Chapter 2 Chapter Two
Elena's POV
“I’m Nikolai," he said. "Rafael's brother. I’m here to take you home.” My brows furrow. I know he said he was sending someone, but I wasn't expecting his brother.
"If you doubt it, you could call him." I parted my lips, but in an instant, I felt I lost my voice, and I had the strangest feeling that I was stepping into something I wouldn’t come back from.
I just stood there, staring at him.
He wasn’t what I expected when I imagined Rafael's brother. I had heard of him, of course. The infamous one. The shadow in every family photograph. The man whose name people lowered their voices to whisper “Nikolai Rossetti Romano...the dangerous one.” the one man that could walk into a room and silence follow. Not because he demands it but because his very presence consumes the air. He is a force that shouldn't be associated with. He is as deadly as my father.
But standing in front of me, he didn’t look dangerous. He looked… collected. Polished. The kind of calm that hides chaos underneath.
His gray eyes flicked toward my suitcase. “Is that all your luggage?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
He took the handle before I could protest, rolling it effortlessly beside him as he started toward the exit. I followed, still trying to process what was happening.
"Rafael sent you?” I asked again, because part of me couldn’t believe it. Couldn't believe that he could be turned into an errand boy. I know Rafael was older, but considering how dangerous he is, I never thought he could be told.
He didn’t look at me. “He got caught up with business. Asked me to bring you home. And like I said, you could call him if you doubt me."
My chest tightened. I know he wouldn't take my call if I called, and why is he working? When is it his birthday? Did he forget?
“Right,” I muttered, trying to mask the sting with a smile. “Of course. He is… always busy.”
Nikolai said nothing, but I could feel his gaze slide over me briefly, assessing, then gone. It made my skin prickle, like he could see straight through my pale sundress and my forced cheerfulness.
Outside, the late afternoon air was thick with heat and exhaustion. A black SUV idled at the curb. Nikolai opened the passenger door, motioning for me to get in.
“Thank you,” I murmured, climbing inside. The interior smelled faintly of leather and cedar, sharp and clean, just like him.
When he joined me in the driver’s seat, the silence stretched between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. The kind that hums with unspoken words.
"I am Elena..."
"Elena Valkor Moretti," he interrupted me. I pinched my lips, not knowing what else to say, but the silence was suffocating; I wasn't used to keeping quiet for long. “So…” I said after a moment, buckling my seatbelt. “You’re… Rafael's brother.”
He started the car, his eyes fixed on the road. “Half-brother.”
Something in the way he said it, clipped, cold, told me not to ask further. But of course, curiosity has always been my flaw.
“You don’t look much alike,” I said instead, trying to sound casual. And it wasn't a lie, if Rafael was handsome, then he is gorgeous, like a Greek god.
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, one brow arching slightly. “That’s because we are not.”
I frowned. “But you just said..."
“Same father,” he cut in, voice like steel wrapped in silk. “Different mother.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I looked out the window instead, watching the city blur by.
Rafael never talked much about his family, not like he needed to, because I know his father and his mother, but the others in the family, I have no idea about. Especially his brother. He said they were complicated. I thought he meant dangerous. Controlling. But sitting here beside Nikolai, this quiet, brooding man who carried danger like a scent, I realized complicated things didn't even begin to cover it.
He drove in silence for a while, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gearshift. Every now and then, he had a glance at me quickly, unreadable.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
He smirked faintly, eyes still on the road. “I talk when there’s something worth saying.”
“Wow,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “You would be great at parties.”
He chuckled under his breath, and the sound caught me off guard low, rich, almost warm.
“I don’t do parties, I hate the sound of laughter, especially fakes, ones,” he said.
I tilted my head. “So what do you do, Nikolai?”
The light turned red. He looked at me then, really looked, and for a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe.
“Business,” he said simply.
There was something dangerous in the way he said that word. Something final.
I didn't press.
