33. Kat

Chapter 33

Kat

I still think we should give it a shot,” I say, my voice low as I swirl the champagne in my glass.

Nik sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, which gleams under the terrace lights. My turn to sigh. His hair is my kryptonite. Then again, let’s be honest—his everything is my weakness.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he says, voice low but firm.

“No. You tried to lay down the law, and I acted like I agreed—fully intending to make you see things my way when the right moment came.” I lean closer, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is the right moment.”

“It’s too risky,” he mutters, jaw tightening as he takes a measured sip of his drink.

“Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” I wave a hand at the terrace around us, gesturing at the crowd of McGuire’s guests. A burst of laughter erupts nearby, rowdy and unrestrained, drowning out the soft strains of the band playing in the background.

Nik's eyes narrow. He shakes his head slowly. "Make no mistake—this crowd won't stop McGuire if we cross him.”

“Seriously, he won’t think anything of it.”

His expression remains flat, completely unconvinced.

“He won’t,” I insist, pushing my point. “He practically bragged about Erin when he gave me the house tour. If he spots me talking to her—and that’s a huge if in this crowd—he’ll just think I’m curious after hearing so much about her.”

He sighs heavily. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

I flash him a sweet smile. “Nope. You know me too well already, kotyonok .” Rising on my toes, I plant a kiss on his cheek.

He tries to look stern, but I catch the way his lips twitch, fighting a smile. His disapproving act doesn’t fool me for a second.

“No need to butter me up. You already got what you wanted,” he grumbles, though his hand slides to the small of my back as I brush a kiss against his lips. “Go ahead, talk to Erin. But for the love of God, be careful. We’re outnumbered tonight, at least two dozen to one. And the last time someone I cared about got involved with Erin McGuire... things didn’t end well.”

I give him a playful salute. “Got it. Your wish is my command,” I tease, turning to leave.

His hand snaps out to grip my wrist. “I mean it, Kat. Don’t tell her anything you wouldn’t want McGuire to hear.”

I nod, my expression serious. “I won’t. Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” I reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. “I’ll be right back.”

He studies me for a second longer, then lets go, though his eyes stay locked on me as I walk toward Erin.

I force myself to keep my pace casual as I approach her. She’s leaning against the balustrade, her soft brown hair spilling over her shoulders, lost in thought as she gazes into the night.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my tone light as I lean against the railing beside her. “You’re Erin, right? Your dad was just telling me about you. I’m Kat Devereaux.”

She blinks, startled, her big green eyes focusing on me like she’s just woken from a dream. After a beat, she takes my outstretched hand, her grip surprisingly firm.

“Hi,” she says, her voice polite but distant. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” I reply warmly. “I have to say, I’m a little jealous. You're so lucky to live here. This place is incredible.”

“Thanks. That’s sweet of you to say.” Her tone is pleasant, her expression polite, but there’s a faraway quality to her gaze, like her mind is already elsewhere.

“It's true,” I continue, trying to coax her into the conversation. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to head back to the city. I mean, if I lived here, I'd refuse to leave, too.

The aloof beauty nods absently, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, I think I’ll be here for a while. I can’t go back yet.” She sighs, almost like it slipped out without her meaning to.

“No one would blame you for staying.” I gesture lightly around us. “I’m sure there’s plenty to do here in the summer. Your dad’s into sailing, obviously, but what about you? What do you do for fun?”

“Fun?” She frowns, blinking as though the word is foreign to her. “I take long walks by the water. Sometimes I swim.”

“So you’re the outdoorsy type?” I smile, trying to draw her out. “Sounds like a good way to spend your time.”

“You’d think,” she replies with a shrug, her tone flat. Then her gaze flicks to me. “I saw you earlier with Nikolai. Are you his date?”

“You could say that,” I reply lightly, testing the waters. “Do you know him well?”

“Oh, not really,” she says, her tone cautious. “But we’ve known each other for a while. He’s a good guy.”

“I’m starting to think so, too,” I say with a soft laugh. Her polished exterior falters just a little, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Have you been together long?” she asks, tilting her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring a date anywhere before.”

Interesting . I file that tidbit away for later. “Not long,” I admit. “Things between us have… moved fast.”

“Oh.” She blinks, her frown knitting as if she’s trying to piece something together. “That’s... surprising. It doesn’t sound like him. You must be special.”

Her manners are flawless, her words poised, but there’s an awkwardness to her, as though she’s out of practice with small talk.

I laugh, letting her comment roll off me. “I guess I must be. Thank you... I think.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she shakes her head, looking mortified. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I didn’t mean to—please don’t take it the wrong way.”

