10. Nik

10

I should be having a great time. And yet, I'm having a terrible time.

Seeing Kat again is pure bliss but also sheer torture.

I want to kill her. I need to kiss her.

Will her maddening hold over me ever end? Or at least lessen?

I'm incredibly disappointed with myself. The woman stole my most prized possession and maybe even played a hand in my best friend's murder. But somehow, I still want her just as much as before.

Last week was a blur for me. Moments after I learned of Maxim's death, my men and the Metropolitan Museum's security staff informed me that my priceless red diamond was missing.

My recollection of the aftermath—and the commotion that followed both events—is uncharacteristically dim. I suppose I was too numb and shocked then to do anything beyond go through the motions of doing what I had to do—as Maxim's next-of-kin, sole proprietor of the Flame of Mir, and the bratva's pakhan.

The time to grieve and fully surrender to my rage will come. For the time being I must set my emotions aside and perform my duties to the best of my ability. Just like the theft of the Flame of Mir, Kat is a complication I just can't afford. Maxim is dead—now more than ever, the bratva and I must not appear weak or unfocused.

It's unfortunate for me that, from the first moment I saw Kat, my carefully cultivated command over my emotions left me high and dry. She makes it impossible for me to be my usual collected, rational self. Instead, she turns me into a reckless, tempestuous fool.

I was surprised—to say the least—when a day after that eventful night, my longtime friend, Lucien Wroth, approached me with the unexpected news of Kat's involvement in the theft of the jewel.

Lucien is a very well-connected man. Now and then, I wear him down and convince him to work for me as my counselor—my sovietnik—for a period. But he never holds the position for too long. Inevitably, time after time, he comes to the conclusion that being his own boss suits him best.

My friend Lucien is a consultant of sorts. Many refer to him as the kingmaker, but he hates the moniker and strongly discourages people from using it.

He works in a very peculiar field and I'm lucky that he shares his expertise and wealth of information with me whenever possible.

Upon learning of Maxim's demise and the diamond's disappearance, Lucien used his vast network to try to help me. His search hasn't yet yielded anything of value regarding Maxim's assassination, but he provided me with the identity of the diamond thief.

I was profoundly shocked to learn that the woman who gave me the most mind-blowing sexual experience of my life was the culprit.

Unfortunately, I have no doubts about it. Lucien's investigation shows that the museum's security systems were tempered with by a very unique and specific—and, therefore, easily identifiable—electronic device.

His contacts named the apparatus's creator, who apparently has an infamous reputation in certain criminal circles. The woman, known as A.J. Michaels, is bosom buddies with Katherine Devereaux, con woman and thief extraordinaire—or Kat, as her friends call her.

That name, of course, didn't mean anything to me at first. But once I saw her picture in the dossier Lucien prepared for me, I knew she was one and the same with the irresistible girl fucked at the gala.

There are no words to describe the all-consuming rage and betrayal I felt when I learned her identity.

Lucien's investigation was extensive. He isn't a man to leave any stone unturned. Once he suspected Kat was behind the gemstone's disappearance, he deep-dived into her life, pinpointing her exact whereabouts before and after her appearance at the party.

That is why I now have piles and piles of compelling proof of Kat's role in the diamond's theft. Suffice it to say that Lucien's military contacts are unrivaled, and Big Brother is always watching.

In the days following this reveal, I tried to carry on as usual, attempting to fulfill my obligations as well as I ever have. Still, inside, I was thinking of Kat nonstop.

At first, my mind was assaulted by the pleasant memories of our heated encounter and my anger at her deceitfulness.

My rage won once Lucien admitted he didn't know for sure whether Kat had played any role in Maxim's untimely death.

I was disgusted with myself. My oldest friend lay cold and dead somewhere, while I was busy fantasizing about the feel of her soft flesh, the wet heat of her sex, and the rich blue color of her eyes. But no more—I wouldn't allow myself to be blinded by the spell she cast on me any longer.

So, I set out to track her down. It was astonishingly easy, as I knew it would be once I learned her name.

I tasked my men with discreetly tailing her from a safe distance. Day after day, they turned in pictures, videos and reports of her activities. I studied her in the many photographs and was glad to realize I felt nothing for her but contempt. Since the party, she has been happily enjoying herself, living a life of vapid luxury and leisure, while her actions have turned my life upside down.

I gave the order for her capture then. Relieved that my feelings towards her were finally acceptably rational, I felt ready to deal with her at last. I was also eager to retrieve my diamond. The Flame of Mir might be nothing but a bauble to her, but it holds sentimental value to me.

I was even eager to show her the consequences of fucking with me as deliberately as she had. Besides, it was my responsibility to find out if she is connected to Maxim's murder. It would be incredibly dumb to set out to avenge his death without a clear picture of what really went down on the night of the party.

I now know I have been an idiot.

I am an even bigger fool than I first assumed. Because I should have known better. There are no acceptable excuses for my complete disregard of her effect on me.

All along, I was perfectly aware that she has the power to bring me to my knees. All this time, I knew I can't think straight when her eyes lock with mine. Even now, I worry I won't be able to stop myself from joining her in bed.

She took from me my most precious possession. It is possible—perhaps even likely—that she is involved in the cold-blooded murder of my dearest friend. But when I walked into the room and saw her big, beautiful, deep blue eyes, I was a goner.

Again.

On the night of the party, I worried I couldn't trust her. I even acknowledged I have no room for a woman in my life, especially one who affects me as much as she does. I can't afford the weakness or the distraction.

All my misgivings and fears about her are now confirmed. Still, I struggle to care about any of that right now.

"Miss me?" I ask her, breaking the silence between us. Her expression displays a mix of horror and fear, and it pleases me.

I missed her. Until now, I thought I didn't, believing her deceit had soured the longing and attraction I felt for her. I assumed I had realized at last that I am better off without her.

But I was an idiot. After a week apart, merely seeing Kat in person brings me a lot of relief. It's almost as if I have been painfully holding in a breath the entire time we were apart. But now that we are in the same room, I can let it go, exhaling and allowing the tension I have been carrying on my shoulders to leave my body.

"Nikolai, what's going on? What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"

I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but I feel too emotionally raw to deal with her games. If she thinks that playing dumb or a damsel in distress will save her, then I have overestimated her.

"Isn't it obvious? You took something of mine, so I took you."