Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
SOFIYA
The cool water envelops me, muffling the world above as I glide beneath the pool’s surface.
When I come up for air, the gentle night breeze soothes my overheated skin. I swim to the edge, resting my forearms on the rough concrete while I catch my breath.
I’ve only been here a week, but days blur together without anything meaningful to fill them. No plans, no purpose, no way to communicate with the outside world. Sure, movies and television are options, but I can only stare at a screen for so many hours. I’ve also spent time reading, exploring, and picking up the piano again—something I haven’t touched in years, not since my mother forced lessons on me.
My fingers are rusty, but it’s something to do—a way to distract myself from my churning thoughts. I’ve spent countless hours concerned about Liza, for Daria and Alex unknowingly being watched by Nikolai’s men, but all that has gotten me nowhere. I’m no closer to a plan or finding a way to escape.
Every day that passes, my old life feels like it’s slipping away, and Nikolai is taking up more and more space in my brain. I’ve tried to keep my distance from him, which hasn’t been too hard, considering he’s barely been around lately. I thought time away would help, but it hasn’t.
I sigh and push off to float on my back, staring up at the stars. The sound of shuffling feet jolts me from my thoughts. I stand to find my guard, Emil, at the edge of the pool.
“Why didn’t you invite me for a swim?” There’s an amused look on his face, something I’m not entirely used to. I blink, caught off guard by this smiling version of him. Since I got here, he’s kept his distance—and when I do see him, he’s scrolling on his phone or smoking with the other guards. He seems pretty uninterested in the job, and I can’t blame him. There’s not much happening at the estate.
“Swim?” I let out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?”
I drop my feet beneath me, submerging myself deeper. I feel exposed. The only swimsuit Eva lent me is a tiny white bikini that leaves little to the imagination.
His lips tip up at the corners. “No reason I can’t enjoy a swim while I’m on duty.”
Without Nikolai around, Emil doesn’t seem as tense. There’s almost something boyish about him when he’s not trying to appear so tough.
I must look confused because he gives a dry laugh, his fingers combing through his short hair. “I’m messing with you. But you should tell me when you leave the house.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“Your husband’s rules.” He shrugs. “I really don’t think there’s much of a chance of anything happening to you here.”
He drags a sun chair closer to the pool and sinks into it, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one with a flick of his lighter, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. Is he supposed to hang out for a chat? Samuil or any of my other guards would never do that. But maybe this is an opportunity to learn something about this place.
“You must be bored as shit, huh?” he says, taking a slow drag.
“I’m not sure if bored is the word.” I tread water. My arms move in slow, steady strokes. “It’s more like I feel stuck. Everyone else I went to school with is moving on to the next phase of their life, and I’m here… as collateral, without any real purpose.”
My thoughts drift to Alex and Daria. I wonder if Alex has moved to London yet, auditioning for West End shows, or if Daria has found a cozy little apartment in the Hollywood Hills. Does she have a sleek mini-convertible to zip around town, landing auditions for the next big production?
I want those things for my friends—I really do. But I can’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. They’re moving forward, chasing their dreams, while once again, my ties to the Syndicate keep me stuck in place, unable to live a normal life.
Then again, I’m the reason they have a guard shadowing their every move, ready to pounce if I step out of line. Maybe envy isn’t fair.
He watches me carefully, his expression unreadable. “I get it,” he says.
I pause, feeling like I’ve said too much to my guard. Damn. I must be lonelier here than I realized.
When I glance up at him, he’s still looking at me. He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around him.
“I guess guard duty isn’t your idea of a good time?”
“It’s being stuck at the estate I’m not crazy about.” He rests an ankle on his opposite knee. “When Niko asked me to join his bratva, I was hoping to see some real action. Get my hands dirty, not sit around here. But orders are orders.”
I swim to the pool’s edge, propping my arms on the tiles. I didn’t expect Emil to be so forthcoming, but since he is, I might as well take advantage. “Wait—he brought you in? I thought most people worked their way up.”