The rest of the ride passed in silence, but my mind wasn’t quiet. Every time I glanced at him, I noticed something new: the faint frown on his jaw, the way his fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel, the slight crease between his brows, as if he were constantly at war with his thoughts.
He shouldn’t have been handsome, not in the usual sense. He was too sharp, too intense. But somehow, that made him even more so.
By the time we pulled up to Rafael's parents' mansion, my pulse was an uneven rhythm in my throat.
The gates opened automatically, and the car rolled into the wide driveway lined with trimmed hedges and glittering lights. I pressed my palms against my knees to stop them from shaking.
I had imagined this moment a hundred times surprising Rafael, seeing his eyes light up, maybe a kiss that would make the weeks apart worth it.
But as the doors of the mansion came into view, the sound of laughter drifted out loud, careless, and… wrong.
Music followed. The thump of bass, the clinking of glasses, the hum of a crowd, I felt unease.
“A party?” I whispered.
Nikolai's jaw tightened. “Apparently, but not to worry you have time to change into something nice."
I turned to him, confused. “But I thought it was somewhere else, not here. He didn't say he was..." I paused, realizing he didn't even invite me in the first place.
He didn’t meet my gaze. “Maybe he forgot to mention it.”
My stomach twisted. Rafael didn’t forget things. No details. Not me. He didn't mention it because he didn't want me here, but the stubborn me is here even when Father said I wasn't invited.
Nikolai parked near the entrance, cutting the engine. He stepped out first, rounding the car to open my door. His hand extended toward me, palm up, steady.
I hesitated before taking it. His skin was warm, smoother than I expected. Our eyes met, and for a second, I thought I saw something flicker behind his calm, concerned look, maybe?
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
No. I wasn’t. But I nodded anyway.
"Welcome, Sir Nikolai..." One of the females approached us.
"You should bring her to the room, she is Rafael's guest."
"Welcome, ma..."
"Elena... Call me Elena..." I said, and from the side of my eyes, I could see Nikolai already shaking his head and leaving us without a word.
We walked into the house together, the music washing over me. People in designer suits and sparkling dresses filled the space. A bartender poured drinks near the pool. We weren't walking directly into the party, but the entrance she had taken me through was just opposite the spot where the party was held. I caught sight of Rafael before he saw me, his arm around a woman’s waist, his face close to hers as they laughed.
My breath hitched.
Maybe I’m seeing it wrong, I told myself. Maybe it’s just a friend.
But when he leaned down and kissed her on the cheeks, soft and sure, the world tilted.
I took a step in anger, wanting to go to Rafael, when I felt a strong hand grab my forearms.
It was Nikolai.
He stopped me, his expression darkening. I didn’t realize my hand was shaking until he reached out and steadied it, his fingers brushing mine in a silent warning: Don’t make a scene.
My throat ached, but I forced a smile as if I hadn’t just watched my engagement shatter. Of course, it was shattered, if what my mind was telling me about those two was true. My eyes slow down on the engagement ring in my fingers.
Across the room, Rafael suddenly looked up and froze. For a moment I saw the surprise in his face before he masked it.
“Elena?” he mouthed, his face draining of color.
I wanted to ask Nikolai if the woman beside his brother was the business meeting he was busy with. I wanted to say something. Anything. But my voice failed me.
Behind me, Nikolai's grip tightened slightly, grounding, protective.
And in that dizzy, heartbroken haze, I realized something terrifying:
The way Nikolai looked at me wasn’t the way a man looked at his brother’s fiancée.
It was the way a man looked at something he had already decided to protect even if it meant setting the whole world on fire. "Elena... Come here." Rafael said as he stood in front of us, leaving the female behind, "You can leave... I will take it from here," He said to Nikolai, who had just let go of my forearms, nodding to Rafael. That was an asshole move.
"Nikolai..." I called and he turned, looking at me, "Thank you, I will see you there, right?" He didn't say anything before he walked away, just when he was out of sight, I turned to Rafael, wiping off that fake facade, "Who is she?"