Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
There’s a spark of warmth in my heart. “You’re a good man, Nikolai.”
Letting out a chuckle, he smirks. “I beg to differ.”
I’m finally relaxed and begin to feel sleepy. “What’s the blood diamond business like?”
He moves into a comfortable position beside me, and my eyes drift over his powerful body. My stomach flutters, but instantly bile douses the sensation.
I shake my head and close my eyes to focus on keeping the horrific memories under lock and key. The darkness rears up, chasing the relaxing atmosphere away and filling the air with tension.
Nikolai notices the change and whispers, “Can I hold you?”
Needing his strength, I nod. Instantly his arms envelop me, his hug like a comforting and protective blanket wrapped around me.
He holds me for a couple of minutes before he moves me to lean against him. I rest my head on his chest, and he presses a kiss to my hair.
“The blood diamond business is ruthless but lucrative. Dealing with rebels, you never know whether you’ll walk away with a shipment or have to fight for your life. They’re unpredictable and don’t play by the same rules as the bratva and mafia,” he continues to talk as if I didn’t just have a mini breakdown.
“It must be stressful.” I hesitate before I place my hand on his abs.
A week ago, I would’ve been jumping out of my skin to have Nikolai sit and talk with me.
But it’s hard to find joy with the weight of the depravity bearing down on my shoulders.
“You get used to it,” he chuckles, his chest moving against my cheek. He clears his throat, then asks, “What was your childhood like?”
I let out a deep breath. “Nothing like yours. My father was hardly home, and my mother loves her margaritas too much.”
I feel his fingers brush through my hair, the touch soothing.
“What got you into painting?”
“Art class at school.” My mouth almost curves into a smile. “I lived for the hour I got to paint.”
With Nikolai telling me about himself, I want to give him something in return. “I don’t want to take over my father’s business.” I swallow hard. “I don’t want to be at St. Monarch’s.”
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs.
I let out a bitter chuckle. “I have no choice in the matter.”
His fingers keep brushing through my hair. “You do.” He places his other hand beneath my chin and nudges my face up so I’ll look at him. “You always have a choice, but let’s step off this subject so you can relax again. Tell me about your friendship with Aurora.”
I stare into his eyes, wondering where this version of him came from. Before the ambush, Nikolai was distant and sometimes downright cruel.
But now he’s warm and caring.
Why?
Does he know?
Does he pity me?
“Shh…” he hums. “Don’t get stuck in your head. Talk to me.”
I rest my cheek against his chest again and closing my eyes, I whisper, “I’d rather hear about your life. Is there something you love to do in your spare time?”
Nikolai chuckles, “I don’t have enough spare time for a hobby.”
“That’s a pity.”
I feel him pressing a kiss to my hair, and when silence falls between us, I start to drift off to sleep. I try to fight it because I know there are only nightmares waiting for me.
Nikolai brushes his fingers up and down my back, and it doesn’t take long before I lose the battle against sleep.
Chapter 23
Nikolai
After Abigail fell asleep, I sat like a frozen statue before I dared to move her to the bed.
I spent the night holding the woman I’ve fallen unbelievably hard for while she slept like the dead.
Christ, I miss her flirtatious nature.
I miss her carefree smiles.
I miss her sass and how she always said what she was thinking with no filter.
She’s not even a shadow of her former self, and it guts me to see her struggle. I wish she would open up and allow me to help.
I’m already late for my combat class with the third-year attendees when she starts to stir. Her cheek rubs against my chest, and her arm tightens around my waist.
She lets out a contented sigh that warms my heart, but a minute later, her head pops up, and confusion tightens her features.
“Morning,” I murmur, making sure to keep my voice soft.
Her eyes dart to my face, and for a moment, there’s only surprise, but then I see terror creeping back into her irises.
She pushes away from me and sits up. Sweeping a hand over her messy hair, she whispers, “Morning.” When she climbs off the bed, she asks, “You slept here?”
“Yes.” I get up and quickly put on my boots. “Did you sleep well?”
Abigail thinks for a couple of seconds, and with surprise flashing over her face, she nods. “I did.” Her eyes dart to me. “And you?”