Nikolai: Mine to Protect (Russian Mob Chronicles #4)

Nikolai’s arrogance is at an all-time high, but not all of its boost is compliments of the lust raging in his eyes. I only arrived in the den because an odd sensation was twisting my stomach. I tried to push it aside as excited butterflies, but the longer I denied my feelings, the greater they became. Ignoring my instincts was the catalyst of my family’s downfall five years ago, so I have no intention of ignoring them again.

The further I traveled down the spiral staircase, the tighter the knot in my stomach grew. I couldn’t see the man Nikolai was speaking to in a hushed tone, but something deep inside me knew their conversation wasn’t good. I didn’t mean to startle when my eyes locked on Dimitri, but old habits die hard.

His family took more from me than you could possibly imagine, and although he helped in my rescue, I doubt that would have been the case if it wasn’t at Nikolai’s request. The Popovs are a highly ranked entity in their industry, and Nikolai’s reputation is unsurpassed. If you can’t play with them, you play beside them with the hope you’ll be picked for their team during their next selection process.

That’s what Dimitri did that night twelve months ago. He chose a path he knew would put him in Nikolai’s good graces. It was a smart move from both a business and personal standpoint.

Well, so it seemed at the time. Now I’m not so sure.

His expression when he said my punishment was worse than he ever wanted was the same one his face held when Col sentenced me to run the gauntlet. He seemed in pain, as if his heart bore the scars my body embraces. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear his visit today centered more around me than patching the rift between him and Nikolai.

I attempt to confirm my suspicions by asking, “Why was Dimitri here?”

With a grunt, Nikolai begins circling me again. “No, Ahren. That’s not the way things work.”

A year ago, I would have believed his sneer was in regards to the unjust rules men in his industry expect me to follow, but I’ve learned a lot the past twelve months. His attention isn’t fixated on the men pretending not to watch our charade through lowered lids. He has a union much more vital in his sights. He’s talking about our relationship—about us.

“He said I don’t owe him anything, and that he’s not your enemy.”

My breaths come out in a quiver when Nikolai’s nose dives into my hair to take a long, undignified whiff. “Is that all?”

The shake of my head amplifies the smell Nikolai is intoxicated by. “Although he wishes things were different, he said the only time he sides with an enemy is when he’s planning to take them down.”

My knees meet when Nikolai splays his hand across my jugular so he can pull my head closer to him. Even over the smell of smoke, his scent is hallucinogenic. He didn’t shower after our escapades, so he still smells of my arousal and sweat-slicked skin. It is a sweet, tangy scent that pairs well with the cigarette he just finished.

Recognizing that now is not the time for lust to get the better of me, I straighten my spine before stammering out, “Dimitri doesn’t wish you any harm. He said even though you were raised by the devil, you are still his brother.”

Nikolai growls. I’m unsure if my comment is responsible for his wordless reply or the fact my hair hasn’t been washed since our rigorous activities during our flight to Hopeton.

I assume it is the latter when he gathers my wild curls to one side of my neck. Although there’s an inch of air between us, I know he is hard. The blood roaring through his body isn’t just warming his breaths; it’s thickening his cock as well.

I gasp in a sharp breath when his fingertip traces the bitemarks on my shoulder. “Is that why you smell different? Because he set you free?”

Loose strands of hair fall to my shoulders when I rigorously shake my head. “If freedom comes with a new scent, you would have smelled it months ago.”

“Why?” His voice is jagged, as if his throat is being scorned by the same furious bout of lust charring mine.

A second growl ruffles the fine hair on my nape when I answer, “Because you broke through my cocoon with nothing but the tap of your knuckles on a tabletop.”

Nikolai’s men stand and leave when a whoosh sounds behind me. He doesn’t need to voice his demand for them to leave. They’re familiar with his silent commands because he issues them a minimum of three times a day.

Once we are alone, Nikolai bands his arm around my stomach to draw me into his body. He is hard as anticipated, the length of his thickened rod extending well past the curve in my lower back.

“Men in my industry are growing restless. They think I’m being led by my dick. What are your thoughts on that, Ahren?”

His brutish tone shouldn’t turn me on, but it does.

“I think they are foolish, impudent men whose stupidity will soon have them bowing at your feet, pleading for their lives.”

I’m not being facetious. Only a fool would accuse Nikolai of being spineless. If anything, our relationship should make them fear him more. The strong are brave because they were once weak. The fearless are no longer afraid because they’ve already been frightened, just like the men who were denied love stop at nothing to keep it once they have it.