“It’s fine, really,” I reassure her with an easy smile. “You didn’t offend me. Besides, you’re not wrong—it doesn’t sound like him, does it? But hey, I guess that just makes me very special.”

For the first time tonight, she cracks a genuine smile—a subtle, almost imperceptible curve of her lips. But it’s there.

“Yeah,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think you are.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you to say, Erin. I’m sorry, but I have to ask—for someone who claims not to know Nik well, you seem to know a lot about what does or doesn’t sound like him. Should I be worried?” I keep my tone light, though my curiosity is piqued.

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head quickly. “Oh, God. No, not at all. I swear, it’s nothing like that.” She shakes her head again, her tone earnest. “It’s just... complicated. I feel like I know him, but I don’t. Not really. I just—used to know someone who did.”

In the softest tone I can manage, I ask, “Do you mean Maxim?”

Her gasp is audible, her eyes going wide as if I’ve said something forbidden. For some reason, it feels like no one has dared to say his name around her in a very long time.

“Yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean him. He used to talk about Nikolai so much it felt like I knew him, too. But honestly, Nik and I have only spoken a handful of times. I barely know him. And honestly—if the way he was acting around you earlier is any indication, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Maxim would’ve loved to see it.”

Her smile wavers, turning sad, and she looks away, her gaze lost in the distance.

“You miss him,” I say gently. “Maxim, I mean.”

She hesitates, then nods, her eyes shimmering with tears she’s clearly trying to hold back. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

My heart clenches. This poor, poor girl. “Oh Erin, I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

She nods again, her tears spilling over despite her effort to keep them at bay. I quickly rummage through my clutch, pulling out a pack of tissues and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, taking one and dabbing at her eyes before clearing her throat.

“Don’t mention it,” I say softly, giving her space to gather herself.

“You’re the first person to say that to me,” she says quietly, her voice trembling. “That you’re sorry for my loss, I mean.” She dabs at her tears, turning her head slightly as if to shield her grief from the others.

“What do you mean?” I ask, disbelief lacing my voice. “What about your friends? Your family?”

“No one would dare say it,” she admits with a shaky breath. “They won’t even acknowledge he’s gone, let alone that I might be grieving. It’s... taboo. Because of my dad, and everything that happened back then.”

I shake my head, horrified. “I can’t believe this. You lost the man you loved, and no one has even offered you a shoulder to cry on?”

Her bitter laugh is quiet but cuts through me. “It’s worse than that. We’re barely allowed to say his name. It’s like he never existed. Like his death isn’t even real.”

“Oh, Erin,” I murmur, my chest tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

She nods, sniffling softly as she wipes her tears. After a moment, she pats my hand on the railing. Her touch is hesitant but sincere. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Of course,” I say gently. “You don’t have to thank me for just... being a decent human being.”

“No, I do,” she insists, her tone firmer. “I really do. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. My dad can’t know.”

“It’ll stay between us,” I promise. “But Erin, there’s something you should know.” I glance around, making sure no one’s close enough to overhear, then lower my voice. “Your dad might pretend Maxim never existed, but his death is very real to Nik. He hasn’t forgotten, not for a second. If there’s anything you know—anything Nik should hear—don’t be afraid to tell him.”

Erin stares at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, just once, before turning back toward the horizon.

Erin’s eyes widen, and Nik’s warnings about the risks of approaching her echo in my mind. She’s clearly under her father’s thumb, but as I look at her now—brokenhearted, hesitant—I can’t believe she’d betray Maxim’s memory. Whatever Erin McGuire’s sins might be, it’s clear she’s still deeply in love with Maxim.

She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates, biting her lip. Her gaze flits around us before she leans in slightly. “I don’t mean to offend you,” she whispers so softly I have to strain to hear her. “You’ve been so kind to me tonight, but... I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”

“I get that,” I reply, keeping my tone gentle. “But you know Nik. Or at least, you knew him through Maxim. I never knew Maxim, but if the way Nik talks about him is any indication, the two of them shared an unbreakable bond. That bond hasn’t faded. I can see that in Nik, and I’m sure you can too. So if you can’t trust me, trust Nik. And know that I speak for him when I ask you to help us do right by Maxim.”

Erin stares at me for what feels like an eternity, her green eyes searching mine. Finally, she nods, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I can’t tell you everything,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not now. Not here—these walls have ears. But Nik should know... my dad was acting strangely the day Maxim died. He even called Connor back—his right-hand man. Connor was two states away, dealing with a shipment issue, but my dad suddenly had him rush back that morning to attend the gala. I overheard them arguing on the phone.”

