AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was one of the ten, which meant he’d qualified into the club of the most fierce and feared hitmen within a five-state radius. He’d boasted to her more than once that five states weren’t nearly enough, that she should think of him as one of the five most deadly assassins in the entire world. She’d believed him, for a time, but had slowly come to see how much of anything he said was hyperbole. He was a liar. But he was the sort of liar who carried a knife with him at all times and knew how to use it.
He was also working for the Kutznetovas, so the fact that he’d breezed past the guards stationed at even intervals all around the property was astonishing. He was good, but was he that good? Her blood was running cold at the possible explanations for why he had come to see her, especially now, on her bonding day.
“I was invited,” he smiled gently as if wanting to put her at ease.
“Who invited you?” she asked, taken aback.
“Your future mate,” he stated, watching her expression fall with clear satisfaction.
She straightened her back, putting on the bravest face she could, raising her chin to him. He noticed her change in attitude, the soft challenge there, and his gaze grew cold. The same way it had when she broke it off between them a few years back, their brief fling barely counting for a relationship. The way he’d grabbed her arm, tried to convince her, plead with her, finally berated her into staying had been all the confirmation she’d needed that she wanted nothing more to do with him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, keeping the tremor out of her voice, but just barely.
“I told you, I was invited.”
“What are you doing in mybedroom,” she clarified, tone sharp enough to cut glass. “You sure as hell weren’t invited in here.”
She wanted him to leave, but telling him or asking him to remove himself would be like rolling onto her back with an invitation for him to step all over her wishes. He was good at that. Reading people’s weaknesses and slowly using them against whoever he was manipulating. She’d learned that first-hand. He’d almost succeeded in making her doubt herself to the point of losing herself in him, but then she’d met Maury, and he’d helped her turn everything back around again. He’d given her a reason to right her keel, to refocus on what truly mattered to her, and Nikolai’s spell had been broken.
“Don’t swear,” Nikolai said, tutting gently.
He had a new tattoo on the side of his neck, revealed when he tilted his head to shake it remonstratively.
“So, you’ve made captain,” she commented at the sight of it.
All the hitmen had their ranks displayed in this way. Dragon scales, tattooed behind their right ear. Each new scale added meaning to ascension in rank. Nikolai now boasted five of them.
He smiled then, stirring things she didn’t want to feel. She’d cared for him once, had believed he cared for her, but she had been nothing more than a way for him to advance within the organization of the family he served. He had been tied to Vasili Kuznetsov since he was old enough to write his own name in the books. And the ruling head of one of the three families would have been sure to see worth in one of his own bonding himself to such a full-fledged Aslanov. Blood ties were the most powerful currency of all, and Nikolai had always obsessed over that fact.
He'd used her.
The glimmer of emotion died at the reminder.
He was dangerous. Even now, when he should be powerless in a place where he would not find easy welcome, he’d found a way to approach her. And if he knew Zeke, there was no telling what ways he might find to entangle himself in her life.
“What do you want, Nikolai?” she asked.
“I wanted to compliment you in person for making a good choice of mate,” he said.
His tone let her know he knew exactly what manner of the choice she’d been given.
“You think I would’ve been better off with you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
His face went blank. Before she could back away from him, he was on her, grabbing her upper arms in a grip so tight it made her press her hands, flattened against his chest, grasp at the fabric of his shirt in fistfuls.
“You’re hurting me,” she gritted out.
“Am I? I’m sorry,” he said, the dead expression in his gaze making the blue of his irises look grey. “Should I let go?”
“Fuck you, Nik.”
“Hmh,” he said. “As I recall, there was none of that for all those months we dated. Was there? You were saving yourself for…” His eyebrows rose high. “The night of your bonding ceremony. Have you stayed a virgin for Zeke? Hmh? You know what, never mind. It’s not important.” His hold on her impossibly hardened, her bones creaking, her skin bruising. “Now,” he instructed. “Say please.”
Her insides were quivering with old fears that she’d thought she’d put to rest years ago. Fears of him finding her alone, cornering her, pressing that blade he always carried with him to her throat. Even without the knife, her knees were growing weak, tears burning in her eyes despite her simmering fury at him doing this to her in her own home. It was a message; she knew that much about how the hitmen of the families worked. The fact that he had made his way into space as sacred as her own bedroom was meant to signal to her how he could make his way into any space, at any time, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
She ground her teeth, relenting, as she got out a strangled, “Please.”
He smirked, releasing her.
