He drills me with his dark glare that I’ve learned runs in the family. From his grandad to his dad, uncle, and even his psycho brother. “You will not hurt Jay. He has nothing to do with this.”
“You coming to his defense doesn’t help his case. Pretty sure Mom knows someone powerful in DC. Hmm…”
“I’d forgotten the entire thing until Mum mentioned it again. Jay and I are just friends and he barely has time to come back to the UK anymore.”
“So if he did have time, things would be different?”
“No. You know why?”
“Because I wouldn’t allow it?”
“Because I never wanted a prince. I prefer an unhinged motherfucker.”
“Hey! That’s me!” I grin so wide, I can see my reflection in his bright eyes.
“Don’t smile. You’ll grow on me.”
“Awe. I thought I was already.”
“Seriously, stop grinning. I don’t like sharing it with others.”
“Who’s the jealous one now?”
“I don’t share, Niko. Am I clear?”
“One thing we have in common.”
“You still didn’t wipe that look off your face.”
“Jesus, chill. I can’t believe everyone thinks you’re such a golden boy when you’re, in fact, a fucking control freak.”
“You have complaints, baby? You can voice them, but there’s no guarantee I’ll take them into account.”
My lips part and I can feel my heart crawling up to my mouth and spilling on the ground at his feet.
His smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
“You just called me baby.”
“Oh. It—”
“Don’t say it was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t. I want to call you that sometimes.”
I clutch him by a fistful of his jacket and drag him against me. “I need to kiss you—”
The words aren’t fully out of my mouth when he seals his lips to mine and sears himself in my fucking heart with the most passionate kiss. He kisses me with yearning, longing, and emotions he’s still hesitating to admit.
He kisses me like he will never let go of me.
Like he’ll burn for me as hot as I burn for him.
I want this moment to last forever, please and fucking thank you.
NIKOLAI
Inever thought I’d say this, but I think I’m actually going through an intensive sugar coma.
Over the past two days, Bran has been taking me to all these Italian, French, and Chinatown bakeries that I came out of with an armful of goodies that I consumed behind his back. While he’s fine with me buying pastries, he believes in an annoying concept called portioning.
Sugar’s worst enemy ever.
Anyway, I still have to finish these sickly-sweet cream buns and then I can go comatose in peace.
Unfortunately for me, we have to leave tomorrow. While Bran could stay longer and work on his project from here, I’ve missed two tests and I’m risking my grade drastically falling. And while I couldn’t care less about that, I don’t want to seem irresponsible in front of his parents.
Not to mention my own parents, who keep asking why the fuck I’m not attending school. I kind of told Dad about him, but I still didn’t mention he’s Landon’s twin. I’d rather he meet him directly instead of getting the idea that he’s like his psycho brother.
Astrid will definitely miss me, as she told me this morning. We formed a bond, and I’m telling you, that amazing woman will be my mother-in-law one day. My future father-in-law, however, likes to play hard to get. Now I know where his son got the trait from. But I think even his grumpy self will miss me.
Bran had no chance with me and neither will he.
Since Astrid and I are basically best friends now, I tried probing to find out if she knew about Bran’s cuts, but I don’t think so. Again, they’re really great parents, so I doubt they would’ve left him to his own devices if they’d discovered his nasty habits.
It makes sense that they haven’t. He wears a watch at all times and the most annoying part is that he has steel control over which emotions he shows. When I first got to know him, I often thought he was ice-cold, when, in fact, he was just exceptionally good at sealing everything inside.
I can tell that even his parents struggle to get him to open up. Hell, the only reason I found out about the cuts was through a coincidence, and after I drove him into a panic attack.
His mom and dad definitely do not like to push him. Which might not be the best strategy to deal with someone as closed off and inward-oriented as my lotus flower.
But that’s fine. I can be the villain and push him. I have to, because I’ve been reading about people who cut themselves and the mental ramifications, and it’s never a good idea to leave them alone.
It doesn’t get better as he likes to say. It’s not an addiction that he can withdraw from without addressing the reason he does it in the first place.
The general consensus in the forums full of people who cut themselves is that they need to purge the pain. One guy said that when he sees the blood pour out of him, he can finally exhale a breath of relief.
My stomach twisted at that image because I could picture Bran doing the same. In that damned closed bathroom. Battling against his demons and bleeding out.
Fucking alone.
That won’t be happening anymore.
As soon as we go back to the island, we have to address the mental cancer that’s eating at his head.
His presence stopped me from going on suicidal missions, so I refuse to let him self-destruct.
