Chapter 39
Nikolai
Present
Should I be taking her out of her very secure containment? No.
Should I be speaking to her at all? No.
Should I feel excited at the brush of her fucking fingertips? Absolutely not.
And yet—here I am.
I’m bringing her to my room. Not because it’s safe, not because it’s wise, but because I need time with her away from Adrian’s grating presence. Away from the eyes of my men. Away from the world.
I tell myself I’m still in control. That I’m just moving pieces on the board. That this is strategy, discipline. But the truth? I’m a good leader, yes, but I’m still human. And right now, my father’s plans can wait.
The corridors are a maze of concrete and steel, and I make sure to lead her through every one of them.
I take us down a hallway, around the table, then up and down the same set of stairs three times.
I twist her around corners, guide her through doorways, and double back when there’s no need.
Disorientation. I want her lost enough that even if she escapes, she’ll never find this path again.
But what unsettles me is her silence.
Most people would beg, cry, curse my name. She doesn’t. She doesn’t even breathe heavier when I spin her back the way we came. She simply follows, her steps even, her grip steady. She lets me lead her through the dark without a word.
And it infuriates me.
It makes me want to speak first, to break the silence just to remind her who holds the power here. But she waits. Patient. Calculating. And I’m the one who feels cornered.
By the time we reach the entrance to my room, my temper is stretched thin.
I push open the door and guide her inside. The air changes immediately—less humid, but still warm, touched by the faint scent of leather and smoke.
I sit her down on the edge of my bed.
My bed.
That alone is hazardous. I’ve never let anyone sit there without bleeding afterward.
For a long moment, I leave the room dark, letting her wonder, letting her imagine what I might do. Then I lift the lights to a dim glow. Shadows cling to the walls, the edges of the room swallowed whole, but the bed is illuminated just enough to make her visible to me.
I move to stand in front of her, my posture rigid, arms folded behind my back—and still—still—she doesn’t speak. Her lips are closed, her chin tilted just enough to look defiant, but her eyes… her eyes study me as if she’s the one dissecting me.
This girl is so annoying.
I let out a slow, measured breath through my nose, because if I don’t, I’ll laugh or curse or do something far less disciplined.
“You said you wanted to talk, malyshka.”
“You brought me to your room?”
She says it like a question, her eyes moving over the bare walls before her hand drags slowly across my silk sheets. Black against pale skin. A deliberate touch.
“Obviously,” I reply flatly, wondering—not for the first time—how the hell my men couldn’t catch this girl until now.
She smiles. The kind of smile that makes me suspicious.
Is she high, and I missed it? Or is she just insane? I have no idea what she’s thinking right now.
“Do I upset you for some reason?”
Is she a mind reader?
“I don’t get upset, malyshka.” I take a step closer, letting her look up at me with those glacial blue eyes that are far too enticing for her own good. “And you…” I tilt my head, studying her. “You do not have the capability to upset me.”
“Okay.”
Okay.
There’s no way this girl isn’t some kind of robot. Or maybe she’s just built out of chaos.
I stand there in silence, my mouth tight, because she’s starting to piss me off—and she knows it.
“Are you going to speak?” I snap, losing myself for a moment.
“Alright, grumpy pants, let’s talk.”
I blink at her. Confused. Did she just—
She stands, bold as hell, and grabs my hand. My hand.
Pulling until I sit beside her on the edge of my own bed. She crosses her legs and gestures for me to do the same.
Not a chance in hell.
She lets out a frustrated breath. “Okay, I would like to make an arrangement in order to save my life.”
My brows rise, amused despite myself. “Go on.”
“I know you know that I didn’t do anything wrong. I was supposed to be killed as a baby, but I was hidden instead. I didn’t steal from you, I didn’t hurt you, and there’s no reason for me to be here.”
“Didn’t you kill one of my men a couple of days ago?” I ask, tilting my head.
“Um, that was actually self-defence, so I get a pass.”
I laugh ironically. “You get a pass for killing a Bratva man?”
“Yes.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Okay.”
She blinks. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you your pass…” I lean closer, voice dropping, “… if you tell me about Elijah and Enzo. I want to know your brother’s plan for running his side of the island, and I want to know how you really feel about your little boyfriend.”
