Chapter 14 – Nik
“These bastards are encroaching on Bratva territory. We must act now!” Mikhail declared, his deep voice laced with disdain.
“The longer we let this problem slide, the more we look like idiots,” another Bratva elite seconded, his gaze sweeping across our faces.
“Sergei is right. I say we act now—remind those sons of bitches whose turf they’re on.”
The dimly lit room was filled with the voices of the organization’s inner circle members, arguing over the best course of action. They were divided—some thought acting now was the better call. Others were of the opinion that they try a different approach, one our enemies would never expect.
Their inability to find common ground was pretty pathetic, to be honest. I didn’t come here to waste my time arguing about how to handle a simple situation. This wasn’t the first time the Bratva was dealing with problems like this.
But for some reason, tonight, these old devils couldn’t agree on anything. I had better things to do with my time than sit here watching the organization’s brightest minds behave like idiots. Both sides had their valid points, but it was just a matter of perspective.
If they could all calm the fuck down and actually listen to one another, they’d come to a reasonable conclusion in no time. I could easily say the word, and their voices would fall silent in an instant. But I’d rather give in to the thoughts of my Dikaya than school a bunch of arrogant old men.
They knew the right thing to do; let them do it.
I sat at the head of the table, absently tapping my fingers on the table’s surface. Leaned back in my chair, I let my mind drift off into wonderland with one image in my head. Hers.
She still hadn’t told me her name yet, and I was okay with it.
Besides, I wasn’t sure her real identity would matter that much anyway.
This strange young woman had slithered her way into my stone-cold heart.
She’d occupied my thoughts to the point where I chose to think about her rather than calm my associates down.
This was a fuckin’ distraction, and in my world, distraction was as dangerous as any physical weapon. I should take control of my mind and thoughts; I really should. But the more I tried to stop myself from replaying the images of her face, the more they came flashing in my head.
Things were different between us now. She offered me her innocence, and I took it. Ever since then, something had cracked open inside me. I hadn’t been able to control my own mind or push her out of my head.
What made her so special?
I’d had tons of women before her—more experienced and more spontaneous. However, none of them had lingered on the fringes of my mind more than the second after my release.
My Dikaya was different.
Despite how much time had passed since that night—just a few days—I still hadn't gotten over her.
The scent of her perfume clung to my sheets long after she left my room.
The taste of her nectar lingered on my tongue through that fateful night.
At this point, it's safe to say that she had carved her face into my mind.
The crazy part was that I hoped this feeling was mutual. I hoped I occupied her head as much as she occupied mine. If this were a one-sided thing, then I’d feel really stupid. In fact, I already did because no woman had ever left me so distracted and mesmerized.
My Dikaya had broken the record of the first woman to spend this much time living rent-free in my head. She should be proud of herself.
And I should be ashamed of myself.
Part of me resented how much this strange woman affected me. I should be the one in control—I should be calling the shots. She was supposed to be the one craving more of what I gave her the other night, not the other way around.
The plan was to seduce her, toy with her emotions, and slowly watch her unravel before me. I hadn’t done my research on her because I thought this game would reveal all there was to know about her in due time.
I wasn’t so sure anymore. How could I when my head wasn’t in the game?
I found myself making up excuses and trying to defend her by thinking, maybe it wasn’t that deep. Maybe she was just an average girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Don’t be silly! a voice cautioned me. You know there’s something off about her. You should be more focused on finding out what she’s hiding, not getting entertained by her.
I tried to shove the voice to the back of my head, but it was resilient.
Remember the way she fought fiercely when you first saw her? Did those moves seem average to you? Did she not fight like a trained soldier?
My brows knitted together.
Then all of a sudden, after a few days at the mansion, she just magically lets her guard down and starts to act all nice and calm. You don’t find that suspicious?
I rubbed my eyes, refusing to ruin the image of her in my head.
Think about it; why did she leave the table the last time you took her to that event?
She said she went to powder her face in the restroom.
And you believed her? Come on.
There was nothing suspicious about her using the restroom. Besides, she had no way of contacting anyone, and she didn’t waste any time getting back to the table.
You’re not thinking, Nik, the voice insisted. You were at an event, a hall filled with people—how sure are you that she didn’t spot someone she knew and then pretended to use the restroom so she’d speak with them?
