Chapter Thirteen
Nikolai
I glance down at the phone again, wondering if we’ll ever get a response.
Though we did send the video of Chiara to Dario, we haven’t heard anything back yet, and it’s been almost seven days now. We did use an untraceable line, but there was always an option for him to leave a message.
I guess her brother didn’t quite get the memo.
My smirk deepens as I think about Chiara, my darling, feeling my cock beginning to react already.
She’s been with us for a few weeks now, and she’s starting to be a lot of fun.
Always open to exploring.
Allowing us to touch her everywhere.
She’s happy to kiss us too.
But when it comes to sex…that’s still a hard no.
She always shuts off when it gets to that, and Mikhail and I never push her for more.
Deep down inside, I know it won’t be long before she finally says yes, and we’re able to fuck that sweet Italian pussy of hers too.
I slide the phone into the drawer of my desk, closing it as I lock it, before I stand up.
Leaving my office, I walk through our house.
It’s quiet today.
I shake my head, choosing to ignore the question of why that may be as I head for the gym.
As soon as I step into the room, the smell of sweat, metal, and effort fills my lungs.
I spot Mikhail’s figure, his body moving in a steady rhythm as he works through crunches.
His naked chest rises and falls as the muscles in his stomach flex, the tattoos of snakes on his skin shifting with every breath he takes.
It’s all a clear sign of the discipline and dedication my brother puts into everything he does.
Mikhail is always in control of his body.
He has to be.
Leaning against the doorframe, I watch my brother for a moment.
I know he feels me standing there, but he doesn’t acknowledge me right away. He doesn’t need to. We’ve always had the talent of speaking things through with just a flicker of our eyes.
It’s funny, really.
As twins, we share the same blood, the same face, the same history.
Yet when I look at my brother, I see somebody who can never be my exact copy, no matter how close we are in appearance. Yes, his face is a mirror of mine, but there’s something in the way that he carries himself that sets him apart.
Pushing myself off of the doorframe, I walk deeper into the room, my eyes tracking his every move.
Nobody else works harder than Mikhail—not a single soul.
Where I’m more calculated, careful about who to trust, and when to act, my brother is pure instinct.
But we’re also alike in so many ways too.
The same coldness, the same ruthless, the same violent streak.
I stop beside him, watching the muscles in his back flex as he finishes a set. There’s a glisten of sweat on his skin, and I know why he’s working so hard. It’s why I’ve been working so hard too.
Not only have we been raised for this life, but we’ve also taken a life just as precious, and we’re ready to fight back with all of our strength if needed.
Mikhail’s biceps bulge as he sits up, stretching his arms over his head before he turns, glancing over at me. His eyes are sharp, a flash of amusement in them.
“Are you admiring me, Nikolai?”
My brother asks me, his voice thick with the teasing tone I’m so familiar with.
I smirk, shaking my head at him.
“Not at all, brat. I’m simply admiring the dedication.”
Mikhail lets out a short laugh, a sound I’ve always found a little unsettling coming from him.
So raw…so unlike the rest of him.
“Don’t get used to it.” He says, grabbing his towel as he wipes the sweat from his face. “You know you’ll never be able to keep up.”
I chuckle.
“I don’t need to. I have my own way of getting things done.”
Mikhail shrugs, the muscle beneath his skin shifting.
“As long as we’re both getting results, it doesn’t matter.”
I nod.
We always do.
There’s absolutely nobody who can touch us—not in this world, and definitely not in our world.
Mikhail continues to wipe himself with the towel, his sharp eyes flickering briefly to the door behind me, then back to me.
Silently understanding, silently agreeing.
There’s no need to talk much, not really, not when we both know what’s expected of us.
“Is there anything else on your mind?”
My brother asks me, his voice steady.
I glance over at him, feeling the corners of my lips twitching.
“Chiara.”
He sucks a deep breath in, pausing for a second, before he throws the towel to one side.
“She’s ours, Nikolai.” My brother says, his tone so confident. “She’s understanding that already.”
I open my mouth to speak—to discuss what the next step is, to discuss how we’ll introduce her to our world—when footsteps ring out behind me.
I immediately tense, but since Mikhail barely reacts, I have no reason to.
