Chapter 26 – Nik
I should hate her.
She lied to me for months—pretended to be a helpless girl and sneaked her way into my heart, all while working for the Bureau. I couldn’t understand how someone could be such a good actor, good enough to fool me.
I let my guard down around her, refused to do my homework on her because I thought I had the upper hand in this game. I was wrong. I never should’ve underestimated her—never should’ve overestimated myself.
I lay on a small bed in my prison cell, arms under my head as I stared at the ceiling. My thoughts kept drifting back to her every now and then, distracting me from the real issue: how to get the hell out of here.
Each time I tried to think of anything else, her face would flash in my head, a constant reminder of her betrayal. As crazy as all of this was, a part of me was impressed by the fact that she actually pulled off a stunt like this.
I wasn’t the type to be so easily manipulated, but she fooled me without even trying at all. I thought that I was in control when I bought her during that auction. However, it turned out that I was the target all along.
She let me think that I was in control—let me bask in the idea that I was ten steps ahead when, in fact, I was ten steps behind.
Everything she did since the day she arrived at the mansion was carefully orchestrated.
She owned the game from the very beginning but pretended to be nothing more than a pawn.
Her performance was flawless, and she honestly deserved an Oscar for that. It took the best of the best to take down someone like me; she just proved to be that best of the best. Her genius was off the charts, and it revealed how dumb I was compared to her.
I saw the signs but chose to ignore them. Why? I had no idea. The only reason she won against me was because she found a way to keep me from digging into her life.
A quick search would’ve revealed her identity. However, since she was undercover, nothing might have come up on her even if I checked. But at least that would’ve been enough to point me in the right direction.
Agent Blair Blake must have paid rapt attention during Manipulation 101 because she nailed the act.
I was torn between hating her guts and being intrigued by her skills. It took her less than two months to do what many had tried and failed at; she was a record-breaker.
This whole situation was a huge mess that could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t been so nonchalant.
Although a part of me was impressed by her, another part was still pissed—not just because she betrayed me, but because these accusations could potentially keep me away from my unborn child for a really long time.
If things didn’t go my way, I could end up behind bars while my child grew up without a father. That thought alone fueled my rage. My blood boiled, and my fingers clenched into fists on both hands.
At what point did she stop pretending? a voice whispered in my head.
Initially, I wanted to ignore it, but on second thought, I decided to entertain it.
The night I was arrested about two weeks ago, she couldn’t bear to look me in the eyes. At first, I thought it was fear, but thinking about it now, I realized that I had missed something. It wasn’t fear. It was guilt. Remorse.
She might have been on board with the plan from the beginning, but at some point, her loyalties shifted. Why else would she feel guilty after completing her mission? If she truly was proud of what she’d done, she would’ve looked me in the eyes and condemned me.
Yet, she couldn’t even lift her gaze off the ground.
She was obviously a great actress for successfully fooling me this whole time. But the guilt on her face that night was not part of the performance. It was real. Blair didn’t seem to have enjoyed the scene.
Maybe her time at the mansion changed how she saw me. I might not have known her well enough, since it was all just an act. Still, I knew for sure that she wasn’t the type to make false accusations about people.
She knew that I was innocent of these allegations. I’d told her before that my organization and I had nothing to do with human trafficking. I couldn’t take the credit for ending Kane’s life either.
Until this day, though, I still marveled at the way she hurled that steel spike like a fuckin’ javelin. That was one of the greatest throws I’d ever witnessed.
The turmoil within me was real. One minute, I was angry with her, and the next, I was intrigued by her. Most nights, before going to bed, I would reminisce on our time together, and somehow, I always found comfort in those memories.
A few times, those memories appeared as dreams where I saw myself making love to her. I had almost forgotten what her lips tasted like and how it felt to be enveloped in her warmth.
I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching my cell.
“Tarasov,” a guard called, his voice deep and raucous. “You’ve got visitors.”
I rose from the bed, my face devoid of emotion, and locked eyes with him. There were two of them, tall and huge, with blank expressions.
One of them unlocked my cell, and I stepped out quietly, dressed in my prison uniform. They cuffed my wrists, the cold steel biting into my flesh, but I didn’t flinch.
These men led me through a long, empty hallway illuminated by flickering pale lights, humming like dying bees. We reached the visitor’s room, and one of them opened the door while the other escorted me inside.
“You have five minutes,” he said.
The two guards stepped outside and closed the door behind them. My eyes caught the camera in one corner of the room, but the most important people here were my lawyer and my older brother.
“You don’t look so bad for a prisoner,” Roman said to me, a hand buried in his pocket.
“Nice to see you too, brother,” I replied, a faint smirk tugging at my lips as I took a seat at a small table.
There were two other chairs across from me—Colton and Roman occupied them.
“How’s the business going?” I asked, my eyes darting between the two of them.
“You should be more concerned about your situation,” Colton said to me, his voice low and even.
“It’s a false allegation against me—we all know that,” I answered.
“We do,” said Roman. “But the rest of the world doesn’t.”
“The case is not looking good, Nik,” Colton added, flipping a file open in front of me. “They’ve tied your name to Richard Kane’s trafficking operations—”
“Like I said, false accusations,” I cut him off.
“Will you just listen?” Roman blurted out, displeased by my interruption.
Colton continued, “Whether or not you’re involved in such activities, they made it look airtight. Off-shore accounts, wired transfers, shipment manifests—they’re all under alliances connected to your company.”
I was quiet, my jaw tightening to accent the frown on my face.
“That Blair girl did you dirty, brother,” Roman said, brows furrowing.
My fingers curled into fists on both hands. “Now what?”