She hesitates, glancing away, but I already know her answer. Those two boys are the only people she cares about. The only leverage I need.
“I was thinking literally anything else.”
My smile is instant. “No deal, malyshka. You can stay in your cage.”
I stand, ready to walk away, when her fingers curl around my arm again. I freeze, watching her with narrowed eyes as she slides off the bed and lowers herself to the floor, kneeling at my feet.
“Aurelia…” It’s a warning.
“I can give you something else,” she whispers, her head tilted back to meet my stare. “Something I think you want.”
Before I can force her up, her hand presses against the bulge straining my pants.
How is she this bold? She should be afraid, but she isn’t.
Why the fuck isn’t she scared of me?
I should stop her. I should put her back in chains, remind her that she’s not the one with power here. But when her fingers slide down to my zipper, when the sound of it cutting through the silence fills the room, I don’t move. I don’t breathe.
She tugs my pants down with infuriating slowness, her blue eyes never leaving mine, waiting for the moment I’ll say no. But fuck—someone would have to shoot me in the head to make me stop this.
Her hand slips beneath the band of my boxers, wrapping around my length. My jaw clenches, my control splinters, and I help her bring them down to give her better access.
That smile spreads across her face again—that devious, dangerous smile, clasping her bottom lip between her perfect teeth just before her tongue teases me from base to tip, slow and deliberate.
Then she takes me into her mouth, sucking, twisting her tongue in ways that have me cursing under my breath.
Her head bobs up and down, wrapping both hands around my cock and twisting.
“Fuck…” The word rips out of me as I stare down at her, knuckles whitening as I brace myself against the ceiling beam.
Saliva drips from her mouth, but she keeps her eyes on me, daring me to look away first. But I don’t. I thrust into her mouth, fucking it hard enough to make her break.
Fire coils in my chest, every nerve in me tightening, every thought narrowing to her—her eyes, her smirk, her impossible confidence.
Her lips twitch, but she opens wider, her tongue out and begging for me.
I feel myself coming undone from the inside. My control splinters in ways I didn’t think possible. Every second she holds my gaze feels like an eternity, a push and pull I can’t escape. Anger and something far worse twist together, leaving me raw and electric.
Fuck, she wins. My head falls back; I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.
She’s too good at this. Too confident for a girl who’s supposed to be terrified. The girl I once knew.
I’m lost in it. In her. In the tension she creates. I feel myself unravelling, pulse pounding, closer and closer—
And then it stops.
My eyes jerk open. She’s already on her feet, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as though she didn’t just have me ready to fall apart in her mouth.
“What the fuck?” My voice is raw, gravel-edged.
She smirks, perfectly collected, the perfect contrast to the storm she’s just left in me. She extends her hand, as if making a business arrangement.
“Do we have a deal?”
I stare at her, disbelieving. This girl. This fucking girl.
You have to be kidding me.
“Get back on your knees, Aurelia.”
“Oops.” Her tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m not a sex toy. I’ll do you a favour if you do one for me.” She shrugs. “If not, I’m happy to go back to my cage.”
The audacity.
I’ve never forced a girl in my life, but right now I want nothing more than to shove her back to the floor and make her keep going until I break. My body screams for it. My blood roars for it.
But I am an Orlov. And an Orlov doesn’t beg.
I drag my pants back up with intense, controlled movements, forcing the weakness out of me. My hand reaches out, clamping around her chin, yanking her face up to mine.
“You think this is a game?” Venom laces my every word. “You think you have control here, but you don’t. You are nothing.”
Her eyes flash, but I don’t stop. I lean closer, twisting the knife deeper.
“You are a girl who will be fucked by my father and burned on a stake for your mother’s desperate pussy.”
Her lips part, trembling, her eyes watering. Finally—fear.
Good.
For the first time since she was dragged into my world, she understands the severity of her capture.
I shove her back, releasing her chin with a clip of finality. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
She stumbles away, silent. And I stand there, chest heaving, every muscle tight with fury.
I’ve scared her. Broken her. Reminded her of where she is.
And yet, I will be dead before I allow another soul to lay a hand on my prisoner.