“A real man does whatever it takes to protect the ones he loves. That doesn’t make him weak. It makes him fearless. Smart. It makes him the man I fell in love with in less than a second. You are the strongest you’ve ever been, Nikolai, so I don’t just find their remarks laughable, I believe they are punishable. They need to learn your crown isn’t emblazoned with fancy jewels and rhinestones. It is spiked with grit, discipline, and bravery.”

Nikolai’s cock throbs against my ass when he growls, “Spoken like a true queen.” The zipper in his jeans must be painfully biting his cock, yet it continues to grow, showing it hasn’t even reached half its strength yet. “The only person I’ll ever kneel for.”

Although it takes one hell of an effort to pull away from his embrace, I do. Nikolai wants me to stand at his side, not three paces behind him. I can’t do that if I continually follow the pleas of my body instead of my head. His responses tonight show he is struggling, and although he prefers to keep me out of the gritty elements of his “family business,” we’re a unit, meaning I have to accept both the good and bad parts of his industry.

“Ahren. . .” Nikolai’s disappointment weakens my campaign, but only a little.

I don’t want the power to rule a nation. I merely want enough to influence the man I’m in love with to see sense through the madness surrounding him.

I’m confident I have that. . . I just have no clue how to use it.

“Why was Dimitri here? It must have been important since he didn’t wait for the sun to rise.”

Bile burns my esophagus when Nikolai answers, “It’s no concern of yours.” He’s not being rude, but he is giving clear signs Dimitri’s visit isn’t up for discussion.

It’s a pity for him that my urge to protect him has grown as strong as my confidence the past year. “If it affects you, Nikolai, it affects me. We’re a team.” My hand drops to my stomach. “All of us.”

Nikolai was raised on hate. I will not have our baby reared the same way. There are parts of Nikolai’s industry I never want our baby subjected to, but I also understand that once you’re Bratva you’re always Bratva.

Even when you leave, it follows you.

Nikolai’s brother is living proof of this. Nikolai gave Rico a full pardon, yet he continually peers over his shoulder, waiting for the day he’ll be forced to answer for his desertion.

The worry in Nikolai’s voice startles me when he discloses, “Dimitri was here to issue a warning. He doesn’t appreciate the Russian stamp my entity is forging on his turf.”

I step back, my mouth dropping in bewilderment. I’m not just stunned he yielded to my demand so quickly; I’m shocked by his confession.

“You assured Rico you’d never set up shop in Florida. You may not have promised, but your word alone holds merit.”

“I know.” Nikolai scrubs the stubble on his chin before taking a seat on one of the cots his man vacated in a hurry. “And I intend to keep my word.” His lifts and locks his eyes with mine. “I am many things, Ahren, but I’ll never be accused of being a cheat.”

His reply has a double meaning—both for Rico and me. Although the eagerness of the unnamed blonde earlier tonight caught me in a low, I trust Nikolai with every fiber of my being. I know he’d never break mine or his brother’s trust.

After removing his hand from his chin, I slip into Nikolai’s lap. I am defenseless to his charm, but my obsession has as many good points as it does bad. Just my body pressed against his is enough to bring him back from the brink of insanity, so imagine its strength when he’s gifted my eyes at the same time?

“Do you trust Dimitri?”

Nikolai’s fingertip counts the bumps in my spine before he shrugs. “He’s yet to give me a reason not to. But. . .”

He leaves his question open for me to finalize how I see fit. Trust is not an easy thing for him to give. That’s why I’ll never break it, because I know how difficult it was for him to give it to me so early in our relationship.

“It was a great risk for him to come here.”

Nikolai jerks his chin up, agreeing with me.

“He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t believe what he was saying.”

Nikolai’s agreeing gestures keep coming, although this one isn’t as smooth as his first.

“If it is true, who do you think the Russians are?”

Nikolai smirks, amused at my endeavor to talk shop. He generally uses a charge like a bull in a china shop, ask questions later tactic. Not once the past year have I seen him sit down and work through his confusion. Any “talks” he undertakes are usually done with his fists, so I’m certain this is as foreign to him as it is for me.

Hoping he’ll see the good that can come from a new approach, I ask, “Have you spoken to Trey? He might have heard some rumblings.”

“These aren’t my men.” His eyes go a little murky with anger. “I trust them with both my life and yours. They wouldn’t be a part of my crew if I didn’t.” The conviction in his tone can’t be missed.

“Then who could it be?”

I’m not being nosy. I genuinely want to help him with this. Besides, isn’t this my role? A true queen doesn’t sit back and watch the royalties roll in. She brings an equal share to the table.

