N I K O L A I

Moscow, Russia

I was driving with Ivan, glad that Alexei was in the other one with Irina, the fucker had messed up with my necktie, and now I was stuck wearing the one Keira gave me. She used to like it when I wore grey, I was never fond of the color; I wouldn't even own anything in this shade if it wasn't for her. But I did, and Alexei's fuck up with the mask had been the reason I had to switch to this necktie. I fought the urge to loosen its grip around my neck as memories suffocated me, and for the first time, I was tired. She was a ghost, always there, but never real enough for me to feel her warmth or sneak a kiss like I used to. She surrounded me like a vice, a habit I couldn't even hide in the darkness that was now my life, and I just needed her gone. Wanted her to stop haunting me.

Misery was the venom in my veins, killing me slowly, but I'd stopped feeling pain long ago, now all I wanted was to silence the void inside me, and be free of her memory, even if I wanted to kill myself for the thought of forgetting her.

"You okay?" Ivan's voice broke through the thick fog inside my head and I forced myself to relax before I turned my head towards him.

"Yes," I shifted in my seat, trying to keep my hand resting slackly on my thighs. "Where's my mask?" Ivan motioned at a box in the back, and I reached for it from my seat.

Securing my hand around the box, I straightened in my seat and got rid of the lid, sighing in relief when I noticed that it was a metallic silver wolf mask that'd cover nearly all of my face. I picked the mask up and secured it around my head just as the car came to a stop in front of Smirnov's mansion. Ivan lifted the locks, and I opened the door, stepping out on the tarmac. I noticed another Mercedes-Benz pull up behind mine, and straightened when Alexei got out, followed by Irina as he threw the keys towards the valet.

"Don't scratch my car, and you'll go home a rich man. I suppose I don't need to tell you what happens if you do..." He gave the valet a sinister grin as Irina linked her fingers with his, and they came up to me.

"Was that really necessary?" I motioned towards the guy Alexei had just subtly threatened as we started walking towards the double-doors leading inside the mansion.

"You know him, always a little extra," Irina slapped his shoulder playfully but stiffened when Smirnov turned our way, ready to welcome us. Her fear of strangers still dominated her actions around people she didn't know, but she'd slowly been getting better, and I couldn't be more proud.

I took his outstretched hand even if I was known for never shaking on it. It was his party, and I wouldn't cause a scene here even if he knew I could crush him like an insect.

"Smirnov," I nodded.

"Chernov," He responded, but leaned towards my ear, and whispered, "I've got a wide collection for you to choose from, my friend."

I suppressed the urge to blow his brains out, nodded at him one last time, and walked away with Alexei and Irina hot on my tail. Ivan was probably already looking for his next conquest. Alexei fell into step beside me, "Why didn't you put him in his place?"

"I wanted to be incognito tonight, I'd put him in his place before the night is over," I tilted my head, not bothering to hide my grin. Satisfied with my response, Alexei nodded, "Now go, enjoy the night with your wife. I'll get myself a drink."

"I'll just mingle with these self-entitled bastards, and see if The Pentagon shows up."

"You do that, make sure you don't point anyone my way, or say my name." Alexei nodded and turned away just as I made my way to the bar, and got seated. I didn't have to worry about him fucking up, he was well acquainted with our plan, and damn good at what we did.

I needed to gauge The Pentagon, try and get a whiff of their weaknesses, and play them to my advantage when the time was right. After all, I wouldn't be a king if I didn't know how the war would end before I even initiated it. I might've stopped playing the piano, but I'd mastered the art of cruelty, and debauchery. Playing bastards like myself was another one of my pastimes now. I had no intention to run from the darkness inside me, to fight the fade, I'd long given into my depraved tendencies, and surprisingly I was happy living the life of a villain. Fairy-tales were right about one thing, villains never got a happy ending, and mine was snatched from me in yet another game I still didn't know, but I would. The day I'd find the secret behind Keira's death, I'd burn the whole world to the ground if that was the last thing that'd lead me to her killers. I knew it was futile, wouldn't bring her back, but perhaps it was what I needed to extinguish the fire of vengeance inside me, and stop running in circles.

