Chapter 43 Chapter Forty-three
Elena's POV
Shannon leaned closer, eyes narrowed as she studied the girl. She was tall, elegant, and dressed in a deep red gown that shimmered under the chandelier lights. Her hair was styled in soft curls, and she moved with the confidence of someone who knew people were watching her. This kind of woman always had a way to make every other woman feel ugly wherever she stepped. I will admit they were murmuring when Shannon and I walked in, but nowhere near this female.
“Who is she?” Shannon whispered, her brows drawing together.
I shrugged, trying to appear indifferent even though the curiosity tugged at me too. “I don’t know. Maybe one of the mafia lords’ daughters.”
Before Shannon could respond, my eyes caught movement at the entrance and all the oxygen left my lungs. Nikolai and Matteo just walked in.
And just like that, the atmosphere changed. Conversations paused. Heads turned. Even the music seemed to lower in volume. Nikolai looked… lethal. He was groomed in all black. Black jacket, black shirt, black boots. I guess black was his favorite color. In a few seconds, I had a mental note of his appearance.
It shouldn’t have been legal to look that good. I felt a smile tug at my lips before I could stop it. Admiration washed over me like a warm wave I didn’t ask for. And as if my stupid brain wanted to betray me, I remembered our last heated moment, the kiss in the kitchen, the way he suck and nibbled my nipples, how he pulled them when I wanted to keep them in check, and the almost-kiss at the mall.
My cheeks heated, my heart flipped. God, Elena, get a grip. He is Nikolai, the dangerous man, my fiancée's brother.
Shannon nudged me hard with her elbow. “Stop drooling. Rafael is looking at you.”
I stiffened instantly. My eyes darted across the room and yes, Rafael was glaring in my direction like he wanted to burn a hole through my forehead. His grip on Arabella’s waist tightened possessively.
Good, let him glare.
I straightened in my seat, lifting my chin. I tried to compose myself, but my traitor eyes kept drifting back to Nikolai. He was talking to Matteo, jaw clenched, brows furrowed slightly like he was annoyed at something. Even annoyed, he looked devastatingly attractive, then fuck, I think I saw him smirk. I stood up without thinking.
Shannon grabbed my arm, pulling me down. “Where are you going? Your father specifically asked us to stay in this section, and he is watching”
“I just want to talk to Nikolai.” My voice came out too soft, too defensive.
Shannon made a face that practically screamed, "Bad idea. Elena, think. As much as you are falling for him, that doesn't mean you should be reckless."
“I’m not falling for him,” I snapped immediately.
She raised a brow. “Right. And I’m the Queen of England.”
I glared at her. “I didn’t say I was falling for him. And I didn’t say I like him more than just a friend. He was the one that makes staying here bearable, so we are friends.”
“It’s the same thing, genius. Stop twisting the words.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but everything in me froze because Nikolai’s eyes suddenly landed on me across the room. That intense, unreadable stare locked with mine. Capture me instantly in a heated stare without words. My stomach flipped violently. I smirked just a little, the way I knew annoyed him.
Nikolai’s lips twitched. He leaned down and whispered something to Matteo. Then he grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Matteo whispered something back and Nikolai actually blushed.
Shannon exhaled dramatically. “The mafia demon is cute. Who knew?”
I smacked her shoulder. “Shut up.”
She giggled like a child. “No, really, are you falling for his charm? He might be the demon of seduction."
"Shannon," I called softly, and she giggled.
"Oh mine! Look, it's like he is coming this way.”
My heart stopped. Then started again, too fast, too loud, like a drum inside my ribs. Nikolai stepped forward, weaving through the crowd with that slow, predatory grace of his. His expression unreadable, his eyes locked on me like he had no intention of looking anywhere else. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Then the moment shattered.
The woman from earlier, the red-dress girl, appeared from nowhere, slipping right into his path. She wrapped her hand around his waist with practiced ease, pressing her body into his side as if she belonged there.
My entire body went cold.
My fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. My jaw tightened until it hurt. I gritted my teeth, struggling to stay calm, but the jealousy hit me like a punch to the chest hot, sharp, and suffocating.
The worst part? I had never felt that way, not even when Rafael walked in with Arabella. Not even close to it, the first time that I had reacted when I saw Rafael with his supposed secretary.
And that realization burned like acid. I reached for the nearest glass of wine and gulped it down in one go. It hit the back of my throat too hard, almost choking me.
Shannon gasped. “Elena! You’re not supposed to drink like that!”
I slammed the glass down a little too loudly. “I needed it.”
Shannon exhaled sharply. “Okay, drama queen, let’s take some air before you throw a knife at someone.”
She pulled me by the wrist and guided me out of the women-and-children section. Her voice was all concern, but her eyes flicked toward Nikolai and the girl with clear suspicion.
“Come on,” she muttered. “Before you do something stupid.”
But as I turned to look behind us. Nikolai and the girl were gone. Vanished like ghosts. My pulse quickened. My chest tightened painfully. I scanned the room again and again and fucking nothing. They weren’t at the bar, not near the tables, not standing by the balcony doors.
They were just gone.
The image kept replaying in my mind. Her arm wrapped around him. His body angled toward hers. Her lips close to his ear.
My stomach twisted. My imagination betrayed me instantly picturing them slipping away somewhere private, his hands on her waist, her fingers in his hair, their bodies pressed close, his lips against hers, his fingers slipping into her opening, or probably his dick inside.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the thoughts away, but they clawed back in. “Stop it,” I muttered under my breath. “Just stop it.”
But my heart wouldn’t listen. My jealousy was too loud. My curiosity is too sharp. And for the fear of God, the fear that maybe he didn’t feel anything, for me was the worst of all.
I gripped the railing near the exit, trying to steady my breathing. Shannon stood beside me, concern etched across her face. “Elena, are you okay?”
I forced a laugh. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” But my voice cracked.
Shannon didn’t call me out on it. She just sighed softly and rubbed my arm. “Don’t torture yourself. You don’t even know who she is, maybe they are just friends or family.”
“That is the problem,” I whispered. “I don’t know who she is. And apparently… I don’t know who he is with.”
My eyes kept searching the room. My pulse kept racing. And the jealousy kept burning like a wildfire I didn’t know how to put out. Then my phone pinged.
\[Where are you?\] I throw my head upwards. "Fuck we have to go back before father has my head in a tray for leaving the spot."
"You're right," she said, as soon as we turned to leave, a hand grabbed me from behind, pulling me away from Shannon. "Let me go..."