The Monster (Steamy Shorts #13)

Chapter 5

5

NINA

T he first rays of early morning sunlight slip through the sheer curtains, and my eyes flutter open. For a moment, I linger in that calm, hazy space between dreams and reality, but when the disorientation clears, I sit up in bed and groan.

Father sent three suitcases of my clothes before we came home last night, and everything else—shower, skincare, and hours of tossing and turning before succumbing to sleep—was a blur.

I shower and brush my teeth, still in the process of taking in how grand this bedroom is. It’s at least three times the size of my old bedroom, with high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall, two deep armchairs around a wooden coffee table to one side, and the walls painted a warm ivory color.

I sit on the oversized bed in a silk robe, sweeping my gaze and smiling. I won’t miss my old bedroom. This is infinitely better.

A soft knock on the door momentarily startles me. Is it him? Is it Nikolai? If so, what would he think of me in broad daylight? Last night, I had makeup on. Right now, I’m bare-faced and deeply flawed.

The thick carpet muffles my steps as I walk toward the door. Should I change into decent clothing first? But maybe he’s just here to ask me to join him for breakfast? Oh God. Why am I overthinking everything?

I grasp the ornate brass handle and turn it, peeking at the small figure on the other side.

“Good morning, Miss Nina.” Standing in the doorway is a young woman about my age, her black hair neatly pinned up in a bun. She smiles brightly at me, her warm, friendly face making me smile back at her. “I heard you moving about, and I brought you breakfast.”

I step aside to let her in, and she gives me a nod of gratitude as she balances a tray in her hands, setting it down on the coffee table. It has a cup of steaming coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a beautifully arranged spread of bread, fruits, egg, and jam.

“Oh, gosh. Thank you so much for this…?”

“Elsa, Miss.” Her eyes sparkle with kindness. “Nikolai said to bring you breakfast in case you didn’t feel comfortable eating with him.”

“You call him Nikolai?” Her smile disappears, and she blinks slowly. Realization dawns on me at what I just said, and I smack a palm to my forehead. “God, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, Elsa. I should just shut up.”

Elsa gives me a sheepish smile. “I see how you’re surprised. House staff aren’t usually allowed to call their employers by their first names.”

I want to deny it, but that is true. My sisters would get a conniption if their assistants dared to call them by their names. “I’m sorry again. I must seem like a snob to you. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear. I’m just curious.”

She shakes her head, her smile widening again. “Nikolai insisted we call him that. He said he had enough people calling him boss or sir.” Elsa pulls her earlobe. “He’s not like other employers, Miss. He treats us like family.”

Yet another surprising thing about Nikolai. “Well, then. Stop calling me Miss. Call me Nina. Nice to meet you, Elsa.”

I extend a hand to her, and she takes it. “Nikolai was right. You are very beautiful.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. Nikolai gossips with his people? How so unlike him. Then again, I don’t really know him that much, do I? “W-what? He talked about me?”

Elsa nods enthusiastically. “Oh, he couldn’t stop. When he instructed me to bring you breakfast, he said, ‘You’ll be the first to lay eyes on her, Elsa. Make sure you don’t stare, even if her beauty knocks you off your feet.’”

Nikolai said that? “Oh, uhm, okay.”

She purses her lips and covers them with her hand. “My mouth is running again. I’m so sorry, Miss Ni … Nina. I’ll leave you to your breakfast now. If you need me, there’s a button by your bed. If I can’t come, Wilma will be here. If she’s not around, there’s Beth. Rest assured, there will be someone on the other line.”

“How many are in this house?”

Elsa thinks it over before she says, “Two dozen, probably? We go on shifts, depending on our classes.”

“Classes?”

“Nikolai requires everyone under thirty to attend college. He pays for it, says we need to fulfill our dreams.” Elsa looks like she’s about to burst, and she lowers her voice. “I’m graduating in two years. I’m going to be an accountant!”

She leaves me with my jaw hanging open. I’m trying to reconcile this version of Nikolai with everything I’ve heard about him. The stories paint him as this cold, calculating monster who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Who will take the lives of innocent people just because. Who will bathe in the blood of his enemies.

I’m utterly confused. The conflicting images swirl in my mind, leaving me uncertain and unsettled.

Who is my husband? What is the real version of him?

For the next three days, Nikolai stays true to his word. He leaves for work before I’ve woken up and arrives after I’ve had my dinner. We don’t even see each other unless I take a peek in the window when he gets home.

Did I imagine that steamy moment between us on our wedding night? Have I mistaken his kindness for attraction?

But Elsa said…

God, I’m losing it. Overthinking has always been a problem, and now my brain won’t shut up.

I’m still on break, and classes won’t start until next month. With nothing else to do except study, I spend hours exploring this mansion. There are at least a dozen bedrooms, and I’m surprised to find mine bigger than his. Yes, I checked out his bedroom and even his study. Both rooms weren’t locked, which was a dangerous thing to do given the nature of his ‘business’.

On the night before my wedding, Father told me to spy on Nikolai. Get whatever useful information from him, take photos of his documents. I had several chances to do just that, and Father didn’t let a day pass without texting me a reminder.

I can’t do it. I won’t.

This man trusts me enough that he lets me wander in his home. Father never did.

I’m not going to betray Nikolai when he hasn't done anything except welcome me to his home and give me the best sleep I’ve had in years. I’m beginning to think the air here is cleaner because I can breathe more freely. Sure, the overthinking is there, and so is the anxiety, but at least I don’t dread leaving my bedroom every single day.

I’m so lost between my random thoughts and the pages of my Anatomy and Physiology book when I hear the unmistakable, familiar sound of tires on gravel.

A smile spreads across my face, my excitement bubbling over.

This is crazy, and he’s probably tired from work, only looking forward to a peaceful night ahead.

But I crave his company, and I want to see him.

I practically fly out of my chair, running barefoot toward the front door. I’m wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and boxer shorts, but I don’t care. We can’t avoid each other forever. I don’t want to.

The wide door swings open just as I come to a halt in front of it. A rush of cold air sweeps in, but it’s quickly forgotten as I see my husband. He steps inside, his suit jacket draped over his forearm, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow.

He hasn’t noticed me yet as his eyes are glued to his phone.

Clearing my throat, I beam at him. “You’re home early.”

Nikolai freezes mid-step and snaps his head up, his eyebrows scrunching as though I just sprouted wings and two horns. “Nina? Is everything okay?”

I twine my fingers behind me and nod. “I just want to have dinner with my husband.”