23. Vlad
CHAPTER 23
VLAD
The city lights dance in the distance, flickering promises across an unassuming night sky, as Nico guides the Audi down the darkened highway. Sitting in the passenger seat, I watch those distant embers smolder and spark. But my mind conjures a different flame.
Salvatore Morelli. His machinations are like a wildfire, razing stability to ash and leaving only chaos in his wake. The Morelli empire teeters on a knife's edge, and my father's ghost stirs in the shadows of my mind, whispering deadly temptations.
This is your chance, Vladimir.
Yuri's voice slithers through my thoughts, cold and calculating.
The Italians are vulnerable. Strike now, and their empire will crumble like a house of cards.
I clench my jaw, battling the insidious pull of his words. The same poison once flowed through my own veins, a thirst for power and control that's part of Solovey blood. But now, a different desire pulses beneath my skin.
Nico.
I turn my head slightly and look at him as if needing to see his face to shake off the hold Yuri still has on me. Nico tightly holds onto the steering wheel. The tension radiates off him in waves, a silent storm brewing behind those blue eyes. My heart twists, caught between the man I want to be and the monster I was born to become.
To seize power or protect what matters most? The age-old question continues to purr in my ear in my father's terrifying voice, voice I'm trying so hard to shake off.
The confines of the Audi cocoon us in a misleading bubble of intimacy where the engine's steady hum is a lullaby and where shadows leaping across Nico's face, cast by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, turn his skin into a magical canvas. In this space, suspended between destinations, the rest of the world fades away, leaving only the electric crackle.
Is there no chance for us at all in this life?
Before I know it, Nico spins the wheel and steers us off the main road, the tires crunching against gravel as he pulls over to the curb. The abrupt stillness is jarring. He shifts in his seat to face me, his expression an inscrutable mix of worry and determination.
"Vlad," he begins, "you don't need to go any further with this. My family's problems are not yours to bear."
I search his face, my gaze tracing the lines of concern etched into his brow. "Nico, I–"
"No, listen to me," he interrupts, his hand finding mine in the darkness. "You're already a target. Every step you take with us puts you in more danger from my family. Salvatore is unpredictable. If he's willing to undermine Tony's word, he won't blink when it comes to an outside threat. I can't ask you to risk your life for this."
It's the truth I cannot deny. But there's a deeper truth, one that simmers in the very marrow of my being.
"You didn't ask," I reply. "I chose this path. I offered help. My decision. Not yours. You can't talk me out of it now."
Silence stretches between us, a fragile bridge made up of our fears. Nico's hand tightens around mine, his touch searing through the chill that has settled in my body. In that moment, I realize the depth of my own statement.
I have chosen him, not the path, time and time again. Over power, over the drone of an old ghost who would see me drown in blood.
" Caro ," Nico whispers, his gaze flicking away before returning to mine. "If something happened to you, I–"
"Shh," I breathe, brushing my fingertips against his lips. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm too stubborn for that."
A sad smile quivers on his lips, creasing the corners of his mouth. "I know." He sighs. "And that's the problem."
"How about this?" I supply. "In exchange for my assistance with your family matters, if I ever need your help, you'll return the favor. Sound good, Romeo?"
Nico stares at me with those intense eyes the color of a winter lake. "Alright," he whispers eventually.
Then he leans in, his nose brushing mine, his lips finding my lips.
Mouths finally meet, tentative at first, a question and an answer all at once. My hands reach up to grab at his shirt and I groan, my grip tightening on the fabric as I pull him closer. He responds in kind, his fingers digging into my hair as the intensity of the kiss deepens.
We are lost in each other, the city and the desert around us vanishing into nothing. Our tongues dance together, desperately seeking out every inch of the other. He tastes like sweet promises and I find myself craving more. So much more.
As we break for air with our breaths mingling in the confined space of the car, I know that I would walk through the fires of hell and back for this man. For this feeling.
This kiss right here and now is different, more than a fleeting moment of something that has an expiration date. It's a seal, a sacred bond that transcends the boundaries of our warring worlds.
It's the taste of the forbidden fruit of hope, a dangerous elixir that threatens to unravel the careful tapestry of my ambitions. And as his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me back to him, I surrender to this insanity fully.
When the time comes, ending things between us will be like tearing out a piece of my own soul, leaving a gaping wound that will never truly heal. It will be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do.
For his sake, not mine , I repeat in my head. For his sake, not mine.