45. Vlad
CHAPTER 45
VLAD
In my office above the club, I stare at my phone, the screen black and silent. No messages from Nico. And there shouldn't be. No matter how much I long for them.
My fingers hover, trembling slightly, caught in the space between desire and restraint.
It's been two weeks since the botched transfer of the Brazilians coke to Tony's men. Two weeks since I orchestrated the betrayal, since I drove a knife into Nico's heart and twisted it.
Outside these walls, the club rages with the muffled bass from the dance floor below, but here, there's only stillness. I close my eyes, and Nico's face swims before me. Those blue eyes are filled with shock, with pain, with accusation.
My fist clenches around the phone.
"It was for the best," I whisper to the shadows. "He's safer this way."
Alive.
But the words taste like dogshit on my tongue. The truth is, I'm a coward, hiding behind noble intentions. I allowed Chiara's warning shake me.
People, whoever they are, ordered to carry out Tony's order after he's gone, aren't a threat to me. I could find them, could cut out their tongues and then chop off their limbs and spread them all over the Nevada desert.
But the risk is too great.
It's not my life but Nico's life.
And I can't let that happen.
So I had to hurt him, had to make him believe I double-crossed him, used him. I had to shatter the fragile trust we'd built, leave him with nothing but bitter shards.
It's better this way , I tell myself for the hundredth time. He'll hurt at first. He'll hate me too. But some time down the road, he'll move on. Build a life. And someday, the ache in my chest where he used to be will fade too.
Fuck. Who am I kidding?
I squeeze me eyes shut.
He was the one for me, so no, I don't want it to go away. I want it to torture me like a motherfucker for the rest of my days. A reminder that, I once loved someone. A reminder that I'm a human. It's Yuri who made me this way—turned me into a machine.
I open my eyes, stare down at the phone again. I could call him, breathe into the phone like a creeper just to hear his voice. And then what?
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Nico.
But there's no one to hear my apology, no absolution to be found. There is only the relentless march of time, carrying me further from Nico with every beat of my broken heart.
A sharp knock at the door jolts me from my misery. I straighten, swiping a hand across my face, composing myself with the ease of long practice.
"Enter," I call, my voice steady, emotionless.
The door swings open and Ivan strides in, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. He's the only reassuring presence, solid and dependable, in a world of shifting shadows.
But there's a furrow between his brows, a tightness around his mouth that sets my nerves on edge. "Your Italian was here again," he says without preamble, disapproval threading through his words. "Looking to speak to you."
My heart leaps into my throat, pounding with a desperate hope I can't afford to feel. I force it down, schooling my features into a mask of indifference.
"He'll stop coming around eventually," I say, waving a dismissive hand. "He's already stopped calling."
The words are sharp, cutting, but beneath them, I'm terrified Ivan will hear the regret that's choking me, the longing I can't quite hide.
Ivan studies me for a second, searching my face. I meet his gaze, refusing to let him see how close I am to shattering.
Finally, he nods, a slight incline of his head. "As you say, boss."
I stand abruptly. "I think I'll go the Enclave tonight," I announce matter-of-factly.
Ivan's eyes narrow. "Vlad, no." He takes a step forward. "Those people are dangero—."
"So, you keep on saying," I snap, cutting him off. "I'll be fine."
"Vladimir."
"If I can't have Nico and can't get my hands on Shtyk, the least I can have is a shot of adrenaline."
I brush past him, my mind already racing ahead to the night's events. The danger, the rush of speed and power and control. It's a poor substitute for what I really want, for the warmth of Nico's smile or the satisfaction of killing my mother's murderer.
But it's all I have left, the only escape from the cage of my own making. And I'll take it, even if it destroys me in the end.