Maybe it’s because I’m more attuned to him than should be healthy, but he hasn’t been himself today. It started this morning, but after we went out, he relaxed for a bit. However, he became uptight during dinner.
Minimum words. Monosyllabic replies. A noticeable absence of the usual joking around with his dad. The worst part is that he kept his distance from me—something he hasn’t done over the course of the period I’ve spent at his childhood home.
The only variable that changed compared to previous dinners was Astrid’s agent, Grace. A middle-aged blonde woman with a fake laugh and ridiculous consumption of wine.
Astrid said they had a bit of a misunderstanding because she wanted Bran to sign with her, but he chose the agent Landon introduced him to.
I remember how happy he sounded when he talked about that over text. He was basically buzzing at how his brother recognized his talent and introduced him to his agent.
According to Astrid, that agent has nowhere near Grace’s talent, but she respects Bran’s decision even though she doesn’t understand it.
After dinner, I help Bran carry the dishes to the kitchen. He turns to leave, but I grab his wrist, stopping him by the counter.
He looks up at me, appearing exhausted, probably because of staying up late and trying to wake up early. This morning, I insisted we stay in bed and not go for a run at an ungodly hour. He’s done that a few times at the penthouse, and I had thought it would help him feel more relaxed today, but it’s only made him more agitated.
It doesn’t show in his movements or his expression, but his eyes tell a different story.
Seeing the emptiness in them is no different than having a knife plunged deep into my gut.
I stroke the back of his hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were uncomfortable in there, baby. If you don’t like the woman because of the pressure or whatever, just refuse to have dinner with her anymore. I’m sure your parents will understand.”
“She’s Mom’s agent and practically family at this point.”
“Family doesn’t get a free pass for everything. I don’t visit with members of my family who piss me off. Namely, my homophobe uncle who told me it’s okay to fuck guys as long as I marry a woman and give him Russian nephews.”
His expression softens and some of that emptiness cracks and vanishes with each of his deep breaths. “I’m sorry.”
“What did I say about apologizing for no reason?”
“There’s a reason. I hate that you feel judged.”
“I couldn’t care less about him and his useless, entirely meaningless opinion. As Dad says, he can go fuck himself.”
“God. I love how you give the world the middle finger without caring about anything or anyone.”
“If that’s what they deserve, that’s exactly what they’ll get.”
“Did you…” he trails off. “Forget it.”
“If you have something to ask me, just ask.”
His hands land on my hips, his face appearing a bit fragile, vulnerable, even. “Have you thought about your future within the mafia? What your uncle said makes sense and it’s not like you aren’t attracted to women, so you could do it for the image—”
“Don’t finish that or I’ll be pissed at you. Do you think I’d get married or do shit just for the mafia’s sake or an image? Is that what you really think of me?”
His throat works up and down with a gulp. “No, but don’t you need to have kids?”
“I don’t if I don’t want to. It’s my decision and none of anyone else’s business.”
“But wouldn’t being with a guy hurt your position? I know how much you love the thrill of that life, so I’d hate to see you lose it.”
“I won’t. Jeremy, Vaughn, and I will rule over that empire. The two of them are the most important heirs to the Bratva and they don’t give a fuck about my sexuality, so neither will anyone who wants to keep his head in place.”
“Vaughn?”
“The Pakhan’s son. You might have seen him at the initiation. He wore the white mask.”
“Oh, right. But I’ve never seen him around.”
“And you never will—at least, not on the island. He lives in the States and just comes around for the initiations.” I cup his jaw. “Point is, don’t worry your pretty head about my position. I’ll fight tooth and nail for what I want. Is that understood?”
He nods.
I cock my head in the direction of the dining room. “You going to do what you want and ignore the hag?”
“After Mum’s exhibition. And, Nikolai?”
“Hmm?”
“Promise me you won’t talk to Grace.”
“Why not?”
His palms tremble as he wraps them around my cheeks. The agitation in his voice sends my hackles rising in a fraction of a second. “Promise me. Please.”
“Okay, I promise.”
He expels a long breath and then brushes his lips against mine. “Thanks.”
When he releases me, his movements are fluid and he even smiles. “Want to model for me?”
“Always.”
“Wait for me in the studio. I just need to speak to my dad and I’ll be there.” He starts to go but turns around and kisses me again, hard and fast, then whispers against my lips, “I can’t get enough of you, baby.”
And then he leaves as if he didn’t just rip my heart out and take it with him.
Fuck me.