N I K O L A I

Moscow, Russia

One last night.

That's what she'd asked of me thirty days ago, and like a fool that I was, I'd agreed to give it to her. And even after days, I didn't know what weigh on me more. The fact that I'd agreed to it, or the fact that I hadn't made good on my word yet. Maybe I was a liar too. Just like her. And for reasons unfathomable to me, the thought of that comforted me, after all, what could be more treacherous than two liars loving each other, victims to a love too baneful for them. However, it seemed like with her I would always be the moth, oblivious to the way her flame would burn me even after all the times she'd left me burning in the hell she'd created for the both of us, fuelled by the love I once had for her. Because even after all this time, a part of me deplored my decision of leaving her with all the memories from eight years ago. Memories that I knew were choking both of us the same.

They said you could never unlove someone, and I fucking wished that it wasn't true, just so I could erase Keira Knight from my memory and all the ways she'd destroyed me. All the ways she'd cursed me to drown unless she was the only one pulling me to shore.

Her drunk vulnerability had done things to me, and just like any naïve sailor I'd answered her siren call, except I'd already been lured death by her hands before, so it didn't make much of a difference this time, however, when she'd woken up, her gaze more resigned, I knew she'd already accepted that last night was all she had. And she wouldn't even have had that if she wasn't shitfaced, and if a part of my heart that'd been dead for ages didn't ache for her. In front of her, I acted like her little broken request hadn't done a number on me, nearly melting me on the spot, but her vulnerability had done something to me. Something I wasn't quite ready to face again.

So, here I was pouring vodka on the clusterfuck my life was, knowing Keira was somewhere around the mansion. I had her moved to my mansion three weeks ago after Maxim Zavod had been shot dead, and yes he was the same motherfucker who'd been leering at Keira. It also didn't help that almost everyone was now aware that Keira was my life. Even dedushka had called a week ago, asking about the authenticity of the news. Keira was no longer known as Keira Knight, she was Keira Chernova in the eyes of everyone who mattered, and living on her own, where any of enemies could get to her was no longer an option. I had an inkling the reason the news of my marriage had spread like wildfire was none other than my brother-in-law—Kyzer Knight, but I couldn't even fault him for making his association with me known for whatever reasons he had. Though I reckoned it was to lure Astley—rather Angelo Esposito—out so Kyzer could watch as life left the motherfucker. Kyzer was a smart man to make connections rather than blindly going after his greatest enemy. He had patience, and finesse to plot revenge, and for some twisted reason, I wanted to watch as he dished Astley's fate out.

I'd hadn't even taken another shot when a loud thud interrupted me, and I placed the tiny glass down on my table, walking towards the balcony door. I hadn't even stepped out when I saw Kyzer fucking Knight leaning against the wall, a subtle smirk on his face.

"There's doors for this, Kyzer."

"I'm not particularly fond of how your men treat me." Kyzer shrugged, his gaze sharp.

"Seems to me that they have a good reason for it," I pointed at the way he'd crashed on my balcony. For some reason this motherfucker was fond of grand entries and always managed to find blank spots in any security system.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, darling," Kyzer teased, straightening as he approached me, overlooking the garden, the shadows of the pine trees appearing grotesque at night. "I need to talk to you, and I can't have my whereabouts exposed."

"You've been talking—" I glanced at my Rolex for time, "—for the last five minutes, and I haven't heard anything of importance."

"Stop nagging me, and I'll tell you." Kyzer exhaled, his body language never betraying his calm façade. "The Varga's went into hiding."

"You knew that would happen."

"I also knew they'd go to either Orlov or Astley." Kyzer eyed me, his green eyes, a perfect canvas of serenity when nothing about the news he had was good. It was just tittering between bad and worse. If they'd gone to Orlov in New York, it wouldn't be hard to find them, especially because Orlov was a low-life human-trafficker dedushka had gotten rid of a while ago, but he'd been doing better these past few years, and he certainly had motive against me, especially now that my relationship with Keira was known to everyone. "They chose Astley." I can't say I was surprised, the information they had was more useful if they gave it to someone who has wanted Keira and Kyzer dead for decades.

