Chapter 10 Chapter Ten
Nikolai's POV
"Is it?" Rafael asks. I don't seem to understand him. One minute, he was okay for me to pick his fiancée from the airport, and the next minute, he wasn't okay with me around his girl.
Of course, it wasn't okay with me, I wasn’t the kind of man who liked being told what to do, especially by my father and this man called Rafael.
"No..." The word slipped out of my lips, not that I didn't want to drive her around town, but the fucking thing inside my pants, and my head wasn't helping, they were reminding me of her nudity. The moment her scent hit me all I could see when I stared at her as she walked into the dining, was her nudity, how she was standing in front of me on her birthday suit in the bathroom, how she had walk slowly to me and those nipples of her, I had salivated about it, I wanted to suck it, nibble it.
"Nikolai, oggi non hai nulla da fare, e porterai lei in giro per la città. È una decisione definitiva."
(Nikolai, you do not have what you are doing today, and you will take her around town that is final.)
"Don Alessandro..." He glared at me.
Fuck... I cursed when he suggested, no, ordered me to take Elena around the city, I almost laughed in disbelief.
“Lasciala restare a casa,” dissi freddamente, con gli occhi fissi sulla mia tazza di caffè “Non è una bambina che non può stare a casa da sola.”
(Let her stay at home,) I said coldly, my eyes fixed on my coffee cup. (She is not a child who can’t be left alone)
Mio padre non alzò nemmeno lo sguardo dal giornale. “Allora trattala come un’adulta. Falle vedere la città. Rafael è impegnato e non voglio che la nostra ospite rimanga sola.”
My father didn’t even look up from the newspaper. “Then treat her like an adult. Show her the city. Rafael is busy, and I don’t want our guest to be left alone.
“Non è la nostra ospite,” Mormorai, ma i suoi occhi si sollevarono, freddi e autoritari, e capii che la decisione era definitiva.
(She’s not our guest,) I muttered, but his eyes flicked up, cold and commanding, and I knew it was final.
Elena's eyes kept darting between my father and me as we conversed in Italian; she didn't understand anything, and Rafael was mad, but he didn't say anything because he wasn't ready to stay at home with his girl.
So here I was, behind the wheel of my black Maserati, regretting every breath of my existence. Elena sat in the passenger seat beside me, her wide eyes studying everything outside the window like she was trying to memorize the world. I could feel her presence like a warm pulse in the air too bright, too soft, too pure for someone like me.
I kept my focus on the road, jaw tight. I had no idea where to bring her; we had been going in circles without going to any actual place, so I asked. “Where do you want to go first?”
She turned her head, smiling that polite, infuriatingly sweet smile. “Anywhere, really. You don’t have to sound like it’s a punishment.”
I didn’t answer. Because it was a punishment. Babysitting the little princess my brother was supposed to marry, and the woman who was slowly finding her way into my chest because I don't think I have a heart. It was the last thing I wanted to do.
While Matteo sat in the backseat, his usual easy grin was plastered across his face. I had called him earlier when I realized that there was no escape for me, to join us in the car because I didn't want to be alone with her, I didn't know if I could stay sane for long if it was just the two of us. “I can take over the talking part if you want, boss,” he said teasingly.
“Do whatever you like,” I replied, eyes still on the road.
Matteo leaned forward, resting an arm on the back of Elena’s seat. “So, Elena, what do you think of the city so far? Not as calm as your father’s estate, huh?”
Elena laughed softly. “No, it’s different. Loud. A little scary. But… exciting.”
Her voice was like velvet, gentle but filled with life. I hated that I noticed.
While they chatted, I stayed quiet, listening without meaning to. What started with a simple conversation turned into a series of conversations. I wondered how Matteo did it. She talked about her studies, her father, her plans after marriage, her nanny who was “barely older but wiser than most adults.” Every word was another reminder that she belonged to someone else, to Rafael.
And yet, every time her laughter filled the car, something in me pulled tighter.
When Matteo mentioned Shannon, I noticed the flicker in his eyes. I remember the first day we saw her at one of Don Valkor's functions, Matteo was smitten with her. “That’s the girl who’s always around your house, right? The one who looked like she could boss the world around with a frown?”
Elena chuckled. “That’s Shannon, yes. My best friend. My sister in every way that counts.”
Matteo’s grin widened. “She’s… interesting. Feisty. I like her type.”
I threw him a sharp look through the rearview mirror, my tone flat and low. “Don’t.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I said don’t,” I repeated, eyes narrowing. “That girl is off limits.”
Matteo raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “You sound just like Don Valkor. Is there something I should know?”
My grip on the wheel tightened. I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, not even with Matteo, my right hand and closest friend. But I knew things others didn’t. Things about Don Valkor… and the little girl he was pretending to keep as his daughter’s companion.
Shannon wasn’t just the nanny. She was his weakness. The one person he would kill to protect apart from his daughter. I’d seen the way his expression changed whenever she entered a room, how his voice softened, how his hand trembled when she smiled. It was dangerous, that kind of love. Especially for a man like him.
“Don Valkor has made it clear,” I said finally, my tone clipped. “No one touches that girl. No one even looks too long.”
Matteo laughed, but there was an edge of curiosity in his tone. “Guess that explains the guards around her during that charity dinner last year. I thought it was just overprotective father instincts.”
“It’s not,” I muttered. “It’s self-preservation.”
Elena turned her head toward me then, confusion flickering in her eyes. “You know Shannon?”
I hesitated. “I’ve seen her. Once.”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “Then you know she’s impossible to ignore.”
I didn’t respond. Because she was right, not just about Shannon, but about herself too.
Every second with Elena was an unwanted test of restraint.
She shouldn’t have been this captivating. She shouldn’t have made me want to look at her, listen to her, protect her.
But when she turned to me again, sunlight spilling across her face, my chest tightened in ways I couldn’t explain.
“Thank you for driving me,” she said softly. “Even if you didn’t want to.”
That hit harder than I expected. I kept my gaze ahead, forcing my voice steady. “You shouldn’t thank me. I didn’t have a choice.”
She tilted her head, studying me for a moment longer than necessary, and Matteo shook his head. I know I shouldn't have said that, “Maybe you did.”
And damn it, for a second, I almost believed her.
I did...
I would have just walked out or maybe didn't show up for breakfast.
Matteo cleared his throat loudly, breaking the tension. “So, princess, where to next? Shopping? The gallery? Maybe something that doesn’t make our boss look like he’s being tortured?”
Elena giggled, and I forced myself to breathe.
Maybe Matteo was right. I was being tortured, just not by the trip.
By her presence, her voice, her innocence, and her fucking scent.
And as we drove past the city lights, I found myself glancing at her reflection in the window, wondering when the line between duty and desire had started to blur.
When we stopped at a red light, she turned to me, her eyes soft and curious.
“You don’t really hate me, do you, Nikolai?”
\~~~~~~
Please leave a review after reading and if you don't understand Italian, you could skip that part, you wouldn't miss anything because it's translated into English