46. Kat

Chapter 46

Kat

“Why don’t you just tell me, then?” I ask softly.

Nik doesn’t answer right away. He stares straight ahead, like he’s seeing something only he can. Finally, he lets out a long sigh.

“It’s not a nice story,” he says quietly. “And it doesn’t make me look good. But if we’re doing this—if you’re really staying—you should know.”

He pauses, and I hold my breath, afraid that any movement or word might make him change his mind.

“I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I met Maxim,” he begins. “Maybe ten? Something like that. Maxim was about the same age, but he’d been on his own a lot longer. I’d just been kicked out by my parents, but Maxim—he’d already been surviving by himself for years. We clicked fast. We always looked out for each other, even before the bratva came along.”

His shoulders tense, and his voice drops slightly. “But the bratva did come along, as it always does for boys in our position. Things could've changed then, but they didn’t. Somehow, we stuck together.”

He shifts his weight slightly, his hands still buried in his pockets. “Things were different in those days—dangerous for young shestyorka like us. Before I became pakhan , it was brutal. I like to think I’ve made things better now—that we take care of our own. But back then... back then, it was survival of the fittest.”

His voice tightens as he adds, “Maxim and I were so young, so hungry for something more. We were desperate. We had nothing to lose but each other. And, Kat, a man with nothing to lose is the most dangerous kind there is. That’s how we survived, how we rose through the ranks. It’s how I became the pakhan . But...” He trails off, laughing bitterly under his breath. “I’m rambling.”

He shakes his head, and before I can stop myself, I step forward and press a kiss to his back. “Nik?—”

He picks up right where he left off, like I hadn’t even interrupted. “We were still pretty young when I found the Flame of Mir. Maxim was over the moon about it. He thought it was some kind of sign—a good omen for everything we wanted to do. He kept saying I should sell it, use the money to get a head start on taking over the bratva . But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

He pauses, shaking his head slightly. “Maybe I bought into his sentimental nonsense, or maybe I just wasn’t ready to let it go. Either way, I kept it. And, over time, it became... more than just a diamond to me. It was a reminder of how far I’d come, of everything I’d survived to get to where I was. When I looked at it, I felt... proud. Like I’d made something of myself despite all the shit life threw at me.

“But it was more than that. It reminded me of Maxim. He was there through it all—the good, the bad, everything in between. I couldn’t have done any of it without him.”

His words hit me like a gut punch. My chest tightens, and guilt twists in my stomach like a knife. I didn’t just steal a diamond. I stole this. Something that meant so much more than money ever could.

And I didn’t just take it—I handed it over to the stronzo .

Completely unaware of the chaos churning inside me, Nik keeps talking. “I was young when I became the pakhan . Too young. My position wasn’t secure back then, and I was terrified of losing everything I’d fought for. Most of the other families didn’t trust me at first. They stayed neutral, waiting to see if I could hack it.”

“But McGuire...” He pauses, his jaw tightening before he goes on. "McGuire was different. He reached out to me, said he wanted to mentor me, even offered to support me publicly. That would’ve been huge, Kat. The Irish have always controlled the port. Having him on my side? That would’ve been a game changer.”

Nik exhales slowly, his shoulders tensing. “We got close, or at least I thought we did. He started confiding in me about trouble with his men. Said he was worried about his daughter, that some of his guys were causing problems and she might not be safe. So I offered a solution. Someone from outside his ranks to protect her. Someone he could trust.”

Maxim.

I hold my breath, tightening my arms around Nik’s waist, hoping he doesn’t notice the way my hands are shaking.

His fingers brush over mine absently, and he exhales before continuing, his voice quieter now, almost hollow.

“You can probably guess what happened next,” he says. “I gave McGuire my best man—Maxim. I couldn’t stop singing his praises. Told McGuire how he was the most trustworthy, capable guy I had. There was no one better for the job, no one I trusted more. McGuire ate it up. By then, everyone had heard about my takeover of the bratva , and Maxim’s reputation had skyrocketed along with mine. I was so damn proud of myself, Kat. I thought I’d solved McGuire’s problem and secured an ally for life.”

