Chapter 28

28

GWEN

T he first night, I kicked Nikolai out of my room. He had the nerve to pout, his sharp eyes narrowing as he assessed me, gauging how serious I was. But he listened—probably calculating that letting me win this small battle would just ensure his victory in the long run. He left, but not without a final glance over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips like he knew I'd eventually come crawling back. I hated that he was probably right.

After the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed onto the bed, curling into a ball. I gnawed at the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, the metallic tang mingling with the guilt gnawing at me even more ferociously. The guilt felt like a weight pressing down on my chest—suffocating, relentless. Because even if Nikolai knew, in some twisted way, that we were on the same side—both of us fighting for a version of "us"—he'd still see me as the enemy.

He didn't realize the real battle wasn't against him, but against demons from my past. Against Mason. I was the only one with the vantage point to keep everyone safe, even if it meant locking myself up in this castle built from my father's debts. But how could he ever understand that when I was hiding so much from him?

I barely slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd see flashes of what I was doing to him—hiding his children, pretending to be someone I wasn't, making him believe I didn't want him. And for what? Just to buy time so I could pay off Mason and disappear? The logic was sound, but the emotional toll was unbearable.

The second night, I fell asleep on the couch before Nikolai got home from a business meeting. I woke up wrapped in a cream blanket, my head resting on his lap, his hand halfway through a caress in my hair. He was fast asleep, looking almost innocent. In the morning, I told him I counted that as a night of him not being in my room. He playfully said he should've let me freeze on the couch.

Later, Taylor called, threatening to file a missing persons report if I didn't respond. I joked that Prince Charming had stolen me away to his dragon's lair, but Taylor didn't find it funny. He demanded lunch on Sunday, and now I have no idea how to tell Nik without him insisting on tagging along to sulk through the meal—or worse, threatening Taylor for daring to touch what he considers his.

Tonight, I decided to keep myself occupied with logic exercises from the LSAT, sitting cross-legged on the plush cream rug in my room. It was the kind of challenge that distracted me from counting the five grand I'd saved up—cash hidden away in secret compartments, safely out of Nikolai's sight. At this rate, I could be done paying off Mason in four, maybe five years. By then, the twins would be eight or nine. I'd be in my mid-thirties. Would Nik still wait for me? Maybe I'd dramatically reveal our kids to him on their sixteenth birthday—or leave a note explaining everything once I'm long gone, escaping to California to avoid his wrath. A wrath that only grows the longer I keep this secret.

But deep down, I know I'm playing a dangerous game. Nik is patient, but that patience has limits, and every day I keep this secret will chip away at the trust he's already unsure of. It's like a time bomb ticking away, and I can't help but wonder how much longer I have before everything explodes.

"Fuck," I growl when I realizing that I did the math wrong. I lean back into the plush carpet, wishing Nik would have let me work at Johanna's tonight; maybe then I could blow off some real steam.

Surprisingly, Nikolai hasn't stopped me from working at Johanna's, though he hovers around the bar area 90% of the time and refuses to let me take private shows where the real money is. He even joked that if I was that desperate for cash, he'd pay for a dance himself. But that's the thing—I want to tell him sooner than in five years. That's why I've been pushing to work every night shift I can.

When Nik wasn't dragging me into dark corners to fuck me senseless, the customers tipped well—surprisingly well, considering they were Wall Street types who assumed money could buy anything, even people. But at least they weren't as handsy as you'd expect, probably out of fear of Nik. That was one perk of being his girl, I guess. It gave me just enough room to breathe while I silently counted every dollar, inching closer to freedom with every shift. So that me and him had a real chance in hell together, not this pretend shit we were doing now .

A soft knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts. My heart jumps to my throat, half-expecting it to be Nikolai, but it's not. When I open the door, I'm met with Mary, Nik's maid—a woman in her late fifties with kind eyes, bright red hair and a politeness that is in direct opposition to Nana which only makes me miss her more. She offers me a small, tight-lipped smile and a hot pink box with a large sage green bow on it in her hands.

"Ms. Gwen," she greets politely, stepping further into the room. "Mr. Petrov asked me to bring this to you."

I blink at the box, my annoyance and reluctantly my excitement spiking. "What is it?"

She carefully places the box on the bed, her hands smoothing over the satin ribbon before stepping back. "It's an outfit he's chosen for you for tonight." She wiggles her eyebrows along with a note.

Of course, it was. Typical Nik, always trying to control everything, including what I wore. I already feel my temper rising, my jaw clenching as I move to open the box.

I gently remove the neatly folded note from the box and set it aside on my bed before finally looking at the dress inside. My breath catches in my throat as I take it all in. The gown is a stunning creation, floor-length and black with subtle sparkles that catch the light perfectly. The material is sleek, elegant, and undoubtedly expensive - the kind of dress you'd see on a red carpet.

As my fingers brush against the soft fabric, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. It reminds me of the dress I wore on our first date - the one that drove Nik wild all night long. I can feel his heated gaze once again as my hand traces the same slit that he couldn't keep his eyes off of. He knows exactly what he's doing by choosing this dress for me. I take a deep breath placing the dress back in the box, and turning my attention back to the note.

I snatch it up, unfolding the paper with an aggravated flick of my wrist.

Get dressed, Kotik. We have plans for you to be in my bed tonight. Don't keep me waiting.

I crumpled the note in my fist, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Nik's bossiness was infuriating, as much as his knack for romantic charm. It was like every time I thought he was the most romantic guy in the world, he tried to exact power over me and show that he had the upper hand. What Nik didn't know is that his romantic gesture was so telling of how much I drove him wild.

Mary clears her throat, clearly sensing the tension as a devious smile spreads across my lips. "If you need any assistance, Ms. Sharp?—"

"I don't," I cut her off, my tone sharper than I intended. She sighs sharply, and I feel a twinge of guilt, but I quickly brush it aside with a large smile on my face as I turn to her. "Tell Mr. Petrov I will be ready in an hour. I am going to knock his socks off."

A brighter smile crosses Mary's face, and I pity the admiration dancing in her eyes. She doesn't know that I intend to bring Nik to his knees tonight. If he wants me to look good for him, I will look drop dead fucking gorgeous.