Nikolai: The Complete Collection

15. Nikolai

15

NIKOLAI

M y steps into Justine’s guest bedroom slow when I detect I am being watched. I’m used to being eyed, men want to be me, women want to be bedded by me, but this stare is different. It’s pronged with admiration, but it has no infatuation attached to it—thank fuck. That would have been awkward considering the watchful gaze is coming from my sister.

Lia acts unaffected by the blood-splattered clothes and boots dumped at the end of my bed. She’s accustomed to the gore associated with our childhood. Sometimes, she was even the perpetrator of it.

With my exchange with Sergei still in the forefront of my mind, Officer Prentice’s death was swift and unpleasurable. The stab wound I inflicted to his chest bled more than I anticipated, but that had more to do with the fact Justine’s letter opener wasn’t as sharp as I’d hoped.

Don’t get me wrong, it got the job done, but my knife usually leaves my face blood-free. Since that didn’t occur this time around, I had no choice but to shower for the second time before midday.

I finish drying droplets of water on my chest before dumping my towel onto the bed housing Lia’s backside. “Where’s Maya?”

Lia twists the top half of her body to face the wall, granting me the privacy to tug on a pair of boxers and jeans while she says, “Trey is taking her back to the compound. She’s a little shaken up, the poor thing.” She’d seem more sincere if she weren’t picking at the varnish on her nails. “I really wish she would have accepted your offer to move her out of the compound. She’ll never have a life if she remains under Vladimir’s reign.”

I jerk up my chin, agreeing with her. “She would have given it more thought if it weren’t for her mother. She’s still under Vladimir’s spell.”

I inwardly laugh at Lia’s gag. Even with her sharing Vladimir’s DNA, she loathes him almost as much as me. I’m not surprised. Our mother continually placed Vladimir before us when we were children.

Lia is four years older than me and was despised by our mother on sight because she was born without the required equipment between her legs needed for her to become the next heir of the Popov entity. That honor went to Rico, who was born three weeks after Lia.

“You can’t fix stupid.” After checking the coast is clear with a quick glance my way, Lia pivots back around to face me. “Did he cry actual tears?” She clasps her hands together like she’s watching a sappy movie. “I bet he did. The cry-for-my-momma vibes were pumping out of him when you grabbed him unaware.”

I arch a brow in suspicion. “You watched me serve Prentice his punishment?”

“Of course.” A hint of her husband’s English heritage highlights her tone when she attempts to act innocent. I say ‘attempt’ as it isn’t a look Lia can pull off without an immense amount of acting. “Adrian said a direct hit to the precordium almost always results in death, but he won’t let me put his theory into practice.” She sighs like she’s annoyed her husband saddled her down with responsibility and kids, where, in reality, she adores him. “Talking about theories, I better get back on deck before the next shipment comes in. Adrian’s men still believe compromises begin with words. Us Popovs know busted kneecaps work much better.”

She stops gathering her purse from a set of drawers on her right when I say, “I promoted Adrian to head of operations at Knightsbridge.” Her eyes dart between mine, but she’s too stunned to speak. It’s for the best as my terms aren’t up for negotiation. “We need someone with his skillset while endeavoring to overtake Davies’s operations on that side of the continent.”

She doesn’t buy the lie I am selling as she knows this has nothing to do with business. “You said a move was years away, Nikolai. That you’d give us plenty of notice.”

“Things change?—”

“Not in a weekend. Jesus.” Nothing but unbridled panic is heard in her tone, aware that this is more than a wish to coerce my attorney into my bed. This goes way deeper than that. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Nodding, I brush the back of my index finger across her cheek to wipe away a blob of moisture balled there. She is as surprised by her tears as I am by my chivalry. Kindness was not a trait our mother instilled in us.

After clearing her cheeks of moisture, she steps closer to me, her eyes begging. “Let us stay. Let us help your campaign.”

“No, Lia. We discussed this. Adrian and you were to move back to the UK before I commenced my bid for Vladimir’s throne.” As images of her punishment the last time she sided with me over Vladimir flash before my eyes, I step back, placing distance between us. We’re not overly close, but I still don’t want to see her hurt. “If you won’t do this for Adrian, do it for your girls.”