I thought about that for a moment while stroking my jaw with my usual blank expression. If even she did speak to someone, no one dared to make a move at the event. She still returned home with me at the end of the day.
My blunt voice of reason might be right, and I’d get to the bottom of this in due time. But for now, I’d just keep an eye on her and observe some more.
Whatever you wanna do, do it fast because you’re running out of time.
I finally was able to push the voice to the back of my mind. And although I knew I should be more careful, I couldn’t help finding comfort in the thoughts of this wild woman, strange and mysterious.
My lips twitched slightly at the sight of her charming smile and the way she laughed so beautifully. I caught myself fixating on small, silly details; the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when nervous, the defiance in her eyes when angry—how her silence could feel louder than shouting.
Each thought cut through my concentration, forcing me to lock my jaw in an attempt to mask my distraction.
“…isn’t that right, Nikolai?” Vladimir’s voice snapped me back to the present.
It wasn’t until after he spoke that I realized they’d stopped arguing and had already come to a conclusion. I didn’t catch anything they said, and now all eyes were on me, as though the question was a test.
I blinked once, shifting my gaze across the table with a flat expression on my face. The room had fallen silent, and these mean-faced men were staring with expectation.
“Nikolai,” Vlad called out, his deep voice steady. “You’ve been distracted during the meeting. Care to explain why?”
I looked him dead in the eyes and said a blunt, “No.”
His expression darkened, his brows furrowing into deep creases.
“I suppose the rumors are true then,” Sergei chipped in, his gaze pinned on me. “The girl from the auction has been keeping you busy.”
A soft murmur rose from amongst the others, and glances were exchanged.
“I guess everyone has an Achilles’ heel after all,” he added with a mocking smirk on his lips.
The room leaned toward laughter, but no one dared make a sound. He thought he had embarrassed me—he had no idea.
“Careful, Sergei,” I began, reclining into my chair. “I know your Achilles’ heel wears actual heels and carries a frying pan.” I let the words sink in for a moment so he’d get where I was going with this.
He swallowed hard, shifting in his chair.
“I know how she…‘keeps you in line,’ and her methods are quite efficient too.” I edged closer, placing both hands on the table. “Imagine what she’d do to you if she found out what happened six months ago while you were away on a ‘business trip.’”
Gradually, that ugly smirk on his lips vanished until all that was left was fear and embarrassment.
The others had no clue what I was talking about, but that son of a bitch did. And he’d do anything to hide his dirty little secret.
Sergei’s wife was an abuser who never missed a chance to beat him up. He once tried to fight back but ended up in the hospital. He claimed he was jumped by a gang of thugs from a rival gang.
Of course, that was the best lie he could come up with—the weak bastard couldn’t let people know his wife was the one who’d battered his face with punches.
He was so reckless that, despite fearing her, he still had the guts to sleep with her sister six months ago. He lied to her, saying he was going on a business trip, when in reality, the plan was to hook up with her at her in-laws’ place.
If she ever found out that he betrayed her in such a horrible way, she’d put a bullet in his fuckin’ head.
He must be wondering how I knew all of this, and at the same time, he pleaded with his eyes, begging me to spill his secret.
“What’s that saying?” I asked, a satisfied smirk on my lips. “A man who can’t control his own house shouldn’t speak of others’ affairs.”
His forehead glistened with sweat, his eyes blinking rapidly in a bid to appeal to my conscience.
I leaned back in my chair, eyes cold as ice. “Mock me again, and I’ll make you the next talk of the town.”
Silence swallowed the whole table.
“Anyone else wanna stick their noses in my business?” I asked, eyes shifting across their faces.
No one said a single word.
“Good.” I adjusted in my chair, grabbed my glass of vodka, and drained it down my throat in a single shot. “Now, what’s the conclusion?”
They shot hidden glances amongst them, and after a moment of hesitation, they filled me in on their plan to handle the trespassers.
Everyone at the table hated my display of power and authority, but none of them could question me. They knew that I’d just threatened Sergei with something personal—something only he was supposed to know.
They thought it wise not to get on my bad side in case I knew something personal about them—some dirty secrets they were willing to die with. They were right to think so because I knew everything about each and every one of them seated at this table.
I had them all in the palm of my hands and could easily crush them should they cross the line. That’s what power was all about—having something to use against those around you. It didn’t only command respect; it proved how high up the ladder I was above them.
And they knew never to mess with me.