He laughs bitterly, his voice dropping. “But then I found out about him and Erin. Maxim told me it wasn’t just a fling, that he cared about her. Really cared. And he wanted me to back him up.” He shakes his head, his body stiffening against me. “But I couldn’t. Erin wasn’t just some girl—she was McGuire’s daughter. Worse, she was promised to Lorenzo Salvatore since they were kids. The heir of the Italian family.”

Hearing the name, I freeze. My body stiffens before I can stop it. I’ve never met Lorenzo, but his uncle—the stronzo —is a name I know all too well. Forcing myself to relax, I bury the tension and pray Nik doesn’t notice.

But he’s too lost in his story to look closely at me. He keeps going, his voice gaining a harder edge. “When it came out that Erin and Maxim were together, the engagement was broken. McGuire was furious. He lost his alliance with the Italians, and he blamed Maxim for it. Said he’d ‘ruined’ Erin.” His lips press into a tight line. “And Giuseppe Salvatore—Lorenzo’s uncle—wasn’t any better. He demanded Maxim pay for the humiliation. And me? I was still new to this, Kat. I had no idea how to handle something like that. I couldn’t risk a war with both families.”

He pauses, his jaw tightening. “McGuire demanded Maxim’s death. Said it was the only way to fix things. And the Italians backed him up. They wanted blood.”

Nik’s voice falters, and he exhales heavily. “I talked McGuire down, got him to agree to exile instead of execution. I thought I was doing the right thing. I convinced myself I was saving Maxim’s life. But to Maxim, it didn’t feel like saving. It felt like betrayal.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his breathing uneven. “He begged me to stand by him, Kat. Told me how much he loved her, how she was everything to him. But I didn’t help him. I sent him away. I sent him to Russia, back to where we started. And for what? To keep McGuire happy? To stop a war I wasn’t ready to fight? I thought I was protecting him, but all I did was take away the one thing that mattered to him.”

I tighten my grip on him, but he keeps going, his voice lower now, thick with emotion. “I didn’t understand back then. I didn’t know what it would feel like to lose someone like that. But now? Now I have you, and I can’t stop thinking about it. If someone tried to take you from me—if I was in Maxim’s shoes—I don’t know what I’d do. And knowing that, knowing what I stole from him... it eats at me every damn day.”

“Nik,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart breaking at the pain in his voice.

His hand closes over mine, lifting it to his lips. He presses a kiss there, soft and almost absent, before resting it back against his stomach.

“I tried to fix it,” he murmurs. “Eventually, I felt like the bratva and I were strong enough that I could bring Maxim back, make things right. But McGuire made sure I never got the chance. Now all I have left are regrets. Everything I never got to say to him.”

I can’t take it anymore. I move around to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his.

"No," I whisper when I pull back, meeting his tormented gaze. “That’s not all you have. I didn’t know Maxim, but I know you. You loved him, and he loved you—that’s why it hurts so much. You keep him with you every day. I see it in the way you talk about him, in everything you do. And that bond? No one—not McGuire, not Salvatore, not anyone—can take that from you.”

The words barely leave my mouth before Nik groans deeply, as though something inside him just broke. His mouth crashes into mine, a kiss so intense it feels like he’s trying to claim my soul. His lips are hot and demanding, his tongue sliding against mine with a ferocity that sends a shiver down my spine.

His hand knots in my hair, pulling my head back so he can deepen the kiss. The other hand clamps onto my hip, his fingers digging into the flesh as though he’s anchoring himself to me.

He lifts me like I weigh nothing, spinning us around before setting me down on the edge of his desk, the wood digging into the backs of my thighs. His hands grip my hips, spreading my legs as he steps between them, and I immediately hook my ankles around his waist, dragging him closer.