“What else did you hear?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

She shrugs, frustration flickering across her face. “Not much. Dad kept me locked up here that day. He had guards stationed everywhere—I couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t see or hear anything. But...” Her voice falters, and she glances around nervously. “There’s one more thing, but we really shouldn’t discuss it here.”

Her gaze darts over the crowd as though she can sense invisible eyes watching us. Whatever she’s holding back, it’s obvious she’s terrified to say it aloud.

I want to groan with impatience and frustration, but I manage to keep my tone steady. “When can you meet me? And where? Just give me a time and place.”

She glances around nervously before finally leaning in. “Meet me by the front steps at midnight. We’ll go for a walk, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“I’ll be there.” I spot movement over her shoulder and lower my voice. “Now smile. Here comes your dad.”

Her eyes widen, and she glances back quickly, catching sight of Patrick McGuire heading toward us. Unfortunately, she’s not half the actress I am, and her startled expression is a dead giveaway.

I sigh internally. If she can’t hold it together, I’ll have to handle him myself—and that means distracting him, likely with some shameless flirting.

“Should I be concerned that the two women always on my mind are now chatting?” McGuire asks, his gaze bouncing between us as he winks at me.

I force a laugh, light and breezy. “Oh, you’re impossible,” I say, watching as Erin uses the opportunity to excuse herself, retreating into the crowd without a word.

“Are you having a good time, Kat?” McGuire asks, turning his full attention to me. His green eyes gleam with something far too familiar. “Is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

“Oh, Patrick,” I reply, forcing a light laugh as his gaze drifts lower than is appropriate. “You’ll get me in trouble.”

He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “I’m game if you are. Just lose the Russian, and we can have some fun.”

My skin crawls at his words, but I keep my mask firmly in place, tilting my head just slightly. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It can be,” he says, his grin widening. “What’s stopping you?”

I sigh theatrically, feigning uncertainty. “Well, Nik can be... difficult. I wouldn’t dare do anything to provoke his anger.”

McGuire chuckles, moving even closer. “I can protect you, sweetheart.”

“Can you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as if intrigued. “It’s just... I’m not sure. It feels like a big risk.”

He straightens slightly, his tone turning insistent. “No, no. Tell me what I need to do to show you I can protect you from him.”

“Well, there’s one thing…” I say, letting my eyes go wide as I add just the right note of hesitation to my voice. Inside, I cringe at the theatrics, but McGuire doesn’t seem to notice. His gaze fixes on my lips, glazed with interest. The hook is set.

I take a slow breath, mentally rehearsing how to nudge the conversation toward my real goal. If I can plant the idea that having proof he took Maxim’s life would convince me he’s strong enough to stand up to Nik, I’ll have something useful. Hopefully the recording device will pick up his confession above the crowd noise. I’m right on the verge of reeling him in when a familiar, firm hand wraps around my waist, pulling me back against a broad chest.

Startled, I glance up and meet Nik’s dark brown eyes, locked on mine, unreadable.

“Hi there,” I say, keeping my voice neutral, though my curiosity is piqued—and my irritation. His timing couldn’t be worse.

“Hi,” he replies, his tone deceptively soft. “I’ve missed you.”

I turn to face him fully, angling my body to hide my expression from McGuire. My eyes narrow as I shoot him a look that says exactly what I’m thinking: What are you doing?

Nik, of course, ignores me completely. His attention shifts to McGuire, his tone turning cold. “McGuire.”

“Nikolai,” McGuire replies smoothly, smirking like the cat who got the cream. “We were just talking about you.”

“Were you now?” Nik’s brow arches, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.

“Absolutely.” McGuire’s grin widens, but he steps back. “If you’ll excuse me, though, my guests are waving me over. I think they’re begging for my famous card trick. You must let me show it to you later, Kat.” He winks at me. “We’ll finish our chat then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I reply with an easy smile, adding a wink of my own for good measure.

Satisfied, McGuire trots off toward a group of drunken men, their raucous laughter welcoming him like a hero returning from battle.

Nik doesn’t waste a second. His hand clamps around my wrist, and he drags me toward a shadowed corner by the railing. The moment we’re out of sight, he spins me around to face him, his dark eyes blazing with fury.

“What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice low and sharp.

I yank my wrist free, glaring up at him. “I could ask you the same thing! What were you thinking? I was this close to getting him to tell me everything. We could’ve had a recording of his confession if you hadn’t barged in!”

He stares at me, incredulous, then lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “McGuire wouldn’t confess to Maxim’s murder in the middle of a goddamn party. And he sure as hell wouldn’t do it with me anywhere nearby.”

“You don’t know that,” I shoot back, crossing my arms. “He flat-out told me to ditch you for him. And if you can believe it, he even promised he’d protect me. From you .”

