59. Nik

Chapter 59

Nik

“Easy-peasy!” Kat whispers to herself as she slips into the dimly lit chamber, a nondescript cloth bag slung casually over her shoulder. Her delicate heels click softly against the marble floor, and she walks like she's done this a thousand times before—completely unaware of my presence.

She hasn’t spotted me yet. As far as she knows, I’m supposed to be over a hundred miles away—and I was. But the meeting wrapped up earlier than expected, so I came home, deciding to relax and wait for her to return from whatever "errand" she claimed to have.

“Did you get anything nice?” My voice cuts through the silence, echoing off the walls.

She freezes mid-step, her spine straightening like a wire. There’s a sharp intake of breath—almost imperceptible—before she slowly turns to face me, her face splitting into a too-wide grin.

“Nik,” she says sweetly, her tone far too light, her eyes darting like a cornered rabbit’s. “You’re home early, my love. What a… wonderful surprise!”

My gaze drops to the bag she’s subtly trying to shift behind her legs, and I raise a brow. “I’m sure you paid for all that,” I say dryly.

She blinks twice, like she’s debating whether to spin a tale or fess up. With a sigh, she plants her free hand on her hip. “Maybe not with money, exactly,” she says with a shrug. “But I’d argue I earned it fairly. In a way.”

My lips twitch at her audacity, but I hold my ground. “Oh, this should be good. I can't wait to hear it.”

Her eyes flick to the ceiling in mock contemplation. “Well,” she starts, “I certainly paid for it with the sweat off my back.”

I let my eyes roam over her deliberately, from the pristine waves of her hair to the polished sheen of her designer heels. Not a hair out of place, not a hint of exertion anywhere.

She rolls her eyes at my expression, flapping her free hand dismissively. “Figuratively speaking, kotyonok ,” she adds, her tone dripping with exasperation.

I sigh, tired but amused, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “So,” I say, my voice calm but firm, “who did we steal from today, Kat?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “This guy.”

“This guy ?” I echo, my voice sharpening.

She shrugs, utterly unfazed. “Yeah. A.J. said he broke her heart and told me to knock myself out as far as he was concerned. And since we owe her, like, until the heat death of the universe for saving our lives a few dozen times, I figured it was the least I could do. Just this once, of course. Plus, you were busy with work, so I thought you’d appreciate me keeping myself busy. You know, to distract myself from the unbearable torment of being away from you for, what, three hours?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Five. And I do. But I also have half a mind to turn your ass red for endangering yourself. Again.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes like I’m the unreasonable one. “Oh, please ! Nobody even saw me. The idiot won’t even notice something’s gone for months . You should’ve seen his place, Nik. Disgusting. Total pigsty. Honestly, I felt like I was doing a public service.”

I exhale heavily, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Let me see what you have,” I say at last, already knowing I’ve lost this battle.

It’s the damnedest thing—no matter how much trouble this madwoman stirs up, I can’t stay mad at her to save my life. Not when she’s standing here, all smiles and sass, lighting up our home with her chaos and charm.

This isn’t her first job since we moved in together. It won’t be her last. I know it, she knows it, and we both know I’ll let her get away with it. At this point, I’ve resigned myself to my fate—pleading with every deity listening to help me keep her safe and sound. And to grant me the patience to deal with her reckless streak without losing my sanity.

She knows she’s got me wrapped around her little finger. That’s why I had no choice but to spread the word: if even a single hair on her perfect head is harmed, someone will beg me for the mercy of a quick death before I'm through with them. And she knows it, too. Oh, does she ever. In fact, she takes full advantage of my devotion, gleefully pushing my limits whenever the mood strikes her.

It’s maddening.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, her earlier misgivings about the violence in my life seem like ancient history now. Once she realized she could weaponize my unhinged, overprotective tendencies against anyone who wronged her—or even mildly annoyed her—it was over. And, much to her delight, nothing makes me happier.

She saunters over to me, practically skipping across the marble floors before plopping her bouncy ass on my lap. Barely containing her grin, she thrusts the bag toward me like she’s presenting a trophy.

Curious, I peek inside. A kaleidoscope of gemstones stares back at me—diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, even a few blood-red rubies. My eyebrows shoot up.

Her amused expression says she’s been waiting for this reaction. With a nonchalant shrug, she says, “What can I say? He and I are in the same line of work. Guess there’s some truth to that saying about no honor among thieves.”

I whistle low, shaking my head as I return the loot. “Not bad, kiska . Not bad at all.

“Right?” she says, her grin widening. “What can I say? It’s not much, but it’s honest, dishonest work.”

“Speaking of honest work,” I say, my voice as innocent as sin itself, “did you give any thought to my suggestion about changing careers?”

She gasps, one hand flying to her chest in mock outrage, like she’s about to clutch invisible pearls. “Excuse me?!”

