Chapter 313 Chapter 314

Chapter 313 Chapter 314
Chapter 314

Nikolai’s POV 

The autumn wind in Tokyo smelled of damp cedar, sea salt, and rain.

Six months had passed since we smuggled our mother out of Saint Petersburg. Nestled high in the secluded hills of Kanagawa, overlooking the dark waters of the bay, the private neuro-regeneration facility felt less like a hospital and more like a fortress carved from glass, black stone, and bamboo. It was completely disconnected from Western military databases, paid for by the ghost accounts I bled dry every month.

My mother lay inside a temperature-controlled glass suite, her vital signs stable, her brain waves showing subtle, tiny flickers of activity for the first time since the coma began.

"Her neural pathways are responding to the peptide therapy, Mr. Sokolov," a soft, melodious voice spoke up from behind me.

I turned around slowly.

Freya stood near the doorway, holding a digital chart against her medical coat. She was twenty-three, a junior neuro-researcher assigned to my mother's private floor. She was breathtaking in a quiet, effortless way, with long, dark hair tied back loose, warm almond eyes, and a soft, genuine smile that seemed entirely out of place in a world dominated by grief and cold tactical calculations.

For six grueling months, while Nicholas and I lived like ghosts in a foreign country, Freya had been the only constant warmth in our lives. She did not look at us like tragic refugees, and she did not ask questions about where the millions paying for suite four came from. She simply cared for our mother with a gentle, fierce devotion.

"Is the brainstem pressure holding steady?" I asked, my voice dropping into its usual low, measured tone.

"It dropped another two points this morning," Freya replied softly, stepping up beside me near the glass wall. She looked up into my eyes, her expression warm and entirely unfiltered. "You look exhausted, Nikolai. When was the last time you slept more than three hours?"

"Sleep is a luxury I cannot afford right now," I said flatly, keeping my eyes on the digital monitors.

Freya let out a gentle, quiet sigh. She reached out, her small, warm fingers gently brushing against my bare forearm. The physical touch sent a sudden, electric jolt straight to my heart, making my chest tighten. In a life filled with blood, cold code, and constant threat assessments, her touch felt like the first steady thing I had felt since my world collapsed.

"You carry the entire world on your shoulders, Nikolai," she whispered, her eyes searching mine with a tender, lingering intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. "You are allowed to be human. You are allowed to rest."

I looked down at her small hand on my arm, a rare, unbidden warmth blooming deep within my repressed chest. I wanted to reach out, to wrap my fingers around hers, to yield to the overwhelming urge to pull her close. I fell for her quietly, deeply, and completely. But my cold, disciplined nature held me back. I was a man hunted by dark forces, a ghost with no future. I had no right to drag a sweet, innocent woman like Freya into my storm.

Before I could say a word, the sound of quiet footsteps echoed down the polished hallway.

Nicholas walked into the glass ante-room, wearing his tailored suit. His eyes immediately landed on Freya's hand resting on my forearm. A sharp, ugly shadow flickered across his face, his jaw clenching tightly for a fraction of a second before he forced his signature charming smile onto his lips.

Freya quickly pulled her hand back, stepping slightly away from me with a faint blush creeping up her neck. "I will go check her afternoon medication dosage," she said quietly, giving us both a gentle nod before stepping out of the room.

The silence between my twin brother and me grew thick, cold, and suffocating.

Nicholas walked over to the glass wall, staring at our mother's sleeping form. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his knuckles bulging against the fabric.

"She likes you," Nicholas said flatly, his voice laced with a bitter, simmering edge.

"She is her attending researcher, Nicholas," I replied smoothly, picking up my tablet from the desk.

"Don't lie to me, Nikolai," Nicholas snapped, spinning around to face me. The easy, charming mask he usually wore completely shattered, revealing the raw, festering resentment beneath. "I see the way she looks at you. I see the way you look at her. It is always you, isn't it?"

I frowned, looking up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"It has been like this our entire damn lives!" Nicholas spat out, taking a furious step toward me. "Father always lit up whenever you walked into the room! To him, you were the brilliant technical genius, the heir to his mind, while I was just the extra twin playing with stethoscopes! And now here we are in Japan, and the only beautiful thing in this hellhole looks at you like you are a god!"

"Nicholas, calm down," I said sternly, my dark eyes narrowing.

"No!" Nicholas yelled in a harsh, restrained voice, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. "You are cold, Nikolai! You treat people like math equations and tactical problems! You don't even know how to hold a woman! You sit here choking on your own emotional walls while she stands right in front of you!"

I kept my mouth shut, letting his bitter outburst bounce off my chest. He was hurt. He was sidelined, feeling like a useless medical student living off my ghost funds while I made every decision for our family.

Nicholas took a deep, shaky breath, wiping a hand over his face as he forced his composure back into place. A dark, strange glint flashed deep within his eyes, something dangerous and unsettling.

"You know," Nicholas whispered softly, his voice turning eerily calm, "we share the exact same face, Nikolai. Identical DNA. Identical voice. The only difference is that I know how to make a woman feel alive, and you don't."

He took a step closer, looking at my cold, unreadable face with a challenging smirk.

"Let me wear your face with her," Nicholas offered, his tone dropping into a sinister, playful purr. "Just for a little while. I can go to the research lounge as you, talk to her, see if she is actually genuine or if she is just pitying you. Consider it a favor from your charming brother. A little experiment to see what she really wants."

I looked at my twin brother, my heart sinking slightly at the darker motive hiding beneath his words. It wasn't a favor. It was a desperate, bitter need to win, a need to take something that belonged to the twin who had always outshone him.

"She is not an experiment, Nicholas," I said coldly, turning my back on him to pack my tactical gear. "Leave her alone."

Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, ominous sound that echoed off the glass walls. "Whatever you say, big brother. Whatever you say."