Chapter 17

17

NIKOLAI

I t's her. My Gwen, at my bar, looking to be a dancer when she truly looks like a goddess who has descended from the heavens. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest because the minute Oscar said Gwendolyn, I knew it was her. Shit, I knew it was her when I saw her outside, but this time I had to make sure.

And now it is taking every inch of my willpower not to run down those stairs and grab her, hold her close, and inhale the sweet vanilla scent that I remember that lingers in her hair.

My eyes don't leave her body as I watch her on the security cameras in my office. She looks fucking delectable. Her wild black curls cascade down her back in perfect spirals, begging me to run my fingers through them. Her pink lips, full and plump, taunt me with their smirk, reminding me of all the times they've wrapped around my length and made me bust without savoring the velvet feel of her tongue.

But then my gaze falls on her ass, round and full, practically begging to be squeezed and spanked. Her thighs still have a sinful level of thickness that makes her jeans damn near look painted on.

And I realize that Hudson must have had a better view of it than I did from up here. The surge of anger that courses through me is almost suffocating as he laughs at something she says and his eyes linger on her curves.

How dare he even look at my girl? I should skin him alive. I never liked his face anyway; maybe I could rearrange it for him. That would help the anger coursing through my veins, or maybe a more fitting punishment for the stupid kid is for me to gouge out his eyes. That way, he can never look at her again.

I hear the low wolf whistle as Gwen does a little dance before leaving, happy that she got the job. A blush creeps up Gwen's neck, and I snarl. Fuck. Maybe I should cut out his tongue as well.

Hudson calls after her, "Don't be late, girly! I'll be waiting."

A low growl escapes my throat as I watch Gwen leave, Hudson's admiring gaze fixed on her form. She may have gotten the job at the bar, but she's mine.

My fists clench so tightly that my knuckles turn white, and I imagine smashing them into Hudson's smug face. But I know better than to let my emotions control me. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself before grabbing the keys to my Escalade and storming out of the building.

My security team is hot on my heels, but I shake them off with a stubborn shake of my head, as I trail behind her. She walks down the street and slides her headphones in her ears.

I watch her walk down the crowded street, my muscles tense and my heart racing. My gaze follows her every step, scanning for any potential threats, or if she will do that disappearing act where one moment she is nuzzling my neck and the next she disappears for the next five years. She can't do that to me again.

I flex my fingers, trying to loosen the urge to throw her over my shoulder caveman style, make her know she is mine again. The thought of any other person having what I did makes my skin scorch and my joints tight with the need to pummel said person into the ground.

My eyes never leave her body as she dances carelessly down the street, oblivious to the world around her. I can't help but feel the need to hide her from the world, keep this little piece of heaven just for me, but then a flood of shame runs through me as I think about Gwen being hidden, and I want to let her out again. I want to be selfless with her. I don't want to drag her into the depths of hell with me unless she wants to, but all that nice guy talk leaves my mind the minute a man purposely gets in her way to touch her.

I almost groan aloud when I watch her two-step into the fucker with a large smile, and she just giggles out an apology, not noticing when his eyes trail her as she walks, his eyes following her every step. My heart beats frantically like a caged animal, wanting to lash out in protection and dominance. But I force myself to keep control, running my hand through my hair in frustration as I fight against my instincts. When I pass by the man who still can't take his eyes off Gwen, I shoulder check him so hard he stumbles back.

As Gwen turns the corner and walks down Eleventh Avenue, she pulls her curly black hair into a messy bun and the scent of her sweet vanilla wafts down the street. I almost buckle at the scent, my will to keep my distance until tonight slowly faltering as she spins, her hair whipping in the wind. As she continues down the residential street, she greets everyone with a bright smile and bounces around people who don't give her the light of day. It is as if she doesn't know this is New York, and the nasty looks she gets from some people make me want to grab them by the throat and force them to bask in her light.

She skips towards one of the buildings on 34th street, a familiar building that is mostly glass and screams bachelors with too much money. She can't afford to live here if she just got a job at my club. I know this because Aleksandr owns all the buildings on this street, and the rent is fucking astronomical, but as Alek puts it: perfect for the rich douchebags that live here.

She turns to see a tall man with shaggy brown hair sneaking up behind her. Before she can react, he wraps his arms around her in a bear hug and spins her around.

Gwen's headphones fly out of her ears as she clings to the person hugging her, her wide smile lighting up her face.

She playfully squeals out, "Taylor! Put me down!"

My heart constricts and my blood boils at the sight of them together. The anger bubbling inside me is enough to make Jeffery Dahmer seem like a friendly neighbor in comparison.

Taylor finally sets Gwen down, their laughter mingling as Taylor tucks a loose curl behind her ear. She seems to beam at the interaction.

"What's got you in such a great mood, baby girl?" Taylor says, his eyes lingering on her.

"I got a job at Johanna's!" she replies, her smile softening as she looks at him.

He bends slightly, excitedly grabbing her arms. "Oh my God! We have to celebrate! "

She giggles as he spins her around, "Not too much. I have to work at 7!"

Taylor checks his watch with a smile. "That means I have three hours to get you drunk and sober you up! More than enough time." His hand intertwines with hers, and he drags her into the building. She giggles as he pulls her along.

I step forward, ready to follow them into the building, rip Gwen from his arms, and pull her right into mine where she belongs. But just as I'm about to enter the building, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I glance at the screen and see Aleksandr's name flashing.

I answer the call, my voice taut. "Yes, Aleksandr?"

"Office, ten minutes," he says, his voice curt and to the point.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "I am handling something. Can it wait?"

"Ten minutes," Aleksandr snaps, and then I am greeted by the dial tone. Fucking great.

I grit my teeth, my eyes flicking back to Gwen and Taylor as they wait for the elevator.

As much as it kills me to walk away, I turn on my heel and make my way to Petrov's office because I know, despite whatever happens in the next three hours—and if Taylor wants to live, it better involve everyone's clothes on—I'll see Gwen tonight. And after tonight, she will be mine. No one else will touch her. No one else will make her smile like that. She will be back on her throne where she always belonged.