Chapter 13 - Nico #2
Kliment’s expression turned cold. Dangerously cold. The expression Romanovs reserved for people whose futures were about to become very unpleasant.
“We’ll handle it.”
I almost felt sorry for whoever was responsible. Almost.
By the time I returned home, the sky had darkened completely.
The day had been long and stressful and had forced me to ask too many questions for my liking.
My head felt crowded, and unfortunately, none of the problems we had were solved.
I still needed answers, and most of these answers were ones I could easily get from Vera.
I stepped into the penthouse and immediately found myself thinking about her.
Not again, Nico.
This was becoming a problem ever since that night two weeks ago.
Ever since she had somehow dismantled months of anger with a single confession and one reckless moment of weakness.
Everything had become harder after that because I felt as if I was incapable of doing anything without her.
Sleeping. Thinking. Working. Existing. Vera was everywhere.
Every memory had turned into fresh ammunition because I remembered exactly how she felt in my arms.
Exactly how she laughed.
Exactly how she looked afterward.
The memories refused to leave me alone, which was deeply inconvenient.
I tossed my keys onto the table, and the sound echoed softly.
There was no response from anywhere, and the penthouse remained quiet.
For a moment, I considered heading directly to my office, but instead, my feet carried me toward the living room.
And there she was. Curled into one corner of the sofa.
Reading.
A lamp cast soft light across her features, making her skin appear golden.
She somehow managed to look warm yet dangerous at the same time.
I smiled as I noticed her wearing comfortable pajamas when, for the past two weeks, she had been wearing skimpy lingerie around me as if trying for a repeat episode.
That had made it even more impossible to exist.
She looked up immediately as if she’d sensed my presence.
Maybe she had. The tension arrived instantly.
Like always. It was invisible yet electric.
Impossible to ignore. For several seconds, neither of us spoke, and I hated how much I enjoyed looking at her.
I hated how much worse it had become. Then she closed her book slowly, turning her attention entirely towards me.
“You’re home late.”
The words were simple but laced with a domestic appeal.
Somehow, that made them infinitely more dangerous.
I found myself staring at her longer than necessary, taking in details I shouldn’t have noticed.
The way her hair fell over one shoulder.
The oversized sweater she wore over her pajamas and the bare feet tucked beneath her.
Every single thing felt familiar. Comfortable. Which was exactly the problem.
“Nico?”
I blinked. Right. She was still talking to me.
“I was working.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “That sounds suspiciously responsible.”
I almost smiled. Almost. Instead, I sat down across from her, but the distance felt insufficient. She studied me carefully, and something shifted in her expression. There was concern. Real concern.
“What happened?” I shouldn’t have answered. I knew that.
Yet somehow, I did. “Another attack.”
Her entire posture changed, immediately. “What? Where?”
“At one of the Romanov warehouses.”
The color drained slightly from her face. And suddenly Kliment’s questions returned.
Could Manny Stavros have known about us?
Vera’s fingers tightened around the book just slightly. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but I did.
“Nico.”
Her voice sounded careful. Too careful. “Yes?”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
Relief flashed through her expression. Genuine relief. Not the reaction of somebody helping orchestrate attacks. The realization settled immediately, which somehow complicated everything further. I knew she wasn’t involved in any of this. She hadn’t even tried running away even once.
Vera exhaled slowly. Thank God. The words were almost whispered.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asked, noticing my expression.
I looked away immediately, which was a mistake. Because the second I did, I caught the scent of her perfume, and suddenly, remembering warehouse fires became significantly more difficult.
Jesus Christ.
This woman was going to kill me. Not with betrayal. Not with lies. Not with violence. But simply with proximity. I stood abruptly, and Vera blinked.
“I’m not. I am sorry.”
“What are you feeling?” Excellent question. I wished I knew.
“I have to go to work, I replied instead, refusing to answer her question.
“Nico.”
I looked at her. Big mistake. Those eyes. Always those eyes.
“Yes?”
For a second, she seemed uncertain. Then she shook her head.
“Nothing.”
We stared at each other, and the distance between us suddenly felt very small.
I cleared my throat and turned, heading toward my office.
I knew I was retreating, but I needed to do that because right now I had warehouse attacks to solve.
Enemies to identify. Brothers to update.
And problems to manage. Instead, I was standing in my living room thinking about how beautiful Vera looked while reading a book. Something was very wrong with me.
And unfortunately, I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.