Colton glanced at Roman, then cleared his throat. “They’re saying you’ll be held indefinitely until trial.”
“The Bureau’s pushing harder than we thought. They wanna make an example out of you.”
Let them try.
If those bastards thought that they’d take me out without consequences, then they had something else coming. It didn’t matter the outcome of the trial; I would certainly get out of jail at some point. And when I did, I would have my revenge on everyone who was behind this.
I would find Blair and make her pay for her betrayal, then take my child from her. But for now, let the judge and jury decide my fate.
***
The day of the hearing arrived quicker than expected. The courtroom was filled with whispers, quiet hostility, and unspoken tension. Murmurs rose from the crowd as I walked in, bound by the cuffs on my wrists.
Two huge guards flanked both my sides—not to protect me, but to protect the crowd from me.
My boots pounded against the floorboards as I waltzed in with my head held up high, my self-esteem still very much intact. At the back wall, I spotted a group of reporters with their pens and notepads, eager to witness the downfall of the Mafia kingpin, Nikolai Tarasov.
Once the hearing began, the prosecutor, a tall woman in her late fifties, rose from her chair. She stepped in front of the court, laying out the charges, dragging my name through the filth.
“Your Honor,” she said, “we’re dealing with a monster who partnered with Richard Kane to build an organization whose sole purpose was kidnapping young girls.”
“Objection, Your Honor.” Colton rose from his chair.
“Overruled,” the judge said, casually dismissing him.
The prosecutor continued, “Evidence places Mr. Tarasov at the center of the trafficking ring where he locked up those innocent girls. Mr. Tarasov is a liar and a fraud who built his business on the exploitation of weak, vulnerable girls.” She paused, letting the words sink in.
I clenched my jaw to control my anger. It would’ve been better if I were here because of a crime I actually committed. This was a low blow, even for me.
“Men like him shouldn’t be allowed to freely walk the streets of our beloved city. Not after funding and profiting off of human misery,” she ended her case.
The courtroom fell silent.
Colton adjusted his tie and rose to his feet. “Your Honor, my client is being falsely accused,” he began. “His business is legitimate, and there is no evidence whatsoever linking him to Kane’s traffic ring.”
At this point, I stopped listening. It didn’t matter how good Colton was; these people were determined to bury me, and they would do anything to make sure I didn’t escape the “wrath” of the law.
As the argument between Colton and the prosecutor began to escalate, the judge’s voice caught my attention when he said, “Enough. Bring the witness to the stand.”
Witness?
The sound of her heels clicking on the floor echoed in my head as she walked toward the stand, accompanied by a bailiff.
I rose when I saw her—Blair Blake.
She was the witness called to bury me, like she hadn’t done enough already. Her eyes flicked toward me for a fleeting moment before she faced the court. She was dressed in an impeccably tailored black blazer, her soft brown curls cascading down her shoulders.
This was the first time I had seen her since the arrest, and I couldn’t help the emotion swelling inside me. A mix of hatred, anger, and affection.
Blair swore the oath to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. I noticed how her stormy green-gray eyes were duller than before and how her hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
She avoided my gaze, but I refused to take my eyes off her. I wanted her to look at me while she lied to the judge and the court.
In my whole life, no one’s betrayal had ever cut deeper than hers. I hoped she was proud of herself, the good job she’d done.
“State your name for the record,” said the prosecutor.
She cleared her throat and leaned closer to the microphone. “Blair Blake.”
“Just to be clear, you’re one of the trafficked girls, correct?”
“That’s correct,” she answered, her voice soft but steady.
“Miss Blake, can you tell the court your experience with your kidnapper?”
“It was horrible,” she answered almost immediately.
My heart shattered at this point.
She continued, “He kidnapped me, locked me up with some other girls. He starved us for days and then put us up for sale like vintage cars.” Her tone was laced with disdain and pure hatred.
I couldn’t believe how quickly she turned so cold.
“You must’ve been afraid,” the prosecutor added, nudging Blair in the direction she wanted her statement to go.
“I was terrified. We all were,” Blair said, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye. “He was a monster, and he subjected us to things I cannot freely reveal to the court—horrible, horrible things.”
I lowered my head, fingers rubbing my eyes. She was doing it again—she was performing for an audience, and everything she said was believable.
The prosecutor stepped closer to her. “When you say ‘he,’ you’re referring to the defendant, Mr. Nikolai Tarasov, correct?”
Blair, for the first time since this hearing began, turned to face me, her eyes locked to mine. “No,” she said.
A low murmur around me as tension and confusion hovered over the court.
“I’m talking about Richard Kane,” she clarified. “He was the monster who kidnapped us—he was the owner of the human trafficking ring. Not Mr. Tarasov.”
The murmurs grew louder this time, chaos slowly rising from the crowd.
“Order!” The judge slammed his hammer on the pad.
Blair shocked everyone when she went ahead to add, her voice bold and audacious, “Mr. Tarasov had nothing to do with our kidnapping. In fact, he was the one who saved us all.” She looked right into my eyes, and her expression softened. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be alive today.”
Voices fell silent. The judge’s brows lifted, and the members of the jury exchanged glances.
I couldn’t believe my eyes and ears. The woman I thought was going to bury me for good ended up burning her bridge to save me.
She spoke the truth regardless of the outcome. And right now, I wasn’t sure whether to damn her for her deception—or thank her for retracing her steps.
As the noise in the courtroom faded into the background, time seemed to slow down. My eyes were narrowed on her, and when her lips parted into a small smile, I felt something spark inside me.
Despite my confusion, one thing was certain. She’d done the right thing. She told the truth and cleared my name.