His mouth flattens. “It was different for me. Niko and I grew up together. We lived in this rundown apartment block that smelled like piss and desperation. You learned to fight quickly, or you didn’t survive. Niko was the oldest and he fought for all of us. He wasn’t afraid of anyone—not the bigger kids, not the drunk adults, not even the gangsters hanging around outside. He stepped in, even if it meant getting knocked down himself. Especially by his mother.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
His jaw tightens, and he flicks ash into the air. “We came from a rough world, Sofiya. Different from anything you’ve probably seen. And trust me, we didn’t grow up in a palace like this.” He holds his arms out wide, gesturing around us. “Their mom—like all our parents—was barely getting by, always drinking and using drugs. She was really rough on the boys, especially when she was high. Niko shielded Sergey from the worst of it. That’s who he’s always been. Hell, he even went to jail for that fucker.”
Shock slams into me. “He did?”
“He took the blame for some bogus drug charges. Prison is brutal, and he knew Sergey wouldn’t have lasted a month. Those years behind bars, combined with the crap Sergey pulled afterward, changed Niko. It hardened him.”
Imagining Nikolai as his younger brother’s protector tugs at something inside. Liza did the same for me, shielding me from the worst of our parents’ neglect and keeping me safe when everything around us was falling apart. Maybe that’s what older siblings do.
My fingers tighten on the ledge as I try to reconcile the boy Emil described with the cold, sharp man he is today.
A little voice reminds me that he protected me too, in that chapel in Greece.
I’d nearly forgotten about that—the past was eclipsed by more recent events like the tattoo, making my finger throb.
Emil stubs out his cigarette underfoot and pushes himself to his feet. “I should go.”
“If you’re ready for more responsibility, why not tell Nikolai? He should get it, especially since you guys go way back.” I smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “I promise not to take it personally that guard duty isn’t your thing.”
The humor drains from Emil’s face. “We’ve already had that talk.” His mouth opens like he’s about to say more, but then his eyes flick past me, and his whole body goes rigid.
I don’t turn right away. A strange heat prickles at the back of my neck as the air around me feels heavier. I don’t have to look to know who’s behind me. I feel him, his presence unmistakable.
When I finally glance back, Nikolai is standing poolside, his attention locked on me. His massive frame is backlit by the glow from the house. His suit jacket is gone, shirt collar open, the tie hanging loosely around his neck. His dark hair is tousled, sleeves rolled up, tattoos snaking down his forearms. Electricity sparks down my spine.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says, his voice deceptively light.
Emil straightens. “I was checking in. Making sure Sofiya was okay.”
Nikolai’s lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. “Good to know you’re so thorough.”
Emil slides his hands into his pockets like he’s trying to appear casual. “Just doing my job.”
I glance between them, feeling like I’ve stumbled into the middle of something I don’t fully understand.
“If you need me, I’ll be inside.” Shoulders tight, Emil retreats toward the house.
When it’s only us, Nikolai’s attention locks on me. He’s tense, like a storm waiting to break, and I’m not sure why, though it might have something to do with what I’m wearing. But that’s his problem, not mine.
Just to needle him, I let myself float on my back, the cool water lapping at my skin. I can feel his eyes on me, lingering where the wet fabric clings.
“How’s the water?” His voice is low with an edge.
I glance over, keeping my expression neutral despite the shiver his tone sends through me. “Perfect,” I reply.
“In that case, I’ll join you.”
Before I can process what he means, his hands move to his collar. With a sharp tug, he yanks his shirt open, sending buttons flying as the fabric peels off him in one rough motion. My breath catches as the full expanse of his chest comes into view, all muscle and ink, like every part of him was carved by the gods.
His muscles shift as he unbuckles his belt and kicks his shoes aside. My mouth goes bone dry as he sheds his pants, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. But then those are gone, too. Holy shit. I’ve felt his cock, but I’ve never had the chance to see it. That’s a shame because it’s perfect—thick, long, and right now, it’s at half-mast and growing.
“It’s customary to wear a swimsuit when others are in the pool,” I grumble.
“Well, it’s my pool, and I prefer to swim naked.”