"That should make it easy for you to locate them," I arched my brow, genuinely concerned for what this meant. I couldn't ask another favor from my grandfather, especially when his favors came with a lot of stipulations, the result of one I was already living.

"Or harder. Astley has an idea about how I work," Kyzer drawled, his words weighted with something more than what he was initially letting on. I waited for him to speak about a plan he had for this situation because Kyzer was the kind of man who didn't just have a plan A or a B. He had plans for all twenty-six letters in the English language, so I was a little surprised to see him tongue-tied. "How trustworthy are the Italians?" Kyzer asked suddenly, his gaze far away.

"It depends." I narrowed my eyes at him, "Why?"

"I need to find a rat in the Outfit." I laughed at that, however it wasn't at the impossibility of the situation. Rats were quite often than not in the mafia. Humans had a tendency to switch loyalties when it suited them personally. Kyzer arched a brow, his gaze hollow trained on me for what I'd assume were answers.

"Your biggest problem isn't the Outfit right now. You need to find your remaining members and take care of them." Kyzer opened his mouth to argue, but I stopped him with a flick of my fingers, "Angelo won't talk about his debaucheries as Astley. One thing you can expect from Italians is their love for familial values. They won't appreciate what he did, so I don't think he's told anyone. Don't waste your time and resources on that just yet."

Kyzer traced his jaw with his finger, contemplating, before nodding and pushing off the wall he was leaning against. "I'll be in touch when I find a location." He turned to leave, "also, don't harm Keira."

"You left her in my care. Now it's none of your business." I seethed and stepped back inside the warmth of my office, my heart beating abnormally fast inside my chest.

I wanted to get Keira out of my system, I needed to stop thinking about her. However, the barely restrained desire in my veins was making it impossible to act indifferent to her name. The tension buzzed inside me. Her lingering presence in these hallways was too enticing not to have my way with her.

There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted her body, drenched in sweat, marked with my cum as she'd beg for more. Even the visual was enough to elicit a visceral reaction from me. My cock hardened as I fisted my hands, reaching for another shot of alcohol to ease my tangled nerves. Feeling the unbridled need to do something with my hands that didn't involve Keira, I rushed to my room upstairs.

I still hadn't made my mind about what giving into this morbid desire would mean for me and Keira. If it'd encourage her hopeless optimism, but I had to remember, this wasn't about her. Nor would I give her any fickle thoughts any encouragements. Yet, I still needed to think this through. Everything that had happened between us since she came back had been impulsive, volatile, however, for the sake of my own sanity if I was going to take her again, I had to know where I stood with this.

Nothing between us was ever going to be delicate ever again, it was going to be full of maddened violence, sparkled with the electricity that always seemed to be there between us, and more consuming than an ocean full of rather brackish water.

And this time I was ready for her. Ready to ruin her for every last lie that left her lips. With my resolve strengthened for what I wanted, my feet moved in the direction of her room on their own.

We'd crashed when we'd loved. Maybe my true salvation lied in hatred.

* * *

K E I R A

I was mortified at what I'd asked of him that night, however, I didn't regret it per se. It allowed me a glance inside his fractured soul, and what I'd seen gave me some sense of hope, even if it might prove to be a futile endeavor anyway. I was beginning to resent how our past had played out, heck I think I'd even started harboring a little anger for Nikolai at his constant denial that he'd also lied. I didn't mind fighting for him, heck, I'd do that until I died, but I hated how he blamed me for everything. He might've been justified in his anger. I knew he was. Yet, he'd also hidden things from me, so why couldn't he just try to see where I was coming from.

His stubbornness was undoing me, and for the first time, I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. While I wanted to salvage my relationship, I was beginning to think there was nothing left but mayhem, and I didn't think I could survive this.

