5. Nik

5

"Relax," I tell Kat, who has gone rigid next to me. "It's just Dmitri."

She exhales in relief, and my chest tightens a little in response.

This is on me. I put her in danger.

Dmitri's silver car comes to a stop next to us in front of the serendipitously empty house. It's impossible to discern any of his features through the vehicle's blacked-out windows, but it doesn't matter. I recognize his car just the same. It means Vladmir survived long enough to follow my orders and send Dmitri my way. With any luck, Vlad has lost the Irish soldiers by now.

Wordlessly, I open the backseat door to Kat, gesturing for her to get inside the vehicle. She complies, sliding into the car with no complaints.

"Let's go," I say to Dmitri as I sit beside him. He does as he's told. Once he pulls out onto the main road, he glances at me, then at Kat.

"Are you guys doing fine?" he asks, eyes swerving from the side mirrors to the rearview one, attentively surveying the road for any signs of McGuire's men.

I nod in reply, but Kat only shrugs, staring off into the distance through the window.

Dmitri exhales with a sigh. "Thank God. How do you want to do this, Nik?"

"Do what?" I ask, watching Kat through my side mirror. I can't really see her face as she watches our surroundings, lost in thought, which means I can't discern her emotions. Is she scared? As the adrenaline wears off, she's bound to feel exhausted. She's probably regretting the day she had the misfortune of crossing paths with me.

"Take out McGuire, of course," Dmitri says, exasperated.

With a frown, I glance at him, still studying Kat from the corner of my eye.

Dmitri is clearly in a heightened emotional state if the way his pale blue eyes frantically scan the sides and back of the road is any indication. His skin is tinted with a flush from exertion, and his dark blond hair is a mess. It's obvious that his usual composure is long gone.

I can't help but sigh, rubbing a hand over my closed eyelids. Suddenly, I feel exhausted, and I can't even blame it on the effects of the adrenaline rush wearing off. Is there anyone I haven't failed today? I didn't keep Kat safe. I couldn't even manage to protect the bratva's interests. Now, I realize I also failed my most loyal friend.

Dmitri's always so calm, cool, and collected that I sometimes forget how young he is. For all his bravado, he's been fairly sheltered and protected since he started working for me—or at least as much as anyone working for the bratva could have been.

It was so easy for me to keep him relatively safe when there were no significant threats. I just don't have the heart to make him grow up too fast, especially considering everything Maxim and I went through when we weren't much younger than he is now.

"Dmitri, McGuire is not your concern," I say.

Dmitri glares at me as if I've suddenly started speaking in tongues. "What do you mean, he's not my concern? He tried to kill you, Nik. You're my pakhan. It's my duty to take him out."

"I'll handle him myself. You'll stay out of this. You'll be needed elsewhere. Besides, I'm not ready to accept we're going to war with the Irish just yet."

Dmitri scoffs. "That ship has sailed, Nik."

"Maybe," I concede. "But I'm not ready to throw the towel just yet. If there's any way we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I'm duty-bound to try it."

Dmitri sighs. For a naively hopeful moment, I think he's dropping the matter. But that's just wishful thinking, of course.

"Here's an idea," he says. "Why don't I drop you and Kat off at home before circling back to take care of McGuire myself? I'll bet you dollars to donuts that it's pure chaos back at his fucking beach house. I can probably sneak in, off him, and get the fuck out of there before anyone even realizes what's going on."

I shut him down without a second thought. "That's the most brain-dead thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth. Absolutely not."

"Why the hell not? It's about time we give that fucker his due. And you could still avoid war with his men. You'll just tell everyone I acted on my own and exile me to Siberia like you did with Maxim. Or we'll fake my death or something of the sort."

Boys and their bravado…

"Over my dead body, Dmitri," I say, raising my voice at him as I start to lose my patience. "I'll be damned before I have you or anybody else doing my dirty work for me. Or taking the fall for me. And I won't sentence you to certain death or a life of misery in exile."

Dmitri has the nerve to roll his eyes at me. "Oh, come now, Nik. Be reasonable about this. Just think about it."

"No. I won't say it again, Dmitri. Don't test me on this," I warn him in a tone more assertive than I remember ever using with him.

The sight of him so deflated, especially when he means well, pains me. It's an idiotic idea, of course, but he's coming from a place of loyalty to me and the bratva.

"Yes, sir," he agrees as meekly as I have ever heard him.

I sigh again. In a gentler tone, I add, "I won't have McGuire killing anyone else I care about, Dmitri. I'll handle him myself."

"Just like you, I have a duty here, Nik. McGuire came after you. You can't expect me not to do anything about it. After everything you've done for me and my mom, you know I can't just let this go," he pleads, his voice rising an octave.

"Dmitri, my word on this is final. You'll do as you're told, or so help me God, I'll teach you a lesson I should've taught you a long time ago."

Dmitri stares at me in shock. I don't blame him. He's never heard me speak to him like this. Vladmir's right. I've been too soft on him. For the first time in the decade Dmitri and I have known each other, there's no rueful amusement or even tolerance in my tone as I respond to his challenge to my authority.