I quickly spin around, my cheeks burning. “I’m not looking!” I blurt, my back to him even though I already enjoyed a generous eyeful. “What’s up with you and stripping whenever you feel like it?” First was the kitchen, and now this. I’m beginning to think he likes to see me blush.
“My house, my rules. And it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” His voice drips with amusement.
“And nothing I plan on seeing again.”
He laughs, a deep, rich sound. There’s a soft splash of water as he jumps into the pool. “You can look now. I’m fully covered so as not to offend your modest sensibilities.”
A flush creeps up my neck when I turn around and see the ripples trailing his broad frame. He’s heading my way, and I instinctively back up, trying to create distance.
His eyes narrow. “Are you running from me?”
“I’m not running… I-I’m swimming.”
I just happen to be swimming in the opposite direction of him. But I don’t make it very far. The second my back brushes against the pool’s wall, he’s in front of me. His grip tightens around my waist, pulling me against him. His bare chest is slick and warm, and I’m keenly aware of how close his naked body is to mine.
He catches my wrist, holding it firmly as he stares at the tattoo. “You know you weren’t supposed to get your tattoo wet until it’s healed.”
“As you can see, I covered it with a waterproof bandage. For the record, I only did it because I don’t want an infection.”
He tilts his head. “Is this the first time you’ve gone swimming here?”
I hesitate before answering, my palms lightly pressed against his shoulders to create space between us. “Yeah,” I admit. “I was getting restless.”
His brow arches. “What do you normally do at home to keep busy?”
“I’ve been a student for the last four years. All I’ve done is dance. I had no time for anything else.”
“You can dance here, too. There’s plenty of room in my house. But what else would you like to do?” He studies me closely. “What have you dreamed of doing that you haven’t had time for?”
His question takes me by surprise. I’m not used to thinking about what I want, what I’d do if I had the freedom to choose. My entire focus has been on dance and school for so long that everything else feels like a blank slate.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly, the honesty of it making me feel exposed. “I’ve been so focused on one goal for so long that I haven’t thought about anything else but graduating and moving to Berlin.”
“Maybe it’s time to start thinking about it.”
I scoff, trying to conceal the vulnerability creeping in. “What, you’re my life coach now?”
He chuckles, his hand still secure at my waist. “No one would ever accuse me of being that.”
I roll my eyes. “And what do you suggest, oh wise one?"
He tilts his head. “Cooking. Painting. Horseback riding. Hell, even skydiving, if you want to mix it up. Either way, I’m not stopping you from dancing.”
“I don’t only want to dance. I want to perform. I want to dance onstage and live my life on my terms.”
He’s quiet for a moment. The cool water licks at my shoulders, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off Nikolai. With his wet hair slicked back and the shadows on his face more pronounced in the dark, my heart skips a beat. He’s overwhelmingly, undeniably all man.
“Why Berlin? Why did you want to go there?”
“I thought I could start fresh in a new city. It has a vibrant arts scene, and it’s far enough from Moscow that nobody would know my ties to the Syndicate. I could finally live without the weight of all this baggage.” I release a bitter laugh. “I was even going to try to convince Liza and Roman that I don’t need to take a bodyguard with me. I guess that’ll never happen.”
His thumb shifts, a subtle movement against the exposed skin of my belly. “You’ve been so focused on one thing you’ve forgotten how to just live. Maybe you should figure out what you enjoy when you’re not chasing a goal,” he says, his lips hovering inches from mine.
His words settle into a part of me I’ve tried to ignore. He might be right, and it frustrates me that he can see it so clearly. I try to push away from him, but he doesn’t let me go. “Says the man holding me captive.”
“I’m not any man. I’m your husband.”
I glare up at Nikolai, my throat tightening. “I never asked for a husband.”
His expression remains infuriatingly calm. “Yet here we are,” he replies. “Life doesn’t care about what we ask for.”
“It’s easy for you to tell me not to be so ambitious when you’re prepared to go up against the Syndicate, for what? Money?”