His lips leave mine, blazing a trail across my jaw, down my neck, and along my shoulders. Each kiss is open-mouthed and hungry, leaving a slick trail of heat on my skin. His hot breath fans over me, and the rough scrape of his stubble ignites every nerve he touches. Between kisses, his voice is low and hoarse, his words vibrating against my throat. “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you, Kat, but thank God I did. Thank God.”

My chest tightens at the rawness in his voice. I grab his face, pulling his mouth back to mine, and kiss him hard, pouring everything I can’t say into it. My hands claw at his shoulders, my nails dragging down his back as I try to get closer, my body thrumming with need.

His hands are everywhere, roaming over my thighs, squeezing my hips, pulling me into him. My fingers fumble at his belt, yanking it open, the metal buckle clanging against the desk as I shove his zipper down, the rasp of metal loud in the charged silence.

His hand slides between us, his fingers shoving my underwear aside, and then he’s touching me. Hot, rough, and precise. The first stroke makes me gasp, my head falling back as a sharp jolt of pleasure courses through me. When he presses two fingers inside, my breath catches, and I bite down on his shoulder, hard, to stifle the cry clawing its way out of my throat.

“Fuck,” Nik growls against my neck, his voice low and strained. His fingers curl, stroking deep, dragging sharp bolts of pleasure through me that leave my legs shaking.

I tug him closer, my fingers wrapping around his thick, hot length. He hisses, his hips jerking involuntarily into my grip as I stroke him slowly. But when he starts to press inside, he moves deliberately, torturously slow, his gaze locked on mine.

I guide him to me, the blunt head pressing against my entrance, but he moves maddeningly slow, pushing just the tip inside. His eyes lock on mine, that familiar look of control blazing in his dark gaze, and I know exactly what he’s planning.

Not tonight.

I dig my heels into his ass and push my hips forward, taking him in one deep, desperate thrust.

Nik curses, his head dropping to my shoulder as his cock stretches me wide, filling me completely. The stretch burns, sharp and overwhelming, but I don’t care—I need all of it. I rake my nails down his back, leaving angry red marks that make him hiss through his teeth.

“You’re going to kill me,” he mutters, his voice shaking as he pulls back and thrusts into me again, harder this time.

I smirk up at him, leaning back on the desk, daring him to to do something about it.

His eyes flash, and then his mouth is on my neck. His lips trace down my neck, soft and deliberate, teasing me with wet, lingering kisses. His tongue flicks against the spot where my shoulder meets my neck, and my body arches into him, every nerve on fire.

Then he bites—sharp and deep, a possessive claim that sends a bolt of pleasure straight to my core.

I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hips snap forward, hard and unrelenting.The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room—skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic creak of the desk, the rough, guttural sounds spilling from his throat. I grip the edge of the desk, my body arching into him as he drags me closer to the edge with every thrust.

My world narrows to this—the heat of his body, the slick glide of his cock, the punishing rhythm of his hips. Each thrust sends shockwaves through me, building and building until I’m teetering on the edge, and I know I’ll gladly fall if it’s with him

“You’re mine, Kat,” he groans, his voice low and rough against my skin. His lips are trembling, his breath hot as he drags his mouth along my neck. His thrusts are deep, relentless, sending shockwaves through me with every snap of his hips. “I can’t lose you. I’ll never fucking let you go, kiska . Never. You hear me?”

I dig my nails into his back, feeling the muscles bunch and ripple under my hands. His body is so tense, so desperate. “Yeah, Nik. Yours. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

The sound he makes in response is primal, almost a growl, vibrating deep in his chest. I feel it like a thunderclap, a raw, possessive energy that radiates from him into me. His hips grind into me harder, driving himself deeper, as if he’s trying to brand me from the inside.

“Say it again,” he rasps, his voice sharp as his lips crash into mine. The kiss is messy, all tongue and teeth, our breaths mingling in frantic gasps. His hands are everywhere—one gripping my hip so tightly I’ll probably bruise, the other sliding down between us.