“I’m just saying,” I continue, ignoring her dramatics, “charity work could be a good use of your time. It’s not like you need to take on any more jobs. I’ve got more money than even you could ever spend.”

“Is that a challenge?” she shoots back, her eyes narrowing. “Because it sounds like a challenge.”

I fight the smirk threatening to break free. “And who knows?” I press on, my tone all too casual. “Mentoring young girls with a knack for trouble? I feel like that could be your calling. Just saying—it seems fitting.”

She narrows her eyes further, jabbing a finger at me. “You’re teasing me,” she accuses, shaking her head, her lips twitching despite herself.

I laugh softly, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “Unless, of course, you agree with me.”

She scoffs, slapping my shoulder lightly. “Can you imagine?” she says, her voice dripping with faux horror. She nibbles her bottom lip like she’s genuinely considering it, then shakes her head, shuddering dramatically. “Me? Gainfully employed, doing good , old-fashioned honest work ? No, sir. Absolutely not. I’ll just donate an ungodly amount of your money to those imaginary sweet girls you’re so worried about.”

I lean in close, my voice dropping. “Call me ‘sir’ one more time, and I won’t bring it up again.”

Her eyes sparkle mischievously, but she rolls them anyway, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my lips. Her lips are warm, soft, intoxicating, and all they do is wake the hunger I’ve been keeping on a tight leash all day. God, it’s been too long since we’ve fucked. At least six hours now…

But just as my arms tighten around her, drawing her closer, she pulls back, leaving me groaning in protest. Her grin is unapologetic, her voice far too sweet. “So,” she says, ignoring my obvious desperation, “how did your meeting go?”

Patrick McGuire and I have been meeting off and on for months. After the whole Salvatore mess, he finally realized the bratva and I had nothing to do with his daughter’s disappearance. Now, we’re working together to find her. If nothing else, it’s a gesture of good faith.

And I owe it to Maxim. He’d want me to take care of Erin. I can’t ignore that—especially since I still haven’t figured out where his remains are.

Kat pushed for a memorial service. At first, I wasn’t on board. Burying an empty casket felt hollow. But, as always, she was right. It was time. Even if it was purely symbolic, it gave me the closure I needed to finally move on. To start fresh with her.

“It went… fine,” I say with a sigh. “Which means it was a waste of time, but at least McGuire and I didn’t pull our guns on each other. This time.”

“Attaboy. Baby steps,” she teases, patting my chest like I’ve won a gold star. Then, more softly, she adds, “You’ll find Erin. And Maxim. You’re doing everything you can, Nik. That counts for something.”

I let out a long breath. “Doesn’t feel like it most days.”

She slides her arms around my neck and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know. But I also know you. You’ll figure this out—you always do. Before you know it, it’ll just be another thing to add to your never-ending list of accomplishments.”

“My biggest accomplishment,” I say, giving her ass a firm squeeze, “is being loved by you.”

She smirks, her eyes sparkling. “And I’ll never let you forget it.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Don’t I know it.”

Her smile dims as something more serious creeps into her expression. I know what’s coming before she even open her mouth.

“Did you see him?” she asks softly.

I nod, my throat tightening. “Yeah. Lorenzo was there too.” My brow furrows. “Apparently, they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Talking. Or so it seems.”

After Giuseppe Salvatore— the stronzo , as Kat prefers to call him—got what was coming to him, his nephew Lorenzo took over. The kid’s a massive improvement over his uncle. Lorenzo never shuts up about how Giuseppe was only an uncle by marriage, though, like it somehow clears him of guilt by association.

Still, I can’t help but respect him. He’s trying. He hates being the new don —he’d rather party his life away than deal with politics—but he’s doing what he has to do. He’s been working to bring order to the chaotic ranks of the Italian family. I don’t envy him—he has his work cut out for him. But he’s made of better stuff than Giuseppe ever was, I’ll give him that.

“How’s he doing?” Kat asks quietly, and I know she’s not referring to Lorenzo.

“Dmitri is…” I exhale sharply. “He’s not doing great, Kat. Barely even looked at me this time. It’s like I wasn’t there. It’s like I don’t exist. When he does speak, it’s only to ask about her.”

The girl. After Salvatore’s death, we found her in a state I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. We got her out of there, took her somewhere safe, and tried to help her recover, but... it's complicated. To put it mildly. Let's just say—Kat and I understand now why Dmitri never wanted to talk about her. Months later, she’s still a wreck, but Dmitri… Dmitri’s somehow worse.

His betrayal hit me harder than I thought possible. But even after all of it, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. The only alternative had been to lock him up—not in a government facility, of course. We handle these internally. It was supposed to be temporary, just until I figured out what to do with him.

