Chapter 43
Aurelia
“What the fuck,” I whisper, spitting blood and bile from my mouth. My hands shake as I reach for the bed sheet and press it tight to my chest, the metallic tang of blood filling my nose.
I am no stranger to men being executed in front of my face, but the blood is inside my mouth.
I would have to be psychopathic to not feel absolutely disgusting right now.
Nikolai steps forward, his gun slicing the space between Sergio’s lifeless body and me.
Every movement he makes is precise and terrifying. His jaw is rigid, but he isn’t even glancing at my nakedness. No—his stormy gaze is locked on mine, measuring and clearly furious.
I scramble with my heart hammering, trying to wipe the blood off of me while still remaining covered.
“Are you stupid, Aurelia?” He cuts through the haze of shock and disgust.
“What?” I wobble, trying to reclaim some shred of control.
I haven’t seen him in three days, not since his little fit when I refused to finish sucking his dick. “I’m not your property, Nikolai. I can fuck who I want, when I want!”
“You felt like fucking a desperate teenager who’s never touched a woman who wasn’t unconscious?” His words slice through me, full of venom and disbelief.
“He’s almost twenty!” I retort, my chest rising and falling rapidly.
I don’t even know if that’s true—he could have just turned nineteen.
But then… the second part of his sentence hits me. My stomach knots, confusion and horror flooding me. “Unconscious?” I whisper, trembling.
Nikolai’s eyes darken, every inch of him radiating cold, deadly intent. “If you think anyone working for the Bratva isn’t a criminal, Aurelia… you’re more naive than you realize.”
My stare drops to the boy I’d thought I could handle, the one who seemed harmless moments ago. The truth of him—the violence, the predatory intent—makes my nausea violently increase.
I can’t hold it.
I vomit beside his body, bile hot and acrid, spreading across the floor and onto the edges of Sergio’s lifeless body. My knees buckle, hands shaking, and the sheer weight of what I’ve witnessed, combined with what I almost participated in, crushes me.
Nikolai stands, gun still in hand, but lowered to his side, silent except for the barely audible drip of blood. His eyes never leave me, but now they hold something else, what might almost be… disappointment.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, gagging again. I can’t imagine how disgusted he must be with me right now.
But before he could say anything, I let out my first thought. “And you,” I murmur, “are you just as repulsive?”
He smirks, tight with venom. “I don’t need to be forceful with my women, malyshka. Unlike you, most women enjoy my cock.”
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound catching in my throat. “Those women are lying,” I bite.
Almost naked, covered only by a small, flimsy sheet which doesn’t even cover the flecks of blood and bile, I feel… surprisingly safe in his presence.
He leans back slightly, but his eyes never leave me. There’s amusement in them, but it’s edged with that unmistakable, lethal undercurrent that makes my pulse spike.
Slowly, he removes his black jacket and extends it toward me.
We don’t speak. I take it wordlessly, turning my back to him.
The blanket drops, and I feel his gaze tracing the curve of my shoulders and the lines of my back. I shiver under it, a strange mix of exposure and heat. Carefully, I lift my arms and pull the jacket over me, tucking it around my body before turning back to meet his eyes.
“So,” he says finally, “what was your plan? Fuck him so well he decides to let you go… or just keep yourself busy until you’re killed in front of your family?”
I shrug, giving him nothing. No hint, no justification, no apology—just a blank stare. “Fuck him good enough to let me go I guess.”
He lets out a deep laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
But before I can respond further, he’s walking over to me, tightening his grip on my arm. I stumble slightly as he hauls me upright, holding me in his arms, his strength undeniable as his body doesn’t even flinch at the weight of me, his control absolute.
My senses reignite, every nerve alive as the world tilts and shifts. We move up a narrow set of stairs, each step pulling me deeper into his domain, the weight of his presence pressing down on me.
Finally, we stop, the dim light casting the familiar doorway of his room into view.
Walking inside, Nikolai sets me down, locks the door behind me, and then moves toward a feature wall at the back of the room.
A secret door pushes open silently, revealing more space than I could have ever imagined.
The room stretches beyond the two main doors I had noticed before, with hidden corners, sleek furniture, and dim lighting that makes the shadows feel deeper, more private.
My chest tightens, not just from fear, but from how impossibly vast and controlled everything feels now that I can see more.
Standing in the doorway of this newly found space, he holds out a hand for me.
I look around for a moment, confused about who he’s gesturing to right now, but when his movements refuse to falter, I feel obligated to do as he’s suggesting.
I take a few steps, bringing my hand into his, allowing him to guide me toward a bathroom, only releasing me once I’m standing in front of a gleaming glass shower.
“Clean yourself off.”
I let out a soft, incredulous giggle. “And what, you’re just going to… watch?”
“Don’t be so full of yourself, Aurelia. I’m not interested. Your friend Elijah and I have been busy enough without you,” he says casually, like he’s speaking about an everyday inconvenience.
I tense at the mention of his name, trying to keep unshakeable. “Elijah?”
I can’t help the slip—I wasn’t expecting that. But I try to save it. “I couldn’t care less.”
“That’s sweet, Aurelia. I like when you act unfazed,” he replies.
I force a smile, but there’s no real amusement in it. He notices, of course, and I can feel the scrutiny in his gaze even as he reaches into his pocket.
Before I can react, he pulls out his phone.
My stomach drops. The screen lights up, and there it is: Elijah, sipping a drink while a topless girl grinds on him.
Heat floods my face. It stings, but I can’t say I’m surprised.
After everything that’s happened, I know now.
Elijah never cared about me. Not like I wanted him to.
Not the way I had imagined. He’s just another guy, another person who never really saw the real me.
I force a small, brittle smile. “Cool. Where’s yours?”
“Mine?” His brow raises, clearly expecting a different reaction from me.
“Yeah. You know, with all the naked girls. I thought you kept busy?” My tone is teasing, but I keep my eyes down, hiding the bite behind the words.
“Get in the shower, malyshka,” he says, turning away. Without another word, he leaves and locks the door behind him.
Insane. Who has a shower with locks on both sides?
I turn the water on, steam filling the small space. But my instincts scream at me—I start opening every cabinet, every drawer, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. Empty. Every single one.
What the hell? I thought this was his room.
I check under the sink—only my favourite shampoo, conditioner, tampons, and pads. That’s it.
You’re kidding.
Why would Nikolai keep these things when I’m trapped in a cage, supposedly meant to be killed soon?
My pulse races. Part of me wants to panic, part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. But deep down, another part of me—one I’m not ready to admit—is starting to wonder if maybe… just maybe, he’s not planning to kill me.
I step under the stream of hot water, letting it cascade over me, but my hands never stop moving. I examine every inch of the room with my eyes, every detail, every shadow. Even wet, even vulnerable, I can’t let my guard down. Not here. Not now.