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She tried to make it sound like something fun that every woman would be thrilled to do, dressing up for my pakhan. But my life isn’t a game. Not when it’s being controlled by people who are in the business of murder.
So, I’m determined to spite Nikolai and chose a bright red evening dress with a deep, plunging neckline that leaves nothing to the imagination. The color clashes with my hair, but I don’t care. I swirl in front of the triple mirrors on the closet wall. I look like a she-devil sent to torture him. I stop moving around and frown at my reflection. It looks more like a Halloween costume than an avenging dark angel.
Nikolai has made it clear that we’re to take meals together. It’s his way of checking on me and not delegating it like last time. So, when he returns home from trying to murder people, we sit down together in his office for a meal. I flush every time I see the desk and think of all the things I said to Nikolai, squirmingunderneath him while his body drove me mad. Ashamed that I acted that way, I stare at my plate.
I behaved like a slut for Nikolai, and in return, he ordered my dad’s murder.
The staff made lasagna in a white sauce, a ploy to make me clean my plate. All this week, I’ve been served upscale versions of my favorite foods. I wondered why Dominika quizzed me and made a list. And I’m thankful Nikolai doesn’t have time to eat breakfast with me.
Most days, he’s gone by the time I’m done hugging the toilet.
I can keep my food down in the evenings easily, but tonight, I have no appetite. I try not to look at Nikolai, but my gaze strays onto him. Why is he doing this? Why is he making me spend time with him?
He barely speaks to me. Every once in a while, he looks over with his poisonous green glare as if he hates me the most out of everybody. Hates me for what? I should be the one hating him, and I have a damn good reason.
“Is it not to your liking?” He glares at the food pushed around my plate.
I screw up my mouth. “It’s fine. Any bombings today?”
Nikolai places his fork down, and his gaze narrows on me. “That’s not something to joke about, Eden.”
“I’m not joking,” I reply, smoothly touching my napkin to my lips. “I’m taking an interest in what you do. Especially since it impacts my life.”
For a second, Nikolai frowns, and then he smiles. That wicked smile that melts my insides whenever he aims it at me.
“Whatever happens to me will have a direct impact on you,” he reasons. “Keep that in mind when you’re plotting and scheming up in your bedroom.”
I narrow my eyes and hope my gaze stabs into his heart like his stabs into mine. “I thought I cared when I could still reason with you,” I tell him. “When I thought you had some humanity. Don’t blame the Bratva for you being a piece of shit, Nikolai. It’s all you—rotten from head to toe.”
Nikolai leaps to his feet, sending his chair backward, and it crashes to the floor with an earsplitting whack. I sit still as he moves quickly toward me. He stands by my chair, and I hear his breath coming hard and fast. The drawer pulls out, and wincing, I squeeze my eyes shut.
Is he going to shoot me? Maybe that’s the best way for this nightmare to end.
I wait, but nothing happens. Slowly, I open my eyes, and the photo of Nikolai and his family rests where my plate had been. I stare at his stunning mother holding her children to her side, Larissa fawning over Nikolai on his mother’s lap, and Matvei’s hand protectively resting on his mother’s shoulder.
I swallow hard, mourning things I’ve lost and things I’ll never have.
“The Bratva is the only family I have left,” he says, fighting to keep his voice even. “I have to protect it, even if you hate the fact that I do.”
I pick up the picture. “Then why can’t you understand that I must do the same?”
The softness in Nikolai’s gaze is a rare sight, and the glimpse of empathy makes me tremble. Nikolai reaches for me and lifts me out of the chair. His breath is only on my lips for a second before his mouth takes mine. The heat builds between us as fast as my need for him, reminding me how much I still want Nikolai.But I can’t.I repeat it over and over again as his mouth presses harder on mine. With a deep sigh, my lips part, and his tongue sweeps my mouth, leaving goose bumps on my flesh. He is a monster of blind hatred and insane revenge, but I still want him. I fidget against Nikolai—my lower body presses against his strong hips. But I can’t, not after what I said to him. I meant it all. I can’t give in to a man who only wants to use me … and kill my father.
I push Nikolai away with all my strength and lean against the chair’s high back as I catch my breath. I look into his eyes and make a statement. Using the back of my arm, I wipe him off my mouth. It’s childish, but I don’t have guns or knives to hurt Nikolai. I have nothing but vicious actions and cruel words.
“You can’t make me want you,” I whisper. “You can’t bribe me with false promises of love.”
His eyes widen as I hit a nerve, and Nikolai takes a step back. For a moment, he seems lost as he looks around the room, as if searching for something or someone to reassure him.
Then he snatches the photo from my hand and returns it to the drawer. He shakes his head slowly, as if struggling to form a thought. “Eden, I don’t mean …”
My defenses slip, and hope fills me. Have I reached him? “Don’t mean what?” I ask.
But there’s a loud knock on the door before Nikolai can tell me, and Gunsyn strolls into the room.
63
NIKOLAI
