21. Vlad
CHAPTER 21
VLAD
I sit alone in my dark living room, the half-empty vodka bottle gleaming on the table beside me. I'm more of a whiskey guy, but today feels different. Today I'm indulging myself in a drink that tears my mind apart with all the memories. Memories from my time back in Russia, when Yuri was still alive and well and scheming.
The terrace doors yawn open, inviting the night wind to dance across my skin. My phone feels heavy in my hand after ending the call with Nico. The alcohol numbs my senses, but regret pricks through the haze. Why did I invite him here, to my sanctuary? A foolish decision, born of desperation and longing for something I can never have.
A reminder that today is my mother's birthday twists through my mind like storm clouds. Guilt and sorrow slam into me. I should have seen the truth sooner. I should've pieced it together earlier, stitched the whispered words and secretive looks into reality before it was too late.
But I was blind, lost in the illusion of a family that never truly existed. A coward, too afraid to confront the demons that lurked within my own home.
Motherfucker didn't leave any loose ends.
No one questioned it.
Stroke at such a young age.
Now, as the vodka burns its way into my stomach and clouds my judgment, the fury rises like an angry wave. It crashes against the shores of my soul, eroding what little peace I have left. Regret is a constant companion, muttering in my ear of all the ways I failed her. Mama .
Vengeance is the only balm that soothes the ache. I will find Shtyk and make him pay for his sins. I will watch the life drain from his eyes, just as he watched my mother take her final breath.
The anxiety pushes me to my feet and I stumble around the table, the room spinning as I sway like a ship lost at sea. The vodka has taken hold of my limbs, made them heavy and uncooperative. I grasp my phone, the screen blurring before my eyes as I clumsily navigate to Nico's contact. My thumb hovers over the call button, a moment of clarity piercing through the haze.
I want to call him, to tell him not to come.
I shouldn't have invited him here in the first place, to my home. But it's too late. He has the address and the instructions on how to get past the front gate and the security have been notified too. This house I've built to shield myself from the outside world is the only sure thing I have. The realization sends a jolt of panic through my veins, my heart pounding in a frantic rhythm.
What if he sees through the cracks in my armor? What if he discovers the broken man beneath the polished veneer? The thought is terrifying, a vulnerability I can't afford in front of someone like him. In front of a potential enemy.
The sound of a car pulling up to the front entrance topples my reverie. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I hear the engine cut off. There is a slam of the door, then footsteps approach.
I close my eyes, readying myself for the inevitable. I can't hide forever, no matter how much I wish to. I brought this upon myself.
I make my way to the door, my steps unsteady as I brace myself against the furniture. With a deep breath, I turn the handle and swing it open.
And there he stands, a vision in black. His Henley clings to his perfect frame, his jeans hugging his thighs just right. His dark hair is tousled by the rare breeze.
But it's his eyes that capture me, those transfixing blue eyes that see straight into my soul. They are calm and steady like a lighthouse guiding me through the storm of my emotions.
"You asked to see me," he says, his voice low and soothing. "Here I am."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and step aside, allowing him to enter my haven. The click of the door closing behind him is like the sealing of a fate I cannot escape.
Nico's gaze roams over my face, probably noting the shadows beneath my eyes and the stubble lining my jaw. "You look like hell, Hot Shot," he murmurs. There's concern etched into the lines of his brow as he takes a few more steps, moving further into the house before turning to face me.
A harsh laugh escapes my lips, the sound grating and foreign to my own ears. "I feel like it too," I admit, the words slurring together, as I get closer to him.
He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my arm in a gesture of comfort. The touch is electric with familiar shivers wrapping around my spine. I want to lean into it, to lose myself in the warmth of his presence.
But I can't. Not now, not like this. I pull away, staggering back a step as I fight to maintain my balance. "You shouldn't have come," I rasp. "I'm not... I can't..."
Nico's expression softens some more. "You don't have to do this alone, Vlad. Let me help you."
The offer is tempting, a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. But the darkness within me is too strong, too consuming. I fear that if I let him in, he'll be swallowed whole.
"No one can help me," I whisper. "I'm beyond saving."
Nico steps closer, erasing the space between us once more, his presence filling the room with serenity that I desperately crave. "You're wrong," he says, his tone firm but gentle. "You're not beyond anything. You're just lost, and I'm here to guide you back."
