anniversary, and it was my weekend with Sasha and Branka.
As per usual, when they were in New Orleans, we often stayed at the Nikolaev compound, owned by Nikola’s parents, Vasili and Isabella Nikolaev.
I stared at the screen of the laptop, all my Robux gaming points in the Roblox game were completely gone.
The Nikolaev library was empty, its books the only thing keeping me company.
Usually, the Nikolaev family liked to hang out here because there was a bar in the corner of it.
However, they were all busy today, and my cousin was in school, which was the reason I was alone.
Thanks to an Italian holiday, I had a long weekend and they didn’t.
Although, school might have been a better alternative to this scenario.
My eyes burned, fighting tears that threatened to spill. It seemed to be a thirteen-year-old curse: amplified emotions. Mama said it would pass, but at this moment, I struggled to see how.
Nikola’s hands grabbed my face and turned me away from my favorite online game. “What’s the matter?”
And tears spilled.
There was no holding them back. I cried, hiccupped, and made a mess of my face and Nikola’s T-shirt.
“Skye, what the fuck happened?” he asked again, his lips barely readable through my rain of tears.
“ My Robux ,” was all I could sign.
His brows scrunched as he glanced at the screen and then back at me. “Did you use them all up?”
I started crying even harder and Nikola hugged me tighter, his hand roaming my back in slow, clumsy movements. But I found comfort in it nonetheless.
When my tears finally eased, he put space between us and used the hem of his shirt to wipe my wet face.
“Now tell me, what happened with your Robux?” he demanded in that certain way that reminded me of Sasha. Or maybe it was of his papa. They were both formidable, demanding men.
My bottom lip quivered as I signed, “ My Roblox account was hacked, and all my Robux points are now gone .”
His expression darkened, and he shifted me over, taking the laptop.
I had no idea what he was doing as I watched his hands, fresh tattoos on them, move across the keyboard.
At seventeen, Nikola could no longer wait to ink his body, much to his mother’s dismay.
But every Nikolaev man had tattoos, so it was certainly not a surprise.
“ What are you doing ?” I asked, noting he was scanning various group chats.
He didn’t answer, but in half an hour, he finally smiled that shark grin that usually scared everyone. He met my gaze and patted my cheek affectionately.
“I got him, zayka.” He closed the laptop, placed it on the coffee table in front of us, and stood up. “Don’t go into the game. I’ll be back soon.”
It took Nikola exactly six hours and thirty-five minutes to get to the hacker who stole my Robux.
It was some boy I shared a class with. Nikola roughed him up a bit, then got all of my Robux back for me.
That time when my parents came to pick me up and take me back to Italy, I hugged Nikola—my hero—tighter than ever.
“What’s that about?” Papa demanded.
Nikola waved his hand dismissively. “Roblox.”
Papa glared at Sasha. “That’s the most useless game. Why did you get her hooked on it?”
“Because she’s a kid and she asked me to. Duh!” Sasha loved taunting Papa. “That's the reason I’m her favorite. We eat popcorn while I watch a movie and she plays Roblox.”
“She prefers Italian movies with me,” Papa protested.
“I hate to tell you, but Skye hates watching movies,” Nikola corrected them both, and I flashed them all a sheepish smile.
I recognized that it was a rarity to have such a family, but I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. I still remembered the loneliness before Sasha and Branka adopted me into their family.
Of course, in hindsight, it was a silly thing to cry about, but Nikola’s actions made me trust him even more. Despite his sometimes crazy behavior and determination to push me away, I was always safe with him.
Sasha and Branka’s short adoption period when I was five connected me to the Nikolaev family in an unconventional way, and somehow it made sense that we would forever have this bond and attraction. It was the best of both worlds.
Right?
So why was he resisting this attraction that clearly we both felt? He wanted me, deep down I felt it, and nobody could convince me otherwise.
It was only six in the afternoon when I decided to corner Nikola. Like a scorned woman, I stomped out of my dorm building and made my way through various parking lots until I reached his dorm.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
I banged on the door with force, hoping Nikola would hear my frustration. Nothing happened. So I did it again. Boom. Boom. Boom. Still nothing.
Certain that he was in there, I pushed on the door handle, swung the door open, and entered the suite, only to find it empty.
Maybe he’s in his room , I thought to myself.
I padded across the empty suite. The truth was it almost looked abandoned. It was too neat, like it was unused. I guess it made sense since most of its tenants weren’t even full-time students.
Nikola only had to turn in his thesis and he was done.
His father already handed him some of the reins of the Nikolaev criminal empire.
Matteo Vitale married Arianna, and then there was Gabriel Santos.