It’s low of me to bring her daughters into this, but I know they’re the only things needed for her to agree to my request. Lia is all about blood and gore until her eyes lock on her twin girls. They are three years old, yet they’ve never met their grandfather. Lia would fall onto a knife before she’d ever introduce her daughters to the monster from her nightmares.

“Fine. I’ll go. Adrian’s parents have been expecting us for months.” She wipes her wet cheeks again, straightens her spine, then locks the dark brown eyes she was gifted from her father with mine. “But if you don’t get the job done, I’ll come back and do it for you.”

When I dip my chin, she moves to a mirror tacked to the wall to check her face. Her knees are shaking so much she can barely walk, but she puts on a brave front. The last thing she’d ever want is for my crew to know she’s rattled. It took her years to gain their respect, and she won’t let it slip for anything.

While she clears away a minute sliver of mascara smeared under her eyes, I move to the cracked open door of Justine’s guest bedroom, stunned that the almost deafening buzz of my men has dulled to barely a murmur.

They still have the tits of my whores in their mouths and my drugs running through their veins, but their eyes are rapt on the same thing—Justine.

She’s also mine. My crew is just unaware of how far my fascination extends.

The same can’t be said for Lia. It only takes her noticing the narrowed squint Justine’s eyes get when she walks out of my room to know the real reason I’ve brought motions into play to take back what’s mine years earlier than predicted.

“Is that her?” When I nod, Lia’s smile heats my cheek. “I see in her eyes what Rico saw in yours. She’s not lost. She just needs to learn not all crowns are made from rhinestones and gems… some are from determination and courage.”

I nod again, agreeing with her. “I can see the fire in her eyes. She just needs someone to relight it.”

I realize I said my comment out loud when Lia says, “You can do that for her, Nikolai. You did it years ago, and you can do it again, except this time, you’ll get more than the admiration of your big sister for your efforts.”

When I roll my eyes, Lia’s breathy chuckle fans my neck. She knows she is treading water in a shark-infested ocean, but since she’s also aware Adrian will have her bags packed before she’s returned home, she is willing to test the waters.

“Call me if you need anything.”

She waits for me to jerk up my chin before planting a goodbye kiss onto my cheek. Her lips barely touch my skin, but her contact is enough to burn jealousy through Justine’s veins. She watches us from across the room, the bags of groceries held close to her chest, incapable of hiding the frantic thrust of her lungs.

Jealousy has never looked so good.

After watching Lia’s trek out her front door, Justine returns her eyes to mine. I could act ignorant to the possessiveness flaring through her unique colored eyes. I could pretend the same annoyance isn’t knocking at my chest from my men eyeing her like she’s a feast they’re about to gorge on, but since this is as new to her as it is me, I slant my head and arch a brow, placing the ball back into Justine’s court.

When she returns my serve with a dramatic exit, I attempt to follow her. I barely make it one foot when the woman I see in her eyes stops my feet as quickly she does my heart. Her scorned stare is wicked and proves what I’ve always known. Only a woman worthy of a throne can switch from being numbed by jealousy to a straight-up gangster in under a second.

My focus shifts from the swinging kitchen door to Roman when he stops at my side. His brows are dotted with sweat, and his sleeves are rolled-up to his elbows. With his suit jacket nowhere to be seen, I’m going to assume he got blood on it while moving Officer Prentice’s body from the alleyway of Justine’s building to his final resting place.

“Everything good?”

Roman jerks up his chin. “He won’t be found any time soon.”

“And the surveillance we uncovered?”

He tilts closer to me to ensure we don’t have any unwanted ears listening to our private conversation. “Trey is placing it into the right hands. If the rumblings are anything to go by, his colleagues will consider his quick death merciful.”

My jaw tics. I hate that his death was quick and unsatisfying, but Viktor had advised he was en route with Justine, so I didn’t have much choice. I doubt jealousy would have heated Justine’s cheeks if she knew I had murdered a man for her.

Some of my annoyance slips away when Roman discloses why the men who worked alongside Officer Prentice won’t mourn his death. “One of the girls on the tape was Bill Hammond’s niece. She wasn’t a prostitute. She merely took a shortcut down an alleyway on the way home.”