Suddenly, Kat's clear voice interrupts our tense back-and-forth. "Hey, are you guys hungry? Because I'm starving. I think we should order some takeout when we get home. I don't know about you two, but I'm craving some Chinese."

It's obvious she's trying to lighten the mood and shield Dmitri from the worst of my temper. I scowl at her through the rearview mirror, and she smiles at me, wholly unconcerned.

"I'm fine with Chinese," Dmitri says through gritted teeth. "Didn't that cheap fuck have any food at his shitty party?"

"I'm sure he did," Kat says, shrugging. "But I was too busy to grab a bite. Our boss is an unreasonably demanding guy, as you know well."

I narrow my eyes at her through the mirror, and the little minx has the nerve to blow me a kiss.

Dmitri chuckles under his breath. Mostly for her benefit and out of politeness, I'm sure. "I'll plead the fifth on that one, Kat," he says.

Kat perks up at his amused tone, pleased at her success at lightening the mood and cheering him up. As I watch her, I can't help but smile a little.

"Oh, come on," Kat says. "You can tell us whatever's on your mind, Dmitri. Whatever you do, you probably won't piss him off as much as I have today. Trust me."

"Now I'm curious. What did you do this time?" he asks, eyeing her through the rearview mirror.

"Let's just say Nik was already feeling pretty on edge by the time I rammed his car against McGuire's gate. Twice. Or thrice. I wasn't keeping count." She sighs before smiling at me. "You should've seen his face, Dmitri."

He laughs, the tension in his shoulders slowly dissipating with each chuckle.

"All he would've seen was the expression of a man who's realized he's been hustled. I was promised a world-class burglar. All I got was a girl with too much sass for her own good and who can't even figure out how to open a garage door," I say, my eyes never leaving hers through the car's mirror.

Kat raises her eyebrows, but there's an amused glint in her eyes when she says, "Well, that says more about you than it does about me, miliy. If memory serves me, I was good enough to steal from the big, bad pakhan himself—right under his nose—and get away with nothing but a slap on the wrist."

I smirk at her. "Your recollection and mine vary wildly, Kat. I do recall a slap, but it certainly wasn't on your wrist."

Kat gasps, feigning outrage. But even as she pouts, acting incensed, her eyes sparkle with unmistakable humor.

Dmitri whistles before chuckling. Mid-laugh, his head snaps in Kat's direction like a whip. "Hang on, what did you just call him?" he asks her, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Kat shrugs in answer.

Dmitri turns to me, breathlessly and dramatically widening his eyes. "Did I just hear her call you miliy? Please say yes. I did, didn't I?"

My only response is a sigh as I roll my eyes because I know where this is going.

"Where did you learn that word?" he asks her.

"Online, of course," she says in a casual tone. "I learned the term is the male equivalent of the word milaya when I looked that one up. Nik wouldn't tell me what it meant even though he kept calling me that, so I had to figure it out myself, you know."

Somehow, Dmitri's eyes grow even wider. He's frozen in place for a second before erupting in laughter. "Oh, man," he manages to say between howls of laughter, wiping at the corner of his eyes. "Thank you, Kat. Thank you so much. You just made my week. Oh, gosh. I can't believe my ears. Nikolai Stefanovich lets you call him miliy because he calls you milaya."

"Dmitri…" I say in warning, but my heart isn't in it, and he knows it. As usual, he disregards me completely.

"No one's going to believe me," he says with a groan, still chuckling. "I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen his expression just now."

"Since we are on this subject," Kat says, "I'd like to run some Russian words by you, Dmitri. For starters, what does kiska mean?"

Dmitri's jaw goes slack as his eyes widen again. "Does he call you kiska, too?" he asks her. "Please tell me he calls you kiska."

Kat nods. "Yes. Mostly when we're in the middle of?—"

"Enough," I say with a grunt. "This conversation is over."

Of course, they both disregard my command entirely.

"Well, what does it mean, Dmitri?" Kat asks.

With a delighted smile, the jackass obliges her. "Kiska, my dear Kat, means kitten," Dmitry says. After sighing, he turns to me before quietly speaking in Russian under his breath.

"Hey!" Kat says "Not fair. English, please and thank you."

You've got it bad, my friend.

That's what the impertinent sod whispered to me.

He has no idea.

With a dangerous glint in her dark blue eyes, Kat scoots forward in her seat until her face is right next to mine. "Kitten, huh?" she says, teasing me with a smirk.

"Don't let it get to your head," I say, trying to play it cool. The moment she fully realizes her hold over me, I'm ruined.

Unimpressed by my dismissive tone, she rolls her eyes before turning to face Dmitri. "You know, Dmitri, Nik here talks a big game, but he was so mad at Vladmir for daring to touch me that he smashed the poor man's hand."

Dmitri glances between Kat and me in disbelief. "Holy shit," he says with a loud gasp. "She's serious. You did." He howls with laughter. Again.

I disapprovingly shake my head at her.

"What?" she asks. "You did."

"You're making me sound like a simpering idiot," I say, halfheartedly complaining.

With a cute pout, she shrugs. "Well, if the shoe fits, Nik…There's no shame about it." She winks at me before leaning forward and kissing my cheek.

