The Monster (Steamy Shorts #13)

Chapter 3

3

NINA

E leanor, Jade, and Mia huddle by one of the tables, their cheeks pink, eyes glassy. Each of them has a wine goblet, and Mia doubles over, spilling her drink to the floor. That only makes her laugh harder.

My eyes dart between them and Nikolai, who stands by the doorway with one of his brothers. He must sense me staring because he turns to me and gives me a tip of his head.

“Look at the blushing bride, girls. She looks like someone on her way to the slaughterhouse,” Eleanor teases, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “I can’t blame the poor girl. She did marry a monster.”

Jade snorts. “Serves you right, Nina. You always thought you were better than us just because you were smarter. Now look where you are. At the mercy of a Petrov.”

Mia fills her glass again and gives me a sly grin. “I’ll call you in the morning, sis. You know, just to check if you’re still alive or if he’s already made a new coat from your skin.”

They exchange amused glances, not even bothering to hide their delight in the whole situation. Ever since Father told me about my wedding, they never stopped sending me messages about Nikolai—what he did to the poor barista who stole from his bar, what he took from the family who didn’t pay their monthly dues, what he sliced off from the guard who slept while on duty.

Taunting is like a sport to them. They feed off my misery. Over time, I learned not to rise to their baits. They like it when I fight back because it gives them another reason to be extra vicious.

“You know, now that I think about it, they’re quite a match.” Eleanor nods conspiratorially to the others. “He’s a monster; she’s a doormat. What a pair they would be.”

Mia rolls her eyes and tips the glass to her lips. “Oh, poor Nina. Smart, soft-spoken Nina. Soon-to-be-doctor Nina.”

Every single word they say is a needle pricking at me. The fear I felt when I first glimpsed Nikolai comes roaring back. When we leave this party, it’s going to be just him and me.

I know he promised he wouldn’t ever force himself on me, but I’ve learned not to give too much stock to what people say. I’ve learned to judge them by their actions, and Nikolai is still, for all intents and purposes, a total stranger.

In a few years, if all goes according to plan, I see myself as an emergency medicine doctor. It’s one of those professions that requires absolute mental composure—staying calm, rational, and focused in stressful circumstances.

Yet, here I am, on the verge of panicking AGAIN.

I only need to go home with Nikolai. That’s it. But like what Eleanor said, I might as well be on my way to the slaughterhouse.

My mind shuffles through different scenarios, and I become so preoccupied with them that I fail to notice Nikolai until he’s standing beside me, touching my arm. “Let’s go, Nina.”

Why is it that when he’s not beside me, I think too much to the point where I’m triggering my own panic attack, but when he’s near, my thoughts go quiet?

To think he’s the main cause of my distress.

Behind me, I hear my sisters snicker, but I pay them no mind. I loop my arm through Nikolai’s and leave with as much dignity as I can muster, even though every single guest knows this is nothing more than a business transaction for both parties.

A weird sensation settles in my gut. In this room full of predators and opportunists, the one I will gravitate to if shit goes sideways is Nikolai. I met him just over two hours ago, but I will choose him over my own family. I know, deep down, the safest place is with him.

Yes, he’s a monster, and yes, he probably did most of those things I heard him do. Then again, it’s not like Father doesn’t have blood on his hands either. In our world, it’s kill or be killed.

Nikolai just happens to be the alpha predator.

We head to his vehicle, and while I expect him to let me figure out how to climb the truck in my heels, he surprises me yet again when he lifts me in his arms and deposits me on the seat as though I weigh nothing. He doesn’t do so much as grunt.

As my seatbelt clicks into place, I cast a sidelong glance at Nikolai. He’s looking straight ahead, and in this view, I can see his nose was once broken. A few days of stubble darkens his jaw, and a muscle ticks as he clenches it.

The truck’s interior is quiet, except for the low hum of the engine and the soft rustle of the air conditioning, as he drives away. The space between us feels dense and charged, and the tension is palpable—a thick fog of something I can’t identify.