His fingers find my clit, and I cry out against his mouth as he circles it with devastating precision. My body jolts, the sharp pleasure making my thighs tremble around his waist.

“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rougher this time. He breaks the kiss to look at me, his dark eyes wild, burning with possession. “I want to hear it. Look at me, Kat. Tell me who you belong to as you come for me.”

“Fuck,” I gasp, my head falling back, but his hand on my jaw pulls me forward.

“No,” he growls, his grip firm, his fingers squeezing just enough to make me open my eyes and meet his. “Look at me. Say it. I want those words in my fucking ears when you fall apart for me.”

His other hand moves to my breast, his fingers pinching my nipple hard enough to make me arch into him, pain and pleasure colliding in a way that makes my toes curl.

“Y-you,” I stammer, my voice breaking as I struggle to breathe. “I belong to you.”

“Damn right, you do,” he snarls, his thrusts picking up again, harder, faster, more brutal.

The desk shakes under us, the edge digging into my thighs as he pounds into me, his hips slamming against mine with a force that sends stars shooting behind my eyes. Every movement is raw, possessive, like he’s trying to bury himself so deep I’ll never forget who I belong to.

“Mine,” he groans, the word vibrating against my neck as his teeth graze my skin. His hand finds my clit again, circling it mercilessly, and I feel myself breaking, the tension snapping all at once.

I scream his name, my nails biting into his shoulders as my body convulses around him. My thighs squeeze tight around his waist as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes through me.

“Fuck, Kat,” Nik grits out, his movements growing frantic as he chases his release. With a deep, guttural groan, he slams into me one last time, his cock pulsing as he fills me. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, like he needs to keep me as close as humanly possible.

For a moment, all I can hear is our ragged breathing, the room thick with heat and the sound of our hearts pounding.

Time feels like it’s standing still as I lie in his arms, savoring the feel of him—his weight pressing into me, the heat of his body against mine. My whole body feels loose, relaxed, like I could melt into him. Nik nuzzles me, his face brushing against mine, his breath warm and steady.

We’re quiet for a long moment, just staring at each other. His lips twitch, amusement sparking in his eyes.

“What?” he asks, his voice rough and raspy in that way I love.

I shrug, biting back a smile. “Nothing. I was just going to say your mood’s miraculously improved. That’s good for your health, you know. I’m good for your health.”

He grins, all smug and gorgeous, but then his eyes shift over my shoulder. The grin vanishes, and he groans, throwing his head back.

“What’s the matter now?” I chuckle.

“The door,” he says, his tone almost pained. “It’s wide open.”

He zips his jeans quickly and strides across the room, muttering under his breath. I can’t help but laugh as I watch him. He shuts the door with a quiet click, locking it for good measure, before returning to me.

When he comes back, I’ve already straightened my clothes. He slides his hands around my waist, lifting me off the desk and setting me down gently, like I’m made of glass.

“I take it there’s no chance we’re home alone?” I ask, amused despite myself.

He grimaces. “No. But my men know better than to invade our privacy.” He hesitates. “Still…”

“We weren’t exactly quiet,” I finish for him, my grin widening. “I’m sure they got an earful.”

He groans again, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I’m sorry,” he says, scowling like it’s his fault the entire bratva now knows what I sound like in the throes of passion.

I pat his hand, biting back laughter. “It’s fine. I’ll survive. At least now everyone knows you’re mine. Saves me the trouble of saying it.”

His eyes soften, his arms wrapping around me like he’s trying to fuse us together. “You’re going to unman me, Kat. I swear it.”

I scoff, leaning against him. “I sure hope not. I’m rather fond of your, uh, manly qualities. Trust me.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and kisses me slow, his hands sliding up my back like he can’t quite let go.

When we finally pull apart, I look up at him, serious now. “I meant what I said earlier, Nik. You’re too hard on yourself. You need to take a break. Relax a little. Let me help you. Please.”

