Chapter 58
Aurelia
The water is warm, steam curling around us and fogging the mirror above the sink. Nikolai sits on a stool beside the tub, grey sleeves rolled to his forearms, his hands steady as he runs a cloth down my shoulder.
It should feel humiliating, having him tend to me like this, washing me like I’m some fragile thing. But his touch is careful in a way that makes my chest ache.
Should I have slept with Nikolai a few hours ago? No, probably not.
But I can at least say I tried to kill him. I mean, I hardly lifted the knife, but at least I considered it.
He hasn’t mentioned it since, so I’m still waiting for that conversation.
It was probably a bit too drastic for me to consider. I know that.
I only knew Adrian for a week, and he grew into someone I trusted and cared for. Does it mean I am being too harsh with my disdain for Nikolai?
Possibly.
But no matter how much I learn about who he is, it will never change the fact that he has to die in order for me to escape—and for Enzo to fix our father’s mistakes.
“Are you always this gentle?” I whisper, half to break the silence, half because I need to know.
“Only with you,” he says simply.
My heart skips. I don’t want it to, but it does.
The TV show he put on plays faintly in the background, the familiar lines and laughter making the moment feel almost… normal. I catch myself smiling once, and when I glance at him, he’s already watching me. Always watching me.
“I told you I’d show you the capabilities of control and submission, Aurelia, and I intend to do so.
I thought you might handle the control better to start.
” He switches languages, but I don’t think he means to, continuing, “Znay, chto, khotya ya i yavlyayus’ naslednikom beskonechnoy vlasti, ty budesh’ imet’ vlast’ nado mnoy, yesli zakhochesh’.
” He resumes cupping water to spread it down my hair.
“I’m sorry I tried to stab you. I probably shouldn’t have.”
“You don’t have to apologize, malyshka. I love your fire, especially when it’s directed at me.”
I’m surprised by his willingness to forget my attempt on his life, considering I stabbed him once and attempted to cut his throat another time.
Regardless, here he is, gently massaging shampoo into my hair, careful not to let it drip down my face.
This is my third time being naked in front of Nikolai, yet I’m completely comfortable in my skin, with him looking at and touching me.
I think it’s because he hasn’t taken anything from me that I haven’t wanted to give.
Later, when the bath is drained and I’m wrapped in one of his shirts, he guides me to the bed.
“I’ll be gone for a couple of hours. You can sleep or watch any of the movies in the cabinet.”
I stare at him, throat dry, in utter shock—because I don’t want him to leave.
I can’t tell him that, of course, so I settle on, “Thanks.”