The truth was that he shouldn’t be here either.
His official excuse: he assisted with some class lectures.
I suspected he stayed for Amara.
I entered Nikola’s room, the whiff of that familiar cologne permeated the air, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was only a mess of both packed and empty boxes sitting around the bedroom. I weaved my way through the boxes, reaching the closet, and peered inside.
What the fuck?
My eyes zeroed in on a pair of handcuffs hanging among the leather jackets, Bond-like suits, and jeans. Ignoring them all, I reached for the handcuffs and traced them with my fingers while I wondered why Nikola had them.
Duh, he’s into kinky shit , my mind mocked.
Would I trust him enough to let him handcuff me? There was no doubt that I trusted him, but the thought of being handcuffed made my chest tighten with anxiety. If that alone gave me such a reaction, it was clear I wouldn’t be able to handle anything more.
Just as that revelation sunk in, I felt a click.
The handcuff snapped shut around my left wrist with a cold, unforgiving finality, and a surge of panic clawed its way up my throat.
My breath hitched, quick and shallow, as if the air itself had thickened, choking me.
I yanked on the cuff desperately, but the sharp bite of metal only tightened against my skin, sending a spike of pain shooting up my arm.
No, no, no.
A shudder wracked my body and fear wrapped around my chest like a constricting vise, pressing until my ribs ached. Memories I’d buried deep erupted through the fragile wall I’d built around them, spilling into the present with a vicious force. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing them away.
I have a family now. I have a family now. The words pulsed through my mind like a lifeline, repeating over and over, desperate and raw, as those long-buried memories clawed their way to the surface. I could feel them unraveling the fragile threads I’d used to bind them, threatening to break free.
I gasped for air, but it was like inhaling water—thick, suffocating, and merciless.
Panic coiled tighter, pulling me under, and just when it felt like I might drown, strong hands gripped my shoulders.
They shook me—firm and unyielding—jolting me from the spiraling void.
My eyes snapped open and there was Nikola, his face hovering just inches from mine, his worried gaze cutting through the haze like a beacon.
“Nik—” My mouth moved, but my clattering teeth made it impossible to call out his name. The very same name I practiced saying when alone.
He yanked the handcuff off my wrist and I fell into his broad chest, shaking like a leaf. His arms enveloped me, pulling me close, and I sank into the solid warmth of his chest. Those big, gentle hands traced soothing circles along my back, grounding me with each stroke.
His palm moved up and down, and my breaths mimicked his slow movements. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
It wasn’t until my heartbeat and state of mind were back to normal that I shifted back and snapped, “ Why the fuck do you have handcuffs? ”
Taken aback, it took him a minute to formulate a response.
“I thought you could handle kinky stuff, zayka ?” I hit his bicep hard, glaring, and he feigned a wince. “Now, now, don’t get all violent on me.”
“ Not funny .”
His expression sombered suddenly. “You’re right, it isn’t. What was that about?”
It was my turn to feign. “ Not sure what you mean. ”
He tilted his head.
“Don’t play coy with me, Skye. That was a full-blown panic attack.” A shudder rolled down my spine, and I inhaled a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “Did someone hurt you?” I shook my head and his eyes narrowed on me. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I sighed, rubbing my forehead before answering him with shaky fingers. “ Honestly, I completely forgot about it until those stupid handcuffs. ”
“Forgot what?”
“ A memory. ”
“Explain!”
Nikola could be so demanding.
“ It was before Sasha and Branka adopted me .” I paused, but he didn’t interrupt, so I just continued. “ This woman… While I was in foster care, she would handcuff me to a radiator so I would stay put. I completely forgot about it. ”
I rubbed my wrists, realizing it was impossible to forget something like that, but I’d subconsciously buried it. I didn’t want to dwell on the bad, but rather focus on all the good things that had happened to me.
“What was her name?” Nikola’s cold expression should have sent me running, but instead all I could find in my heart was gratitude. That was who this man was. Overprotective. Overbearing. Over-controlling. Everything he did was over the top.
Just like Papa. Just like Sasha.
It was why I found comfort in Nikola. He represented safety, which I’d only ever found in the two most important men in my life. They were both father figures in my eyes and I’d never give them up.
“Skye, I’m waiting for that name.”
I shrugged.
“ I have no idea, Nikola. Honestly, I willed myself to forget. I don’t even remember what she looked like. I just remember that stupid radiator, its heat, and the handcuffs. ”
He cupped my face, his eyes boring into me.
“I will find her.”
I shook my head. “It’s not worth it. Honestly, she’s probably dead. Someone said that my caretakers died, so she must have been one of them.”
His expression clearly told me he didn’t believe it.