He shakes his head, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “The last thing I want is to dump my problems on you.”

“You’re not. I’m offering my help. Willingly. Free of charge, too. That doesn’t happen often, so don’t waste it.”

He sighs dramatically, the corners of his lips twitching. “My charitable beauty. A modern-day Mother Teresa.”

I roll my eyes, smacking his chest lightly. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he says, his tone softening. “You already help me more than you know, just by being here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m great in bed. Tell me something I don’t know.” I smirk, earning a bark of laughter from him. “Seriously, though. What if I called a few of my contacts? Maybe someone’s heard something about McGuire.”

His hesitation is obvious. “I don’t want you more involved in this mess than you already are.”

“It’s just a few calls, Nik. I’m not storming his hideout with a baseball bat. What’s the worst that could happen? A little carpal tunnel?”

He huffs a breath, shaking his head. “Fine. A couple of calls. But that’s it. Don’t go above and beyond. I mean it, Kat.”

I grin. “Scout’s honor. Anything else I can do? Let me take some stuff off your plate so you can actually relax for once.”

His hands cup my face, and he presses a kiss to my forehead. “Just be safe. Stay out of trouble. And…” His lips twitch into a smirk. “A blowjob now and then wouldn’t hurt.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Consider it done.”

“And,” he says, his tone serious now, “I need you to stay here until we catch McGuire. Knowing where you are—and knowing you’re safe—will go a long way making my life easier.”

I hesitate, then nod. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, sit down and have a drink while I grab my phone and make a few calls.”

Nik raises a brow, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Look at you, giving orders now.”

I grin, rolling my eyes. “You love it.”

He chuckles but leans back in his chair, shaking his head. “Fine, boss. Go on, then.”

I turn toward the door, but something makes me glance back. Nik sits there like he doesn’t have the weight of the world pressing down on him, but I see it—the tension pulling his shoulders tight, the faint shadows under his eyes. His story about the Flame of Mir rings in my head, sharper now.

That betrayal still lingers between us, even if Nik doesn’t talk about it. Even if he forgives me, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.

And I can’t tell him the full truth. Not yet.

As much as I hate keeping secrets from him, I know Nik too well. If I told him about the stronzo , he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d go after him, even with McGuire still out there hunting him down. Nik wouldn’t stop—not with the weight of his duty to Maxim on one shoulder and his obsession with protecting me on the other.

He’d stretch himself too thin, fighting two wars at once. And the thought of something happening to him—of losing him because of me?

I can’t let that happen. Not for anything.

“Kat?” His voice pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. He’s watching me now, brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes.

I take a deep breath, forcing a small smile as I step back toward him. “Listen, I’m sorry,” I say softly, my voice trembling despite myself. “For taking the diamond. For how things started between us. You have no idea how much. If I could go back and undo it, I would.”

His jaw tightens, and he stands, closing the distance between us in two strides. His hands cup my face, warm and firm, grounding me even as my heart races. His eyes, dark and piercing, lock onto mine.

“Stop,” he says, his voice rough, unyielding. “I don’t want you to apologize. Not for this. I don’t care about the diamond, Kat. I haven’t cared about it in a long time.”

I shake my head, unable to stop the words spilling out. “You say that now, but?—

“No.” His grip tightens just enough to make sure I can’t look away. “I mean it. I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing. Not if it meant risking this— us. I wouldn’t risk losing you, Kat. Not for anything. Not for all the diamonds in the world.”

Tears prick my eyes, blurring my vision. I grab his shirt, pulling him into a kiss that’s fierce, desperate, an apology wrapped in love. His lips crush against mine, his hands tangling in my hair as if he’s trying to anchor me, to keep me from slipping away.

But as I let myself get lost in him, one thought cuts through everything else:

When Nik learns the truth—about the stronzo , about the diamond, and everything I've kept from him—will he see the love behind my lies—or only the lies?