"What can I get you?" An overly shrilly female voice drew my attention, but it took me a little while to center my gaze on her features. She was wearing a white button-up, black vest and was surprisingly decent, unlike Smirnov's last party where the girls were scantily dressed in short, sheer shirts and lace bras. It wasn't that I minded, I couldn't give a fuck, but I preferred the women I used to not be related to any of the fuckers I did business with even if I'd just fuck them and leave.

Just as I finished ordering my rum, a soft hand snaked around my arm as another woman in emerald green took the stool beside mine. "Interesting choice of drink," She remarked, then placed her purse on the bar and ordered herself a whiskey. I took that time to look her up and down.

Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall in loose curls; it almost seemed like her silk dress was peppering her body in sensual kisses. Her legs were enticingly visible through the large slit at the side of the dress. She was beautiful, and quite forward from what I'd gathered.

After she finished ordering, she turned to me, her crimson lips turned into a coy smile. She was playing a game I made the rules of, and a game I always won. She leaned in, her palm tracing the fabric over my thigh, "You didn't answer my question," Her voice was raspy, and her eyes were the same shade of green I'd once fallen for. The deep emerald that was reviving, but dark with untold tales of darkness, like a forest floor.

I turned my head, facing her with a smirk of my own, "I didn't realize it was a question." I noticed her gaze linger on a man in the left corner of the room, and for a split-second hate took-over her expressionless gaze. She gave up a secret, now she was on my board, in my game, under my rule, and unless she was ready to let me rule, I'd ruin her.

"It could be," She struggled lightly, leaning closer, her hand on my thigh moved up, but I didn't stop her. I'd let her think I was oblivious to her charade, but now was the time to end it. I wanted this woman, and it was time for her to pay for thinking she could play me—use me—even if she didn't know who I was.

An illusionist.

A hunter, and a wolf.

"You're in the hunters' lair, little wolf, if I were you I'd play more discreetly," I pushed her chin up to meet my eyes with two of my fingers, and she held it, showing no sign of fear.

"Who says I'm playing?" She breathed out, the motion of her lips had my pants tightening, but I held back.

"You are. You see I smell debauchery," I used the fingers of my free hand to trail up her naked leg, holding my groan when I noticed goose-bumps break on her skin, and brought our faces even closer "And your little façade wasn't good enough. One masquerade is enough for one night, don't you think?" She wasn't like the others, while there was realization in her eyes, there was no sign of fear, to my surprise, her pupils were dilated as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. I wasn't sure if it was to unarm me, or if I should trust her body language for what it was. Lust. Pure, raw animalistic need. Perhaps, it was my own desire reflecting in her eyes, but she hadn't fought my fingers under her chin, my closeness, or my fingertips brushing the skin of her naked leg.

I noticed the other man in my peripheral vision turn away, and she relaxed, leaning into my touch, "Who says one masquerade has to be enough?" She palmed my dick through my pants, and I straightened, staring at her with narrowed eyes. "There can be as much chaos as we want there to be,"

"Don't start something you have no intention of finishing," I growled lowly and reached to remove her hand from my crouch, but she only tightened her grip, her fingernails digging in the fabric. I was fighting the urge to fuck her right here, but I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, not when The Pentagon was still here. Not when there were intruders in my game, bidding their time, and I would never turn my back on them just to show them my murderous hands still could bring a woman to the peaks of ecstasy, which couldn't be said about most of these motherfuckers.

She reached forward, and ran her tongue over the side of my face, then whispered in my ear, "I never leave things unfinished," She lowered her lips from my ear and hovered above my lips.