Simpering idiot that I am, I'm instantly mollified, my reputation be damned.

Dmitri can't stop laughing, shaking his head. Somehow, he brings us back home.

He's still chuckling as he parks in my garage.

As the elevator doors open up at the penthouse, he breaks into a new laughing fit.

"Enough," I say. "We have work to do. If you can manage to curb this moronic giggling, I'll find you a way to make yourself useful."

"Yes, sir," he says, trying to contain his laughter.

"And you—" I say, turning to face Kat. "I'll deal with you later. Stay out of trouble until then."

"Aye, aye, captain." She winks at me, strolling towards the kitchen.

I don't miss the amused glance she and Dmitri exchange between themselves, but I let it go for now.

Soon, Dmitri's amusement dies, anyway. I'm relieved to learn Vladmir made it back safely, but as we set out to prepare for what's coming our way, Dmitri's uncontrollable giggling becomes a distant memory. We all know shit is about to hit the fan, and it might be a while before any of us has a reason to laugh again.

After hours of planning and preparation, I'm slightly less stressed out about our security situation. I won't make the mistake of underestimating McGuire again. With our plans and their orders in place, my men disband.

Not long after, I set out to find Kat. After wandering around the penthouse with no success, I call her name. She responds from inside the kitchen. I follow the sound of her voice and stop short at the sight that welcomes me.

I'm sure my astonishment is clear on my face as I take in the surprise. "You've waited to eat with me," I say, stupidly stating the obvious.

Kat shrugs, pouring me a glass of red wine. From the most expensive bottle in my collection, of course. "I figured you'd be just as hungry as me."

While I worked, Kat pulled out all the stops. She dimmed the kitchen lights and set out candles. She even ordered the Chinese food she mentioned she was craving.

"Did Vladmir make it back okay?" she asks, handing me the wine glass.

With a nod, I take the offered glass.

She sighs with relief. "Thank God. Now, let's sit down and eat, shall we? I'm famished."

I do as she asks, and we eat in comfortable silence. Except for the soft jazz music she has playing as background noise. Now and then, my hand brushes hers as I reach for one of the takeout containers, and her eyes meet mine, as deep and blue as the ocean. She smiles, and it takes almost all that I have in me not to have her over the fucking kitchen island.

But her day has been incredibly challenging, and I don't want her to be exhausted and emotionally drained if we take things in that direction again. Who am I fooling? When we do.

So I behave myself, even though it physically pains me to restrain myself at this point. I feel as if I've been mercilessly edging myself for days—constantly being brought to the brink of climax, just to be frustratingly brought back down to earth. Over and over again.

But as Kat smiles at me and plays with the fingers of my outstretched hand, I don't even feel frustration. Unexplainably, I feel almost content.

It's an unsettling thought, but Kat soothes me.

"Here," I say with a weary sigh, reaching for the handgun tucked in the back of my pants. "I want you to have this."

Curious, she glances at it, gasping in surprise when she identifies the object. She doesn't immediately reach for it, looking at me with confusion.

"It's untraceable," I say. "Go on, take it."

"Why?" she asks, still taken aback. Reluctantly, she grabs it, holding it carefully in her hands.

"I want you to have it. Do you know how to use it?"

Kat gives me an insulted look. "Of course I know how to use it. Just because I don't like guns, it doesn't mean that I don't know how to use them."

"Good," I reply with a nod. Then, before I can think better of it, I add, "I meant what I said before, Kat. I'll protect you with my life. My men will do the same. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're never again in a position where a gun might be useful. But as you've pointed out, trouble seems to follow you disturbingly often. I don't want you to rely on others for protection. Whatever I can do to make sure you'll never feel helpless again, I'll do it."

Kat stares at me, her expression indecipherable. Then, without warning or preamble, her lips are on mine. Her kiss is hot and hard, and a groan escapes me as she wraps herself around me. As suddenly as it starts, it stops. The maddening woman untangles herself from me breathlessly.

"What was that for?" I ask her, confused and panting.

With a sigh, she says, "You have to stop doing stuff like that."

Even more puzzled, I ask, "Like what?"

"Like that. Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. Do you know how hard it is to control myself all the time when I'm around you twenty-four-seven? I'm so tired of resisting you."

That shuts me up pretty quickly.

"Then, don't."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Shut up."

"Come here and make me," I dare her. I beg her.

"That's probably a bad idea. Unless we're ready to go all the way…"

Kat and I stare at each other for a long while. She stretches her hand to trace the edges of my lips slowly. I'm careful not to move a muscle. Too soon, she drops her hands. She shakes her head, and I sigh.

Too bad.

"A goodnight kiss, then," I bargain.

After studying me for a second, Kat smiles, biting her bottom lip. This time, she nods, and I smile at her in triumph. She closes the distance between us and whispers, "I don't think I'll ever be able to resist you when you smile at me like that."

I give her a puzzled look, but she just shakes her head before softly pressing her lips to mine. The sweet torture of their velvety feel almost undoes me. While sinking my fingers into the silky luxury of her hair, I draw her closer. Again, too soon, she pulls away.

"Sweet dreams, Nik," Kat whispers as she leaves me, hard and wanting.