16. Nikolai
16
Nikolai
I stand by the front window of the cabin, my hand gripping the frame as I watch Cassio and Luca guide Sabina toward the waiting snowmobiles. She glances back once, her gaze searching for me, and the world seems to still. The storm has quieted, but the cold bites deeper than ever, settling in my chest like ice.
She doesn’t know how hard this is. How much it’s taking to let her go. To watch her walk away. My chest feels hollow, but my pulse is steady, too steady, like my body hasn’t yet caught up to the war raging inside me. Every instinct screams to stop them, to pull her back, to keep her here with me where I can protect her.
But I can’t. Not this time.
Sabina is safer with them—her family, her blood. I have to believe that. Cassio and Luca are capable, loyal, and ruthless when it comes to protecting their own. And once she’s back in Vegas, Leo will summon an army if he must. She’s one of theirs, in a way she’ll never be mine.
She pauses, her silhouette framed against the endless white. For a moment, it looks like she’s going to say something, but Cassio nudges her forward, and the moment slips through my fingers like smoke.
I tell myself this is the right choice. That letting her go with them and staying behind is the only way to keep her safe. Mikhail is already circling, already sniffing for any weakness he can exploit. If he sees her with me—if he knows what she means to me—she’ll become more of a target. And I can’t allow that.
But the truth cuts deeper. It’s not just about Mikhail. It’s about me. I’ve built my life on control, on being untouchable, unshakable, a man who answers to no one and nothing. But Sabina? She makes me weak.
She makes me want things I’ve never let myself want—things I don’t deserve. A future. A life beyond this endless cycle of blood and betrayal. Every time I look at her, I see the impossible, and it terrifies me.
I turn away from the window, every corner of the cabin carrying a memory, a whisper of the moments we spent her together. The warmth of the fire does nothing to chase away the chill settling in my bones. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes as her face burns behind my lids.
The way she looked at me—defiant and vulnerable all at once. The way her voice broke when she called my name. She doesn’t know what she does to me, how she’s unraveling everything I thought I knew about myself.
Love makes you weak, Mikhail’s voice echoes in my mind, a twisted mantra I’ve carried since childhood. He drilled it into me with every lesson, every punishment, every death. And maybe he’s right. Because this feels like weakness. Like I’ve carved out a piece of my soul and sent it away with her, knowing I might never get it back.
Do I trust Cassio? Luca? Leo?
I can trust no one.
But in this instance, I must. Because keeping her with me, putting her in Mikhail’s sights is a sure way to get her killed.
Trusting her family doesn’t silence the fear that gnaws at me. Fear that I’ve made a mistake. That the next time I see her, it will be too late. That I’ll lose her the way I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever dared to care about.
She’s safer with them. I have to believe that. Because if I don’t, I’ll lose what little control I have left, and I can’t afford that. Not now. Not when Mikhail is circling, not when everything is at stake.
A log pops in the wood stove, the firelight flickering against the walls. I tell myself this is temporary. That I’ll see her again when this is over, when Mikhail is dead, and the world is safer for her. For us.
But deep down, I know the truth. The world is never safe. Not for people like me. And certainly not for people like her.
And as I sink into the chair by the fire, staring at the flames, I feel it—the hollow ache of her absence, the unbearable weight of what I’ve just done.
I should feel some kind of relief, knowing she’s protected, that she’s going to be beyond my father’s reach. Instead, I feel a gnawing ache, like I’ve failed her. Failed myself.
And I don’t fucking fail.