In the last eight years I'd never felt the urge to kiss someone, but with this woman, the siren in green, I didn't think before I crashed my lips against hers. I wouldn't kid myself into thinking I felt something more than lust at the moment, but I broke a rule of mine, so this was the one time I'd indulge in her, but then she'd be forgotten. Once, and then forgotten like it never happened, after all, it always was a second dance that started the curse of obsession and blew everything out of proportion. My heart wasn't big enough for two people, and the memories of one were more than enough. I let myself pretend the green eyes looking back at me with the same desire in them were my dead wife's. The hair was too golden, Keira's used to be platinum blonde. My kiss had turned harsh because she was there in my head again. I couldn't say I remembered her, I never forgot about her, Keira was always there, in the back of mind. It fucking hurt, but the burn was too good to pass up.

The woman I was kissing brought her hands around my neck just as I tilted my head, and bit her lower lip, swallowing her gasp when I entered my tongue inside her. She didn't fight me but didn't submit either. I explored her, my hands moved closer to her heat on her inner thigh, but I didn't want to give Smirnov the satisfaction of finding someone at one of his parties, so I pulled back, and got up, yanking her up with me.

Her head collided with my shoulder, and she looked up at me, her long eyelashes framing her face. I didn't know her name, and it was for the best. I was a hunter. If I knew anything about her, I would hunt her, and it wouldn't end well for either of us. I placed a hand on her lower back, and pulled her even closer, then leaned down and said lowly so a passer-by wouldn't hear me, "I'll be very honest here. I want to fuck you, but that's all there's to it. I'll make you scream, but I don't give a fuck about pleasantries, no foreplay, not anything else, and certainly not your name."

She curled her fingers around my tie, tugging at it, eyes holding my gaze with a guarded expression, the frustration in them evident, but was it at my lack of expression, or discomfort, I didn't know,  nor did I care enough to wonder, "I don't care about your name, or anything else, and I don't want you to remove your mask while you fuck me."

"Good," I said lowly just as my grip on her hip tightened, but then I dropped my hand, holding her wrist instead, as I shuffled through the rooms in this large mansion for an unlocked empty one to fuck her.

"Where—?" She began just as I opened the door and pushed her inside with me. I locked the door and held her against the dark wooden door, my finger on her lips.

I dropped my finger, and traced her lip with my thumb, smudging her already fucked lipstick. "Unless you want to tell me to stop, I suggest you don't talk, little wolf." The minx smiled, then opened her mouth and ran her tongue my thumb. She held my gaze, and I knew what she was doing, but I wasn't in the mood for foreplay. I wanted to fuck her, then leave, all before midnight. She didn't want to see the face behind the mask, and I had no plans to remove my mask here with so many people present. I didn't want The Pentagon to see me today, and my absence at midnight would be all the insult Smirnov needed. Payback for his audacity to reach for my hand when he shouldn't have.

Anonymity suited me just fine. It was fucking dandy. A woman after my own mind, but I wouldn't tell her that. There was no need to get to know each other after all.

I pushed her legs apart with my knee, trailing my fingertips over the column of her neck as I ran my other hand up her leg towards her pussy. She rocked forward when my fingers brushed against the fabric, and I pushed her back towards the door, my fingers curled around her throat as I smirked realizing that she was drenched. For a second I contemplated choking her for looking too much like Keira, it was unfair that she was too much like her, it reignited the smoldering ashes of my dead heart, the burn traveling throughout my body like the notes of music, a dreadful melody that only haunted with its ownership. I might've mistaken her for Keira if I didn't know that she was dead. Suddenly overwhelmed, I ignored her whimpers and pulled away.

No intimacy. I had to remember that rule tonight, even if I'd broken too many already. Even if she looked like a replica of Keira. It nearly felt like the motherfucking fate I hated sent her to be my reckoning. That couldn't happen, I'd fuck her, laugh in fate's face, and move the fuck on. No more small talk. "Take off your panties," 

♤ ♡ ◇ ♧

Nikolai does things to my heart!! 

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