My breaths shorten when Nikolai mumbles, “Perhaps Asher.”

His reply shocks me. Asher is his friend more than an associate, so for Nikolai to suspect him isn’t just outrageous, it’s utterly blindsiding.

The reasoning behind his suspicions make sense when he says, “Asher has been off the radar since Dominque’s death. A grieving man could never be accused of being reasonable.”

A moan vibrates my lips. “But shouldn’t Dominique’s death keep his focus in Russia? He wants revenge, not a life in a foreign city.”

Although details are short, I am aware Nikolai used Asher’s infatuation with one of Vladimir’s whores to establish negotiations with Asher’s father last year. Nikolai wanted the Yurys business trades to be conducted through his entity instead of Vladimir’s. Dominque sweetened the deal at the start of their negotiations.

Unfortunately, she was killed in a coup gone wrong a little over six months ago. Asher has been off the grid ever since.

Recalling a conversation between Nikolai and Asher, I say, “You offered Asher an outlet months ago, Nikolai. He doesn’t need to go against you to develop ties here.”

Nikolai remains quiet, but I know in my heart he believes me. Just like Dimitri, Asher respects Nikolai too much to disrespect him like this. He may be mourning, but his grudge isn’t with Nikolai or his family.

“You should call him.”

When Nikolai peers at me as if I’m crazy, I give him my look who’s talking glare.

With a grin and perhaps a touch of reluctance, Nikolai pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. Any worries that he’s annoyed at my nosey nancying fly out the window when he purposely brushes my needy pussy in the process. He could have secured his phone without his hand diving between my legs, but the day he stops teasing me will be the day he takes his final breath. He lives to rile me up.

Staring at me, he dials a known number. His widening pupils expose how he wants his obedience rewarded. He’s going to get lost in my body, get high on it as if I’m the most potent drug on the market. My body will pay the restitution for his wavering on the rules he generally toes like a tightrope.

It takes Asher a few seconds to answer, but when he does, his greeting exposes what I suspected. He isn’t Nikolai’s enemy. He is his friend.

“Still chasing the sun?”

A grin tugs at Nikolai’s lips. “It’s better than chasing a receding hairline.”

Even if Nikolai’s phone wasn’t on speaker, I’d still hear Asher’s laugh. “Fucking bastard.” He curses Nikolai in Russian. “Just like my cock, my hairline is well-stocked.”

“The magic of little blue pills.” Nikolai scans my face, ensuring I’m aware I am his Viagra of choice. “I’ve heard they do wonders. I’ll be sure to test them out if I ever get as old and as limp-dicked as you.”

Their conversation would be amusing if it didn’t have a snippet of honesty behind it. Both Nikolai and Asher’s lineage reveal the rarity of any member of their family living past the age of forty. Vladimir had such a long campaign because he was at the very top of the food chain.

The soldiers underneath him weren’t as lucky.

At a ripe age of twenty-eight, Asher is already in his prime. If this doesn’t make me immensely grateful for Nikolai’s high role in his industry, nothing will.

Their conversation steers in a new direction when Nikolai straight up asks Asher if he has any men in Hopeton. Asher’s tone doesn’t falter in the slightest when he denies the accusation in Nikolai’s tone. “I’m fighting my own war, so why would I join yours?”

“Dimitri said—”

“There’s your first error. Wasn’t it you who told me brothers don’t carry the same blood in their veins; they stain their hands with it?” Asher’s voice isn’t laced with the annoyance Nikolai’s has. His is more truthful than anything. “Who stood at your side when you claimed Emil life’s for bidding on your queen?”

Nikolai quickly switches his cell to the regular setting, but it doesn’t stop me from hearing what Asher says next: “And who will stand at my side when the men responsible for Dominque’s death pay their penalty?”

“I will always have your back,” Nikolai quotes in Russian, his accent deepening as his desire to kill grows.

He feels every inch of Asher’s pain because he experienced the same torturous emotions when my body convulsed after Vladimir kicked out the chair saving me from being hung.

I want to act surprised by the heaviness of their conversation, but I’m not. Nikolai has never hidden who he is from me. Not even his wish to rid the world of the men who bid on me has been concealed. I just hate having it thrust in my face like this. Keeping my head buried in the sand may make others see me as a coward, but I’d rather be seen as spineless than heartless.

The flaring of Nikolai’s nostrils stops when Asher replies, “As I will forever have yours, Nikolai. Change makes people nervous, but order keeps them in line. My men are in the process of learning that. Yours are already aware. They wouldn’t disrespect you like this.”