I sighed, returning my attention to the book I was reading on my phone. There wasn't much to do here, ever since the news of my marriage to Nikolai broke out, I hadn't been allowed to go out on my own. Even the thought made me scoff. I wasn't incapable of protecting myself, but Nikolai had made a good argument when he'd said that my skills were useless—even if I was a man—in case I was ambushed. Begrudgingly, I'd agreed, even though staying in the same place as him did more harm to my sanity than the thought of being in danger ever would.

If I was honest, I was a little tired of being the only one running after him. I knew it was my fault, but he hadn't shown me a single sign of his willingness to hear me out, nor had he given me any sign on if he still wanted me around. Tears pricked my eyes, but I'd already decided I wasn't going to cry on the past anymore. I couldn't change it, so now the only thing I could do was figure out how to get out of this grave I'd dug for myself, even if it was excruciating.

Maybe it was better if I let this naïve dream of getting the man I was in love with eight years ago. It might be better for my bruised soul if I stopped chasing the ghost of happiness. Yet the thought of giving up on him, and truly letting him go had my heart clenching inside my chest painfully and my stomach recoiling with hopelessness. Nikolai Chernov was toxic for me, the same way I was toxic for him, but even if we were poison, I still needed more of him. Not the ice he'd been giving me, I needed everything from him again. I'd let him kill me if that was what he wanted because death by his hand surpassed even the possibility of living without him.

Feeling conflicted, I closed the book I'd been staring at and threw my phone on the side of the bed. Exhaling, I eyed the back of the phone before swinging my feet off the bed and making my way across the room. I needed air, and stop this burning in my lungs. I'd barely opened my door when my head bumped into a mass of muscle. I looked up, only to be met with the startling greys of Nikolai's eyes that were cooler than wind in December, yet there was something darker roaming there, and for all my internal frustrations I wanted to know that darkness.

Nikolai's hand immediately went to my hair, the other one around my throat as my back arched against his chest. My insides fluttered with glittering monarchs as my palms turned clammy at my sides. It was almost like the first time I'd met him, but I knew better than to make anything out of this even though it went as far as a sign this new version of Nikolai would give me. Feeling him so close to me, barely a heartbeat away, turned my brain into a mess, any reluctant thoughts I might've had about this were a faraway fable inside my head when Nikolai had my skin prickling with the awareness of his gaze.

"What are you doing?" I barely forced myself out of the trance, whispering my words out, my voice gruffer than I'd like.

"I have a proposition for you." Nikolai breathed out, and for the first time since I'd seen him after eight years, I saw something more than hatred in his heated gaze for me, even if it was something as fickle as lust. I swallowed, waiting for him to finish what he had to say, "I want to fuck you, mark you, own you." Every word of his lit my soul on fire, my pussy clenched at his words, "but I won't let you fuck up my head anymore."

"So you just want to fuck me out of your system." His eyes flicked to the hollow of my neck as he pressed his lips firmly against my flesh, his fist gripping my hair.

"No," he met my eyes, "I can't fuck you out of my system, but what I'll do is take you over and over again reminding you how much I hate you with my cock buried inside your tight, little cunt."

I gasped, his words causing a visceral reaction inside me, my thighs clenched as I felt my wetness pool between my legs. I should push him away, but he was like a curse, inevitable, it's magic too alluring, too evil that even if it'd lead you to death, you would follow willingly.

"So are you going to take it?" He rasped, palming my core through my dress, groaning when a soft whimper escaped my lips, he took my earlobe between his teeth, then whispered, "though with the way your needy cunt is soaking my hand, I'd think your answer is yes, but I need to hear you say it."

It took a while for his words to break through the hazy fog inside my head, and his words did nothing to deter me. I'd have him in any way he'd let me, but the only reason I was a little reluctant was that I didn't know if my heart would survive him for the second time.

* * *

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