Chapter 69
Aurelia
My dress is soaked, clinging to me, the crimson blotches turning the fabric into something unrecognizable. The smell of iron hangs in the garage, thicker than the oil and diesel fumes. My hands tremble once—only once—before I force them still.
I find it hard not to stare as Elijah covers my father’s lifeless body and places him in the back seat of his SUV but I force my neck to twist.
I turn back to Enzo and press the handle of the knife into his palm. His fingers close over it without hesitation, his smirk satisfied.
He’d like to think this was his plan. But we both know Dante would never have let his guard down for anyone but me—a helpless little girl in his eyes, the one weapon he never saw coming.
“You know…” My voice is low, steady. “I think you’re going to be a great leader, Enzo.”
He reaches up and wipes a streak of blood from near my eye with his thumb. The gesture is almost tender. “Thank you, Aurelia,” he says, and something about the way he uses my full name lands directly, filling my heart.
I manage a small smile. “I’m a little worried about what all this pressure is gonna do to your pent up issues and secret temper but I trust we can find you a good therapist.”
He laughs a low rumble while shaking his head. “Please, only one of us is damaged enough to fall in love with not one, but two men who were meant to be off limits.”
I kiss my teeth, “Whatever, Mr. Doesn’t-Believe-In-Love, we’ll see what it does to you.”
My heels click on the concrete as I turn toward Elijah, who is now guarding the closed car door.
Each step echoes in the empty space. My heart still hammering with a strange calm.
But I stop mid-step.
The sound of an engine slices through the silence, low and predatory. A Rolls-Royce comes screaming into the garage, tires spitting, and glides to a sudden stop right at my feet, the air around it rippling with heat from the hood.
The door swings open, and Nikolai steps out of the car, not bothering to turn it off.
He scans me in the light, tracing every stain on my dress, every tremor in my hands.
“Whose blood is that?” he demands, panicked.
“Yours if you don’t calm down.” Elijah spits.
I whip my head at the comment.
Since when is Elijah so moody?
Nikolai crouches slightly, ignoring him and reaching out as if to check for wounds, but I stop him.
“I’m okay, Nik.” My voice is raspy but firm. I lift my bloodied hand and press it to his cheek. The warmth of my palm contrasting with the cold grit of him.
His eyes flicker—shock, relief, something deeper that he tries not to show. The edge of his jaw relaxes just enough for me to see it.
“Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu,” I whisper, the words trembling yet deliberate.
I love you too.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to the two of us, and nothing else exists.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. His hands find my waist, steadying me. For the first time since the night began, I feel the weight of the storm outside fade, replaced by the certainty that, for now, we still have each other.
Nikolai’s anger quickly replaces the relief in his face, his hands pressed into fists at his sides. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the plan, Enzo?” His voice is lethal and barely contained.
Enzo shrugs, calm as ever. “You got the address I gave to your more likable brother.” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, but the undercurrent is unmistakable.
Nikolai’s eyes flick to me, then back to Enzo. “And the rest?” he snarls.
“As long as she chooses, she goes with you,” Enzo continues, surprising me with every word. “To a safe house in Ravetta. Ivan, Maksim, and you. No one else.” He pauses, letting the words settle in the air. “If she goes, you’re promised De Luca protection.”
“Good,” Nikolai confirms.
I glance at him, brow furrowed. “But your father?”
“That’s why Ravetta is safest,” Nikolai says, locking eyes with me. “I will remain a key member of the Bratva, but the primary heir will pass to Adrian. We need distance from the power struggles, not proximity to them.”
Enzo steps closer, folding his arms. “I’ve reinforced the changes. I’ll serve the Orlov alliance and keep the balance while Adrian officially assumes the title. Everything will fall into place, but only if you want it.”
Elijah, who has been quiet until now, finally speaks, softer, almost pleading. “Aurelia, you don’t have to go with Nikolai for it to work. You can come back to the manor with me and Enzo. We can—” He swallows. “We can do better. It’ll still work. You’ll still be safe.”
I look between them—Nikolai, Enzo, Elijah—and for the first time in hours, I feel the weight of my own power. I can choose. Not because anyone is giving it to me, but because they’ve all made the arrangements around me, not against me.
Nikolai’s gaze locks on Elijah, and I’m pretty sure I missed something because I was under the impression they got along… Nikolai said they kept busy together… maybe that wasn’t good.
His hand flexes at his side, and the air between them hums with restrained fury.
“He shouldn’t be this close to you,” Nikolai says. “He looks at you like you’re still his.”
I step in front of him before the words can turn into something worse. “Nik… you know Elijah and I are friends”
“You know what you are to me,” Elijah whispers from behind me.
Um, is he trying to get killed?
Seriously… Nikolai has shot the last two guys to touch me and I’m assuming he isn’t growing a conscience anytime soon.
I close my eyes trying to focus on taming this situation. “Yes, we care about each other deeply, and yes, I loved him first.” Nikolai’s glare darkens. “But I love you now. I only love you now.”
My hand brushes his chest, right over the heart I know beats just as violently as mine. “They’re a part of me too… Enzo, Elijah, Adrian. You don’t have to understand it, but you do have to trust me.”
He exhales hard through his nose, head dipping until his forehead nearly touches mine. His voice drops to a rough whisper. “I’m not sharing you. I’m just… tolerating the idiots you collect.”
I smile, small but sure.
His hand comes up, cupping the side of my face, thumb tracing the line of my jaw. There’s tension in his touch, but it isn’t about control anymore, it’s about need. The kind that makes both of us tremble.
“I hate how much I need you,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I breathe. “I need you too.”
I squeeze his hand until my knuckles ache—hard, tight, a tether I don’t want him to forget. Then I step out of his reach and into Elijah’s space.
“Yeah, okay, just try not to get my friend killed, please,” Enzo mumbles from near the car.
The hug I give Elijah is all pressure and words I can’t say. My arms clamp around his shoulders, my face buried in the hollow of his neck, and for a breath I feel the ordinary, quiet steadiness of him.
I lean back just enough that my lips ghost the shell of his ear. “Thank you for protecting me,” I whisper, soft as a secret. It’s more than gratitude, it’s binding.
Then I let him go.
Nikolai watches me the whole way back to him, the pulse at his throat visible under the skin. Everything about him wound taut. When I reach him, I don’t hesitate. I take his face in my hands and pull him to me.
The kiss is a thing that steals the air.
It’s brutal and slow and full of history—his mouth demanding and careful, my lips answering with all the complicated things I don’t say aloud.
His hands find my waist, fingers pressing into me.
For a moment, the garage, the men, the blood—all of it—blurs into a wash of colour and heat.
“Fantastic. Amazing. I love watching the guy I hate eat her face.” Someone mutters with laughter following.
We break apart only when someone clears his throat loud enough to slice the bubble.
Enzo stands there, all smug and theatrical, and does this ridiculous, disgusted little half-laugh.
“Alright,” he says. “This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.
” He flings something at my thigh, light and fast, and I fumble the box open.
“Take it before I break up this exchange with bullets.”
It’s a phone—my first phone—the screen bright with an address already typed in, numbers saved.
“Phone’s got the address,” Enzo announces, all flourish. “Please leave before I have to kill Nikolai for touching you.” He grins, the threat wrapped in a joke only half-fake.
I laugh—a raw, small sound—and slide the phone into my hand.
Nikolai’s fingers close around my waist, and I look up at him, into his dark, daring eyes, and the world tilts right again.
Turning toward his Rolls Royce, I press the phone tight against my stomach, ready for whatever this choice will mean.