Chapter 35 LINES DRAWN
NIKOLAI:
Anger boiled inside me the moment Jasmine walked out on me over some bullshit messages from Francesca. Obviously it was her.
I paced my room, kicking over a chair that splintered against the wall, then slamming my fist into the dresser. The pain barely registered, nothing did. I dragged a hand down my face, breathing hard, then grabbed my phone and dialled her line without even thinking about it.
She answered on the second ring.
“Well,” she said smoothly, her voice smug as ever, “I see your girlfriend received my little messages.”
My jaw tightened.
“Why did you do it, you vindictive bitch?”
“I warned you. Didn’t I?” She replied calmly. “You play with fire, you get burned.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“You don’t get to manipulate my life.”
“Oh, Nikolai,” she sighed softly. “I’m not manipulating anything. I’m simply… reminding people of history.”
“You crossed a line.”
“And yet,” she said lightly, “here we are. Goodbye, Nik.” Then she dared to end the call.
I stared at the screen for a long moment, feeling my anger surfacing even stronger than before. But eventually it faded into something heavier, frustration, regret.
I exhaled slowly and forced myself to calm down. I couldn’t let this unravel me. Jasmine was mine and I was going to fix this.
I walked down the hallway, to Jasmine’s room. I knocked once.
“Jasmine.”
But there was no response. I knocked again, harder.
“Open the door.”
Still silent.
“I want to talk. Open the damn door.”
Her voice came through the door, tight.
“Go away.”
“No.”
I pressed my hand against the wood. “Open the door.”
Still nothing.
“Jasmine.”
This time my voice carried a hint of something I rarely allowed.
“Please.”
But she didn’t answer.
The next morning, I dragged myself downstairs for breakfast. I sat at the table, staring at the untouched plate in front of me. Jasmine wasn’t there.
I looked around the staff moving about their daily activities, when I spotted Ana. I called out to her.
“Has Jasmine eaten?” I asked.
Ana nodded.
“Yes, Don. She was up early and finished about an hour ago.”
Of course she had. She was now avoiding me.
I eventually finished breakfast without tasting any of it. After, as I headed back upstairs, I saw her briskly walking down the corridor.
“Jasmine.” I called out, but she kept on going. Like she hadn’t heard me.
I walked faster. Soon I was in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped reluctantly, her eyes flashing with that fire I both loved and hated.
“Nothing happened,” I said immediately. “With Francesca.”
She didn’t react.
“She sent those messages to get under your skin. She admitted it on our call a few minutes ago. I haven’t touched her since before you.”
“Good for you,” she said flatly.
“You think I’d lie about that?”
“I don’t care, Nikolai.” she replied unfazed. “It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, throwing me off balance. I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her, to see the pulse fluttering in her neck. "No woman, not even Francesca, can take your place. You're my La Prescelta, Jasmine, the one I chose, the one who drives me insane in ways no one else ever has. You're strong, fierce, and you've gotten under my skin like no one before. I need you. I crave you every damn day."
Her eyes widened, her shock softening the anger. I'd never said anything like that to her, to anyone. But it wasn't enough. I had to go all in. "I am in love with you, Jasmine."
She froze, lips parting in disbelief.
"I love you, Jasmine," I repeated, my voice steady, and my heart pounding like it never did in a fight.
That did it. Before I could process, we were already in her room, her door slammed shut. She shoved me back onto her bed with a strength that made my blood heat. I landed on the mattress, and she was on me in an instant, straddling my hips, her mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss. She roamed my chest with her hands, pushing up my shirt to trace the tattoos inked across my skin.
"These are beautiful," she murmured against my collarbone, kissing each one, her lips trailing fire down my abs. I groaned, hardening instantly under her touch. She tugged at my belt, unbuckling it with eager fingers, then yanked my trousers down, freeing my dick. It sprang up, thick and ready, throbbing as she wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly while her mouth continued its worship of my body.
"Jasmine..." I growled, flipping us so she was beneath me, my hands stripping her clothes away until she was bare, breasts heaving, nipples peaked and begging for attention. I sucked one into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue while my fingers found her clit, circling it until she moaned and arched against me.
I positioned myself at her entrance, thrusting in deep with one smooth motion, her warmth clenching around my penis like she was made for me. We both gasped, and I started moving, thrusting in and out with a rhythm that built from tender to frantic. Her hands gripped my back, nails digging into my tattoos as she met every stroke, her moans filling the room. I grunted, driving harder, my thumb rubbing her clit while I pounded into her, the bed creaking under us.
"I love you too, Nikolai," she whispered breathlessly, her eyes locking on mine as her body tightened, pleasure cresting.
Those words shattered me. I thrust deeper, faster, grunting with each powerful movement until we both came. This time, I first, spilling all over her sheets, then she, crying out as she clenched around me. We collapsed onto the bed together, tangled and spent.
Eventually she rested her head against my shoulder. For a while, everything felt peaceful, then my phone buzzed.
I got up from the bed and pulled it out of my trouser pocket. A reminder notification flashed across the screen.
Vittorio’s three days were up.
Jasmine noticed the shift in my expression.
“What is it?”
I sighed quietly.
“Something I have to deal with.”
“What kind of something?”
I hesitated. Then I told her.
“While you were missing… I held a man named Vittorio.”
She frowned slightly.
“Why?”
“He knew things.”
“Like what?”
“Rumours, about a Soldato coming to New York the night you were taken.”
Her expression changed slightly. She blinked.
“A what?”
“A soldier,” I explained. “A trained enforcer from another family.”
She looked thoughtful.
“But I’m fine now,” she said quickly. “You don’t have to keep chasing whoever took me.”
“I do.”
“Nikolai—”
But I was already getting dressed.
“I’ll be back.”
I headed straight to the warehouse immediately. Matthew stood near the entrance when I arrived.
“He’s ready to talk,” one of the men said.
Vittorio sat tied to the chair again. His face looked hollow.
“I want a phone,” he said weakly.
Matthew handed him one. Vittorio dialled slowly, then the call connected. A man answered on the other end.
“Where the hell have you been?” the voice said, casually. “I locked up the warehouse and left the key with Veronica when I couldn’t reach you.”
Vittorio swallowed.
“Could you reach the girl?”
“No,” the man replied. “Vorns are always difficult to cage and convince.”
I couldn’t believe what I was made to hear.
The voice then continued casually. “You know what to do.”
Destroy the phone.
Vittorio nodded weakly.
“Yes.”
“Thanks for the help,” the man added. “Come by when you’re back. Veronica says your daughter misses you.”
Vittorio’s hands began shaking. He started crying.
“What’s wrong?” the voice asked.
Vittorio’s voice broke.
“Dante… I’m sorry.”
Dante Radcliffe. Soldato to the vorns.
“What?” Dante asked, confused.
But I had already heard enough. I grabbed the phone from Vittorio’s hand and smashed it against the concrete.
Then I pulled my gun. One shot echoed through the warehouse, and Vittorio slumped forward. Dead.
Matthew stared at me, not liking the news we had both just found out. “Jasmine’s the girl you’ve been looking for.”
“Elena Vorn. Daughter to the man who killed my mother… and put my father in a coma.”