Chapter 44 Chapter Forty-four
Nikolai's POV
I didn’t want to come to this party. In fact, I had every intention of staying home, drinking something strong enough to burn my throat, and ignoring every call from every mafia idiot who thought I cared about social gatherings. And above all, forget about Rafael and his little, naughty brat of a fiancée.
My father had been planning this since the beginning of the month, but I didn't care. I told him I wasn't coming. But then father asked Don Moretti to stay back for the party, yet again, I expected the man to decline because his family had never attended any mafia party, but then again, the man surprised me. He agreed.
And just like that, my plans changed. I'm dressing up to attend a party. A party, I told myself it wasn’t because of her. I told myself it was strategy, politics, obligation, anything but the truth.
The truth was dangerous.
The truth was Elena Valkor Moretti made me feel things I had no business feeling. She makes me want to do things that I never thought I could do to my brother. I know I loathe my brother, but never had it cross my mind to just snap his head off his body, but fuck earlier when he threw punches at me, I had pictured all the evil things I could do to him to stop his existence.
Only God knows what I would’ve done to him, if that smart little Shannon hadn't mentioned Don Moretti. Yes, Elena was right, I was scared of her father, the man was the only one, I was scared of, not even my father could inflict fear on me like that man.
I should stay away, but no, that stupid thing inside my head seems to be going ballistic every time Elena's scent reaches my nostrils. I don't do parties but twice I've attended one all because of her.
Shit! That girl really stitched her way deeper than I thought.
“So Shannon is going too,” Matteo asked casually while buttoning his shirt in the mirror, like he wasn’t saying something explosive. I had told him that Shannon would arrive at the mansion earlier with Elena's father and his girlfriend.
I shot him a look. “Yes, and what is it to you?”
Matteo grinned. “Because I want to see her. Obviously.”
Of course. Matteo had a crush on Shannon, the girl who belonged to Don Moretti’s circle. Even if I tell him to stay away from her, the idiot wouldn't listen. Maybe he was on a death wish because I don't see how difficult it is to understand the word stay away. And on their first encounter, Moretti had practically threatened to slit Matteo’s throat if he ever stepped near her again.
Maybe Matteo deserved it. He had invaded her personal space like an idiot, thinking his charm worked on everyone.
But still, annoying or not, Matteo was my problem to manage. And I know I needed someone to keep me in check. I told him earlier that he should attend the party with me, but he had declined, saying he had other plans for the evening. But the moment I mentioned Shannon, every plan seemed not to exist anymore.
In no time, we arrive at the mansion. The mansion had been decorated like it was competing with the Vatican, white lights draped everywhere, crystal ornaments hanging from tall columns, a large chandelier glowing gold above polished marble. But even with all this elegance, the air had that unmistakable mafia tension, sharp, cold, and coiled.
Every man in the room pretended he was here for a “family celebration,” but their eyes stayed alert, scanning blind spots, calculating exits, watching hands.
That is mafia parties for you. Letting your guard down is like lying in the grave. We walked into the party together, the heavy doors swinging open as dozens of eyes swept toward us. But I didn’t care about any of them.
My eyes immediately scanned the room. Matteo bumped my shoulder. “Looking for someone, brother?”
“Shut up,” I muttered, ignoring him.
He chuckled under his breath. “Sure. Because you’re not searching for a particular mafia princess or anything.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t because the moment I stepped inside, I felt it. Eyes on me, not hostile, not judging, just watching.
Her eyes.
I didn’t know how I could always tell when Elena was looking at me. Something inside me reacted to her presence, as my senses sharpened, my pulse picked up, and my body recognized her before my mind did. My eyes snapped in the direction where I felt the Stare. I finally spotted her in the women-and-children section.
And fuck, she was breathtaking. Her dress clung to her body in all the right ways, showing curves I had no right to admire. The upper cut of the dress was too deep, dangerously deep. Her cleavage was a soft distraction that made heat coil in my stomach. How the hell did Moretti let his daughter dress like that and walk into a room full of wolves? Isn't she supposed to be wearing a jacket? It's winter.