A grin tugs on my lips. I’m not happy Detective Hammond’s niece was assaulted, but it feels good knowing one less rapist is on the streets.

My smile slackens when Roman hands me a sheet of paper. “What’s this?”

He keeps his eyes front and center. His face gives nothing away. “You asked for additional information on Maddox’s arrest. With his criminal record doctored to the point of being worthless, I dug a little deeper.” He drops his knowledgeable eyes to the sheet of paper I’m grasping. “This isn’t exactly what you were after, but I figured you’d be interested in what I uncovered. There could be rules in play here we were unaware of.”

Through fettered brows, I take in the document he handed me. It’s a grainy photograph. However, no amount of pixilation can hide Justine’s alluring features. She appears a few years younger than she is now, and her shoulders aren’t weighed down with burden. She’s standing across from a man with eyes as icy as mine and blood tainted with just as much evil.

“Is this it? A shared umbrella on a rainy afternoon?”

The chances of me ignoring my tightening jaw fly out the window when Roman shakes his head. “No. There were a handful of dates. Dimitri seemed to have quite the fascination with her.”

I work my jaw side to side to loosen up my next set of words. “How long ago?”

“A couple of years.”

With Roman not getting to the point as quickly as I like, I force him there. “Around the time of Justine’s hospitalization?”

He waits a beat, unsure how to confirm my suspicions without sending me into a rage. “It appears as if they were on a date the night of her admission.”

Air whizzes out of my nostrils as I suck in deep breaths, endeavoring to cool the fire incinerating my veins. “He hurt her.”

I’m not asking a question—I’m stating a fact.

Well, so I thought.

“No. From the intel I’ve gathered, Dimitri isn’t at fault here.”

“She was hurt under his watch, Roman. How is this not his fault?”

He peers at me with pleading eyes, imploring for me to calm down. “I’m not saying his conscious is clear, but there’s more to this than either of us know, so jumping to conclusions won’t help anyone.” He shifts on his feet to face me. The worry on his face is the same as it was when he unshackled me from my torture chamber thirteen years ago. “You’ve only just met this girl, Nikolai. Are you sure the benefits will exceed the repercussions?”

“Yes,” I answer without pause for thought, speaking truthfully for the first time in years.

I can’t explain my immediate desire to protect Justine any more than I can deny it. She riveted me from the moment I saw her, and the more I unearth about her, the more captive I become. Her scars, the fight in her eyes, and the way she should be scared but isn’t are as appealing as her angelic face and cock-thickening body.

When I look at her, I remember a young, na?ve teen who tried to do the right thing and was chastised for it in the most unimaginable way. We’ve endured the same torment. She just chose good over evil. I picked whichever team guaranteed I’d live.

For years, I believed that was siding with the devil.

Now, I’m not so sure.

My life isn’t any better than Justine’s.

I just pretend it is.

Unease highlights my tone when I say, “I need more information. Times. Dates. If Dimitri’s fascination is still current.”

Roman nods, acknowledging he understands my request without me needing to spell it out for him. I need to know if Justine is in debt to the Petrettis.

“I’ll do that while you catch up on some sleep.”

I shoot Roman a wry look. Sleep is the last thing on my mind.

He tries to act unaffected by my scorn. He’d have a better chance of me believing him if his Adam’s apple weren’t bobbing up and down in rapid concession. “You either sleep while the devil is appeased or later when he’s walking the gallows. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather the former.”

He has a point—regrettably.

Upon seeing the acknowledgment in my eyes, he tosses my dismantled ankle bracelet into my chest before making his way to the living room. I stop him before he gets two steps away from me. “Make sure Justine is aware she either stays in the kitchen or her room until I awake and ensure the men know those domains are off-limits.” Roman smiles like the hard-ass warden he is, more than eager to hand out my rulings. “Ensure they understand the order is coming directly from me. I don’t want them messing with Justine. If they mess with her, they mess with me.”

I trust my men, but there’s a churning in my gut that won’t quit—even more so after what Roman exposed. If the Petrettis consider Justine their property, my fight just took on an entirely new meaning.

It doesn’t mean I’ll back down, though. Good soldiers fight for the system. Bad soldiers fight for themselves.

Can you guess which team I belong in?