“I meant what I said back there, Nina.” Nikolai’s voice almost makes me jump in my seat, but he keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. “The last person you need to fear is me. That assurance isn’t enough, I know, especially given all the stories everyone probably fed you, but in the next few days, you’ll realize I’m a man of my word.”

Before she died five years ago, Mom said I had a good pulse on people, and I needed to listen to it. My gut instinct will tell me who to avoid, what to believe, and when to run away. So far, my gut hasn’t failed me yet. Hopefully, now won’t be the first time.

It’s just words, but I’m already half-convinced Nikolai is telling the truth. “I know.”

“No, you don’t. Not yet, but you will.”

We’re on the outskirts of the city, and the darkness is broken only by the occasional street light flickering past. My gaze drifts to the window, and I watch his faint reflection. He’s ruggedly handsome in an unconventional way. He cuts a sharp profile, for sure.

Feeling a sudden urge to talk, I shift in my seat, leaning my back against the window so I’m half-facing him. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

His huge hands are clenched tightly around the steering wheel. I expect him to say no, say something to put me in my place, and continue driving. Instead, the corners of his lips lift slightly. “Are you going to use that against me one day?”

This is a side of him I did not imagine, and it eases the knot in my stomach. “Maybe.”

His eyebrows lift. “Honesty. That’s good. There’s not enough of that to go around.”

“No deflecting my question.”

The fleeting, almost imperceptible expression of amusement is there again, and he uses one hand to scrub across his jaw—a gesture I find … sexy. “You know how I got my scar?”

I shift in my seat again, a bit uncomfortable with his chosen topic, as I rack my brain. “Kidnappers, I think. They wanted to send a message to your father.”

“Not really. They wanted me to cry. Since I refused, they said they’d help me smile instead.” He heaves a sigh. “It hurt like a motherfucker. I was sure they slashed my whole mouth.”

My stomach churns, and a cold sweat breaks across my forehead despite the air conditioner. “Oh God.”

He looks apologetic as he says, “You wanted to know something no one else did.”

“No one else knows that?”

“My family did. The thing no one knew was that the night I came back home, I spent five hours curled on my bed, crying like a baby. I was seventeen at the time, and I wanted to die.”

“God, I’m sorry, Nikolai.”

He waves a hand as if he didn’t just reveal the most gut-wrenching story I’ve heard. “Believe the stories, Nina. I am a monster, but I protect what’s mine … even if it’s from myself.”

By the time we arrive in his mansion, I’m too distraught to notice the interiors, walking like a zombie to the hallway until Nikolai touches my elbow and points to the door in front of me. “This is your bedroom, Nina. The one across is mine. Sleep easy. No one will enter your room except for your personal maid, Elsa, whom you’ll meet in the morning.”

I stare at this massive hulk of a man and picture the scared boy. He’s forever reminded of that moment. Each time he runs a hand across the scarred skin, each time he watches himself in the mirror.

I cannot compare what I’ve been through to his, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand what it’s like to mourn the person you’ll never become.

Without thinking, I close the distance between us and rest a palm on his left cheek, right over the scar. He flinches but continues to stand still. “May all those who hurt you burn in hell, Nikolai.”

That earns me another small smile. “They already did, little wife.” He rests his hand over mine and leans against it, his stubble prickly against my skin.

Something ripples over his expression, his gaze holding mine, the air crackling between us. The ticking of the grandfather clock behind me seems to amplify the silence between us.

The muscles in his neck visibly tighten, and both our breathing grows faster, my heart racing, my core clenching. We’re waiting for the other to do something.

But…

The clock lets out a deep, resonant chime, cutting through the mounting tension between us. I start at the sound, and it breaks whatever spell we are under.

Nikolai snaps his eyes shut, dropping my hand and taking a deep breath. “Goodnight, little wife.”

Without another word, he spins on his heel, walks to his bedroom, and closes the door behind him, leaving me standing in the hallway, my hand still tingling. The longing is like a physical blow, throwing me for a loop.

All my plans of distancing from him evaporate. The relief I felt when he said he wouldn’t fuck me tonight is replaced by disappointment.

God, it’s driving me crazy. Maybe I just need to sleep this off. Maybe in the morning, I wouldn’t be as needy.

I can hope.