I glance over my shoulder, watching as our father steps into the gym with us. He’s a tall man, his broad frame blocking out most of the light from the hallway, as his presence fills the room. It’s not only his size that demands attention; it’s the way that he carries himself.
He walks with a purpose, with eyes as blue as Mikhail’s and mine, never missing anything. The sharpness in them tells me that he’s been thinking about this situation—our very own captive—for far too long now.
He stops walking when he’s standing beside us both, his hair neatly combed back, his face clearly showing the weight of his experience, and authority too. A silent moment passes between us before he speaks.
“We have news.” He begins to say, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that immediately draws my full attention. “Somebody has made contact. The Italian princess is alive.”
I feel my chest tighten with every word that leaves his mouth, but I don't let it show on my face.
Neither does Mikhail.
We school our features, keeping our stances relaxed. My eyes remain trained on our father, unwilling to give anything away.
In return, his eyes flicker between both of us, and although he doesn’t say anything, I know what he expects of us.
He wants us to act, to bring the Italian princess to safety, and to reunite her with her family.
It’s a pity that won’t be happening.
I glance over towards my brother who remains just as calm as me, his posture unfazed. As our father continues, I move my eyes back on him.
“They don’t know the people behind this, or the motive for this, but we cannot afford to underestimate this situation any longer. It has been four weeks now, my sons. Four gruelling weeks in which a father, and a brother, have suffered.”
Again, he drags his eyes between us both, making sure that we understand the full weight of his words.
“The Italians are dangerous when they feel threatened, and this girl is important to them. We need to make sure that she is found, and that she is alive and well.” He pauses, his jaw tightening, as he releases a steady breath.
He closes his eyes, a slither of vulnerability washing over his ageing face, before he looks at both of us again.
“She is rumoured to be held captive in Arizona. Go, my sons, and find her. Return her to her family.”
My chest tightens as I force a sharp breath out, but my face remains impassive.
Arizona?
What. The. Fuck.
Who the fuck came up with that idea?
“Arizona is Cartel territory. What interest do they have with some girl?”
Our father shakes his head at Mikhail’s question, clearly as confused as we are.
“Like I said, she is rumoured to be there. Nothing has been proven yet. Perhaps you two will do a better job of finding her than the Italians have.”
I close my eyes momentarily, breathing out heavily.
Fuck.
This is creating a whole new world of problems.
Our father has no idea.
The Italian princess he so desperately wants to save?
She’s hidden in plain sight, right under his roof.
He has no idea that she’s already been found—taken—and is safe too.
I exchange a quick look with Mikhail, taking in the way that he gives me a barely noticeable nod. It’s clear that we’re both still on the same page. Now, we just need to make sure that we don’t slip up.
Our father clears his throat, demanding all attention again.
“Like I’ve said many times now, this girl is important.
She matters to the Italians, and that means she matters to us too.
We need to keep this relationship between them and us strong, and if that means that we need to step in to help them solve their own problems, then so be it.
Take some soldiers with you both, and I’ll arrange for the jet to be ready in the meantime.
This girl is the key to everything, my sons.
Do not hesitate to return her to her family once she is found. ”
I nod at him, meeting his gaze.
My chest rises and falls as I swallow hard.
“Mikhail and I will do our best to find her, Otets.”
I say, my voice controlled.
His eyes linger on us both for a moment longer, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s no mistaking that there’s a fatherly sense of pride in his gaze, or maybe it’s just the knowledge that he knows what we’re capable of. Either way, it’s enough for Mikhail and myself.
With one final nod in our direction, he turns as he walks out of the gym, his footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving us both with only the sounds of our heavy breathing.
Mikhail barely reacts. His eyes are locked on the space where our father has walked towards, as if he’s considering doing something. When he looks over at me, I see the sharpness in his eyes, the same edge of determination I can feel in my gut.
“We’ll handle this, Nikolai.”
He tells me, his voice low.
I want to agree…but how can I?
It’s too much.
New York to Arizona…sending our soldiers over…working in Cartel territory…helping the Italians…
There’s no point.
We already know where she is; right where we left her.
“We can’t leave her alone for so long.” I rasp out, my mind racing with every bad thought. “How can she deal if neither one of us is there with her?”
Mikhail releases a heavy breath, finally breaking the silence with some words of his own.