I cursed under my breath, heat shooting straight to my groin. The monster in my pants twitched at the sight of her. Great, exactly what I needed, or maybe not what I needed because I can't possibly walk around a party with a boner. Matteo noticed instantly, because of course, he will always do. He is as much as my shadow
“Well, look at you,” he whispered with a smug grin. “Your head is telling you that you’re the only man in this room with her.”
I snapped my gaze toward him. “Shut your mouth.”
But Matteo kept going, voice low with wicked amusement. “Bet you want to bend her over that table, shatter all the glasses, and fuck her right there.” Heat exploded across my face. I actually blushed. Me, I didn't just blush.
“Get lost,” I growled.
Matteo laughed. “Dirty mind, huh? Don’t pretend.”
“I’m not discussing this with you.” I reached for the nearest glass of wine just to distract myself. “Find something to do with your life.”
He held up his hands. “Fine, fine. Just don’t kill me when you give in to your urges, so I can hear the story before going to the other side of life.” I ignored him and started moving toward her. Every step made my pulse throb harder. Elena turned slightly, and Shannon leaned closer, whispering something that made Elena blush.
Yeah, they were talking about me. I pretended to casually greet a couple of older mafia men as I passed, waving at people I didn’t care about just to keep up appearances. The last thing I needed was for Don Moretti to see me making a direct beeline to his daughter.
Moretti already didn’t like me. He never acknowledged me. The one time we had a conversation, I don't think Elena was even up to fifteen. That wasn't a conversation but a warning, he told me to stay away from his daughter, same thing he told Matteo, or he was going to slid my throat.
And now here I was walking straight toward her like a man who had lost all sense. Crave her, kiss her, and was having dirty thoughts about his little girl, my brother's fiancée.
I hated waving at people, hated fake smiles, hated pretending to be sociable. But I played the role anyway, masking my intention to approach Elena. She was looking at me now. Her eyes burned right through me. She tried to hide it, but her cheeks were flushed. Her lips curved in the smallest smirk.
"Damn me!"" I curse inwardly, increasing my step, so I could get to her table fast, my eyes tilted to Moretti, he seem a little distracted, so I thought, I'm still save, I could just speak to her fast and then go back to the men section, and Just as I was finally close enough, just as her gaze pulled me in.
Gianna appeared out of nowhere. I froze internally. Externally, I didn’t flinch. She wrapped her hand around my waist as if she owned me. Her perfume hit me instantly, sweet, strong, and familiar.
Oh Gianna, she looks beautiful, seductive, good in bed, and utterly wrong for me, at this point. Normally, I would’ve shrugged her off immediately, even though we have fuck like a thousand times. But we were in public. People were watching. And the last thing I needed was more eyes on me, especially when I was walking toward Moretti’s daughter, and trying not to get into his bad book.
So I didn’t shake her off. I let her wrap her hands around me. It didn’t mean anything, My heart wasn’t in it. My mind wasn’t in it. Only my body pretended. I forced myself to play along, placing a hand on her waist as we turned slightly toward the exit road that led to the corridors. Gianna smiled like she had won something. But I wasn’t looking at her. I looked toward Elena. Only to find out, she was gone.
My stomach dropped unexpectedly. My pulse tightened. My fingers instinctively twitched as if reaching for her. She had been watching. She had seen Gianna cling to me. And then she disappeared.
Fuck! I hope she didn't think otherwise about it. Oh Nikolai, why do you even care?
I held onto Gianna just enough to keep up the illusion, but my mind wasn’t with her. Not for a second. I scanned the crowd again, searching for a glimpse of long hair, that tight dress, those eyes that always burned into me.
Nothing, she had vanished. And all I felt was a cold, sharp panic tightening inside me. Why did her absence bother me this much? Why did the sight of her leaving without a word feel worse than a bullet graze? Because I knew exactly what it meant. Elena wasn’t indifferent.
Was she jealous? And God help me, if she was jealous, then she is making my heart race and I liked that far too much.
"Nikolai stop searching for her." My eyes snapped to Gianna, and I swatted her hand off me, we were alone in the first available room.
"Get your hands off me."