He freezes, his body going stiff. “ He did what ?” he roars.

I take a step back, already knowing what’s coming. Sure enough, his head swivels, his eyes scanning the terrace for McGuire.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, stepping in front of him. “What’s wrong with you”

“What’s wrong with me?” he repeats, his voice rising, each word vibrating with fury. “How the fuck can you ask me that? It’s one thing for him to flirt with you in front of me—that’s just him trying to get under my skin. I can deal with it. But openly trying to steal you ? Promising to protect you from me—while I’m right fucking here ?” His voice cracks, shaking with rage. “That’s too much, Kat. He’s asking for it now.”

He steps forward, his hand sliding to my waist to move me aside. “Let’s see how well he can protect himself from me.”

“No!” I plant my feet, shoving my hands against his chest to stop him. “Nik, stop .”

His chest heaves under my palms, his entire body taut, ready to snap. “Kat,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Move.”

“I’m not moving,” I fire back, locking eyes with him. “You’re not doing this. Have you completely lost your mind? You were just talking about how badly outnumbered we are. This is his home. You pick a fight with him here, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

He smirks darkly. “I’ll take him with me. It’ll be worth it.”

Horrified, I gasp and grab the lapels of his jacket, yanking him back into the shadowed corner with me. It takes all my strength to drag his massive frame, but thankfully, he doesn’t resist—at least not much.

“How can you say something like that?” I whisper harshly, my voice breaking. “What about me? What happens to me if you get yourself killed in a fight with McGuire and his men?”

His frown deepens as he blinks rapidly, the crazed glint in his eyes dimming. “ Kiska ,” he sighs, his hand coming up to cradle my cheek. His thumb strokes softly over my skin as his dark eyes finally meet mine, their anger melting into something achingly tender. “No, no, don’t be upset. Please. I can’t stand to see you upset. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“What did you think would happen when you said you’d throw yourself at them? All by yourself, against dozens of men!” My voice trembles as I shake him by his jacket. “What were you thinking?”

His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his face. “I—I wasn’t thinking.”

“No kidding,” I mutter, exasperation lacing my voice. “I just don’t understand you sometimes, Nik.”

He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Since I met you, I don’t understand myself sometimes, either.” His shoulders rise and fall in a helpless shrug. “But can you really blame me? After everything that bastard has done, is it so surprising that I can barely stop myself from killing him?”

“Well, no,” I admit reluctantly, my tone softening just a fraction. “But there’s a reason you’ve held back this long. You don’t want to start a war, remember?”

His jaw tightens, his lips twitching into a grim, humorless smile. “Less and less by the minute.”

“Nik,” I growl through clenched teeth, giving him another sharp shake for good measure. “I can’t believe you’re risking everything you’ve worked for—everything we’ve worked for. Especially now, when we’re so close to nailing McGuire. I haven’t even told you what Erin said to me. That’s how crazy you’re acting.”

“You think I’m crazy now?” he snaps, his voice low and brimming with menace. “Wait until you see what I’ll do if I have to stand by and watch him flirt with you or touch you one more time.”

“What about Maxim?” I fire back, my voice rising. “What about your plan to make his killer pay? Have you forgotten all of that?”

That wild, unhinged look flashes back into his eyes, his jaw tightening. “No, I haven’t forgotten. But maybe I’ve had enough. Maybe I just want to watch it all burn, consequences be damned. If McGuire wants a war, maybe I’ll give it to him.”

“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, my breath hitching.

His brow arches, his eyes glittering dangerously. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice dropping to a near growl. “Because I’m not.”

My chest tightens, my hands still clutching his jacket. “You wouldn’t do that,” I say softly. “You wouldn’t do that to your men. They trust you. You’re their pakhan .”

His lips twitch into a bitter smile. “Maybe I’m tired of always being the pakhan . Maybe I want to be just a man for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His burning gaze locks onto mine, molten and raw. He leans in slowly, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath hot and unsteady. “As the pakhan , I have to think of others,” he murmurs. “I have to put their needs above mine. But if I was nothing but a man, I could take what I want. What I need . And tell the rest to go to hell.”

My breath catches at the rawness of his words. “What do you need and want so badly,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, “that you’d risk your life for it?”

His eyes never leave mine, blazing with unrestrained emotion as he answers. “You,” he says simply. “Right now, I need to take you away from this place and make you mine. Until there’s no doubt in your mind—or anyone else’s—that you belong to me. Until you understand that I’d burn the whole world down if it meant keeping us together.

The weight of his confession steals my breath. I can only stare at him, words lost.

Without another word, Nik closes the space between us and kisses me.