But every time I visit him, he’s worse. Keeping him away from the girl is killing him more slowly and painfully than any bullet ever could. He’s slipping further every day, and I can’t shake the fear that someday I’ll look into his eyes and see nothing of the person I used to know.

Kat sighs, a faint pout pulling at her lips. “Poor Dmitri. I wish there was something else I could do.”

I run a hand over her back, trying to ease her worry. “I know, kiska . I do too.”

For a moment, she stares blankly ahead, lost in thought. Then, just like that, she shrugs, turning back to me with a small smile, as if deciding to let the subject drop. Kat’s always been good at that—pushing past the heavy stuff, even if it’s just for a little while. It’s one of the things I love about her—how she can shrug off the weight of it all, even if it’s only for a moment.

“After you left this morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about the night we first met,” she says, her voice soft but teasing. “It was a night neither of us could’ve guessed would change everything. Forever.” With a playful glint in her eyes, she leans in, brushing her lips lightly against mine. “Bet you didn’t even know what hit you when you first saw me across that room.”

I chuckle, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It was the stuff of legends, Kat. The earth moved. Even if I live to be a hundred, I’ll remember exactly how you looked that night—and the chaos you brought into my life. You stole my diamond and my heart, and somehow, I’m better for it.”

“And now you’ve got both—me and your diamond.”

“Speaking of which…” I stand, gently lifting her from my lap and settling her onto the chair. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Her brows knit in confusion as I cross the room to where my suit jacket hangs. Fishing through the pockets, I find the small velvet box I’ve been carrying for months right where I left it. My fingers close around it as my heart starts to race.

When I turn back, she’s watching me intently, her curiosity written all over her face. “What are you doing?”

I take my time walking back, savoring the moment. Holding out the small box, I say, “This belongs to you.” My voice drops, thick with emotion. “I’ve been dying to give it back ever since the day you threw it at me. I’ve carried it with me all this time, waiting for the right moment to return it to its rightful owner.”

Her eyes widen as I kneel in front of her. The small gasp she lets out sends a rush of warmth through me. “Nik?—”

“Kat,” I begin, my heart pounding so hard it’s a miracle I can get the words out, “I’ve been yours from the moment I first saw you. I’d do unspeakable things to make you mine—forever. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and no one I love, cherish, or trust more. I never want to be apart from you again. You’re everything. Please make me the happiest man alive. Marry me, Kat.”

I flip the box open to reveal the ring inside—the Flame of Mir, set in a design I had custom-made for her. It’s a piece I commissioned just days after she stormed into my office and hurled the gemstone at me. Back then, I didn’t know if she’d ever forgive me, let alone love me. But even then, I knew there was only one acceptable fate for the diamond.

Her eyes fix on the ring, her breath catching. “Is that… is that the Flame of Mir ?

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Nik, this is the most stunning ring I’ve ever seen. It’s scandalous. Outrageously extravagant.” A delighted laugh bubbles out of her. “But—oh, Nik—I love it. It’s perfect.”

“So… does that mean you’ll marry me?” I ask, barely daring to breathe.

She looks from the ring to my face, her expression shifting from amazement to exasperation to something so tender it nearly undoes me. “Of course I’ll marry you! I love you. Marrying you is a no-brainer.”

Relief crashes through me as I slide the ring onto her finger before she can change her mind. She stares at it for a moment, then suddenly launches herself at me. We tumble to the floor, my laughter ringing out as she peppers kisses across my face and neck.

“Nikolai Stefanovich,” she murmurs against my skin, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re the man of my dreams. The love of my life. The answer to every prayer I’ve ever whispered. You’re more than I ever dared to want—you’re everything I’ll ever need. Being loved by you is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. And marrying you? Nothing could make me happier. I love you, you know—always and forever.”

Her words make my throat tighten. “I’ll never get over hearing you say that,” I manage, my voice rough.

Her eyes sparkle, a playful glint shining through her tears. “Good, because I’ll never stop saying it.”

“Maybe someday, you’ll love me as much as I love you,” I tease, brushing my lips against her temple.

She scoffs, cradling my face between her hands. “I already do. Scratch that—you can’t possibly love me as much as I love you. I’m positive I love you more.

Her body shifts against mine, and every nerve in me sparks to life. The way she feels, the way she smells—it’s intoxicating. “In your dream, maybes,” I murmur, my voice dark with want.

Her gaze drops to my lips, and a sultry smile curves her mouth. “Speaking of dreams,” she whispers, leaning closer, her breath warm against my skin. “I think it’s time we seal the deal.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Still, I grin, unable to resist pushing her just a little further. “Only if you ask me nicely.”

Her smile deepens, her eyes turning darker. Her lips brush against mine, a whisper away. “Kiss me, Nik. Kiss me, and I’m yours.”

I don’t need to be told twice.