His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Power,” he says bluntly. “That’s all that matters. After rebuilding from nothing, I know what it takes to survive.”
I shake my head. “I’ve always wondered something. Why did you help Roman all those years ago? After you killed Sergey, you had no reason to risk your life to save me and my sister.”
He shrugs. “For fun.”
“Come on. That was fun for you?”
“I’ll admit, aligning myself with the Syndicate was part of my reason, but I was fresh out of jail, and a little shoot-me-up action didn’t sound all that bad. I also wanted to make Anatoly Petrovich pay for all the shit he’d done.”
“I thought of you for years afterward.”
The words are out before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us. Nikolai stills, his grip firm and his gaze sharp. I immediately wish I could take it back.
“Did you?” His voice is laced with an edge I can’t place.
“It’s not what you think.”
He doesn’t speak right away, but I feel the intensity of his focus like a physical weight. “Then explain it to me.”
I exhale, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. “It was the scariest thing I’ve ever been through, but I survived it because of you. And you made me feel safe,” I admit. “Even if everything you’ve done since then has been totally fucked up.”
His grin returns, wicked and self-assured. “And after?” he prompts. “You fantasized about me, didn’t you?”
Flustered, I splash water at him. “I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t deny it, either.”
I groan, trying to twist away, but he holds me in place. “Fine! But it wasn’t by choice… it just happened sometimes.”
Like when I touched myself.
How could I have admitted all this to Nikolai? I didn’t even have a drink tonight, but it feels like my lips are extra loose. It must have something to do with being relaxed in the water.
“I’m flattered, moya sladost.” His fingertips skim along my waist again, dipping beneath the edge of my bikini, sending a shiver through me. “You’ve got my attention. Now, what are you going to do with it?”
I inhale sharply, trying to ignore the flutter low in my stomach. “I didn’t ask for your attention.”
“No? Then what’s this?” His finger slides under the side strap of the bikini bottom and, with a flick, snaps it against my skin.
Need pulses between my legs like a fever, and I release a little moan that I try to disguise with a cough. “It’s your girlfriend’s bikini. I had no other options.”
He shakes his head, his gaze heavy on me. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret…” He leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Eva’s not my girlfriend.”
I wave a hand in front of me. “Fuck buddy, whatever. Same thing.”
He exhales with a short laugh as if I’m trying to be funny. “I didn’t like Emil’s eyes on you in this excuse for a swimsuit.”
To make his point, he slips his finger beneath the thin band of my bottoms again, his palm brushing along the curve of my ass. A sharp hiss escapes me, and I struggle to hold on to my thoughts, but his touch makes it impossible.
“You’re the one who assigned him to watch me,” I hiss, clinging to whatever control I can muster. “Don’t get angry when he’s doing his job.”
His rough palm curls over my hip, firm and possessive. If steam could rise from the pool, it would. My blood feels like it’s on fire, my pulse hammering in my ears as he leans in close. His breath ghosts over my skin as he murmurs, “It didn’t look like he was doing his job to me. Seemed like he was enjoying the view.”
“Would you listen to yourself? You sound like a caveman.”
“I’m possessive of you. Is that so wrong?”
I should say yes, or better yet, I should push him away. While I debate with myself, his fingers trace over my hip, lingering along the edge of my bikini bottoms, the deliberate caress leaving my mind blank.
“You don’t own me,” I whisper, but the words lack the conviction I want them to have.
He leans in, his lips close to my ear. “No, I don’t own you, but I want you.” His hand skims up my side.
Need coils low in my belly. I know I have to stop this before I lose myself. Before I let myself fall under his spell again. Every time I do, it ends with me feeling weak and ashamed.
I step back, breaking free from his hold, the water rippling around us as I put space between us. “I’m going to bed,” I say, brushing past him.
“Good night, Sofiya,” he calls after me, but I don’t bother looking back. “Make sure to clean the tattoo and put some cream on it. I guess you forgot when I warned you not to get it wet?”
As I climb out of the water, I grab a towel and wrap it tightly around myself, flipping both middle fingers behind my back. I don’t stop until I’m in my room.