"Aren't you lost too, Romeo?" I whisper at him, swaying on my feet. The room tilts dangerously. Nico's arms are there to catch me, strong and steady as they wrap around my waist.
"I've got you," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "I've always got you."
And for a moment, I allow myself to believe it. To believe that maybe, just maybe, there is still a chance for redemption.
Even if it's a chance I don't deserve.
"I want to get some fresh air," I tell him. "Do you mind?"
"Sure." He guides me onto the terrace.
"Why are you here, Nico?" I ask as I grip the railing for support. "Why do you keep coming back?"
Nico's hand rests on the small of my back, a gentle reminder of his presence. "Then why do you keep asking to see me?"
"Ah, answering a question with a question. Smart." I will my lips to smile a little, but I don't know if they listen to me. It could be a mean scowl I'm offering him right now.
Still, he doesn't budge. "Technique old as time, right?"
"You know what else is old as time?"
"Enlighten me?"
"Evil."
There is a bit of silence and I wait. I wait for him to tell me something I could latch on to, I could use as an excuse that we can't be doing this anymore.
Instead, he murmurs, "If you think that's what you are, that's what you're becoming, let me tell you a secret—I'm becoming it too."
I can't formulate my next thought. My mind goes blank.
"If you want," he continues. "We can do this together. Be evil. Because there's nothing else left for us in this life. We can't escape it. But I see you, Vlad. I see the man beneath the mask, the one who yearns for something different. Same way I do."
I let out an exhale, the sound harsh in the stillness of the night. "And what is it that I yearn for? Don't tell me those are redemption or forgiveness. Those are luxuries I can't afford. We can't afford. You know it."
"No," Nico says softly, his gaze piercing through the haze of my intoxication. "You yearn for connection, for understanding. For someone to see the scars you hide and love you anyway."
His words crash something deep within me, and I feel the walls I've so carefully constructed crumble. "And you think you can be that someone?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nico's fingers brush against my cheek, a featherlight touch. A spark in the darkness. "I know I can," he says, his conviction unwavering. "If you let me."
The desire to surrender, to allow him in, is overwhelming. But the fear is there too, the fear of letting someone see the darkest parts of me and recoiling in disgust.
"I don't know how," I admit. "I've been alone for so long, Nico. I don't know if I remember how to let someone in. I'm scared." The drunken confession is torn from my throat. "I'm scared of what will happen to you if I let you in."
"You think I'm well-versed in this? I'm pretty scared too."
Alcohol clouds my consciousness and I sway pulled by the gravity in various directions.
Nico's arms catch me once more. "I think it's best you lie down, Hot Shot."
"One of your brightest ideas," I slur into the crook of his neck as he steers us back inside.
"Where's your bedroom, Vlad?"
I gesture vaguely toward the stairs. "Up... second door on the left."
He leads me slowly up the staircase, each step a monumental effort as my legs threaten to give way beneath me. The hallway seems like the longest stretch of space I've ever seen. Finally, we stumble into the bedroom together, Nico's strong arms the only thing keeping me upright.
The room is spinning and bathed in shadows, the faint glow of the outside lights filtering through the curtains. Nico helps me to the bed, easing me down onto the mattress with a tenderness that makes me question my own doubts of him.
I feel the whisper of his touch as he removes my shoes, his hands gentle but sure. The mattress dips as he sits beside me, his fingers brushing the strand of hair from my forehead.
"You should get some rest now," he murmurs. "You've had a bit too much to drink."
I want to protest and tell him that something absurd about my blood being half-vodka, but my mouth won't listen to me. Instead, I find myself reaching for him, my hand groping blindly in the semi-darkness until I find his.
"I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
He squeezes my hand, his thumb stroking over my knuckles. "You're not alone, Vlad. I'm here."
The certainty in his voice is the best medicine for my battered soul. I feel the weight of his body as he stretches out beside me, his arms drawing me close until our bodies are one.
The steady thrum of his pulse fills my ears, a comforting rhythm that lulls me toward sleep. But even as I drift off, the fear still lingers, a whisper in the back of my mind.
"It's a pity this has to end, Romeo."
Nico's arms tighten around me, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "Shh," he soothes. "Don't think about that now. Just sleep, Vlad. Just sleep."
And so I do, surrendering to the pull of unconsciousness. The warmth of Nico's embrace chases me down into the depths of slumber where our cruel reality doesn't exist.