Chapter 8 CRAVING TO BREAK HER.
NIKOLAI’S POV:
My fist clenched so hard my hands turned white.
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my anger at bay.
‘Breathe, Nik. Breathe.’ I forced myself to breathe slowly.
In through the nose, and out through the mouth.
Then, I closed my eyes. It was a necessary habit I’d learned long ago. Because rage had cost me everything once.
Jasmine’s unyielding and reckless defiance had struck something buried deep within me. The way she lifted her chin when she spoke back. The way her eyes burned not with fear, but with fury.
It reminded me of someone I had lost. It reminded me of her.
Memories of my mother began flooding in. Despite her small stature, she was the powerhouse of my father’s empire. Her stubbornness and defiance made even the biggest and strongest men shrink. Hell, even my father feared her. Her defiance had made her the strongest woman alive. And it was that defiance that had gotten her killed.
I saw it as if it were happening again. Her blood blooming red on the bare ground. The way her body crumpled without a sound, the echo of my father’s cry as he fell beside her, shattered and broken, left alive only to suffer.
And an eight year old had to witness such a disaster.
All because of him. Don Vorn.
The name always made my chest heavy. I had sworn that day, kneeling in blood with my hands shaking as I held my mother’s lifeless form, that I would end him. That I would hunt him and erase his bloodline from this world. That vow had shaped every decision I’d made since.
I opened my eyes and no longer was I alone in the dining hall.
Seated across from me was my second-in-command, Mathew. He occupied the exact chair Jasmine had vacated moments earlier.
“Why her?” he asked finally.
I reached for the nearest plate and tore into a chicken thigh with my bare hands, grease coating my fingers. Etiquette meant nothing to me in moments like this.
“She’s daring,” I replied simply.
He frowned. “That’s not enough.”
I took another bite, chewing slowly. “It’s enough for me.”
He leaned back slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. “She’s no one, Nikolai. No ties to the underground. No lineage. No protection. She’s a liability to your great empire.”
I swallowed, my gaze drifting toward the doorway she’d disappeared through.
“She’s not what she seems,”
Matthew’s brow furrowed. “You’ve checked. We all have. Jasmine Lulu, model, philanthropist, clean records. No known connections.”
“And yet,” I said quietly, “She knows things she shouldn’t.”
He went still.
“She handled herself pretty well against Sergio and his guys. The same men even you couldn’t stand against. She tried to escape with a makeshift rope. I don’t know many girls bold enough to do something like that. To risk their life like that.”
Matthew’s eyes sharpened. “Luck. Recklessness. Desperation.”
I shook my head once. “Nothing about her feels lucky. Reckless, yes. But luck, no.”
There was something about the way she moved through my world without shrinking. Something about the way she fought me with words instead of fear. It unsettled me, drew me in, made me want to test her limits. Made me want to break her.
Mathew exhaled. “You’re risking too much.”
“I know.”
“For someone of no powerful lineage whatsoever.”
“I know.”
“She’ll find out and definitely not be happy about this.”
I dropped the cup that still held wine hard on the table. My gaze locked on him. “I don’t care about what she does. We broke up. It’s time she moved on.”
He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t dare.
“And Don Vorn’s child?”
He was silent.
My jaw clenched.
“Don’t tell me you have nothing, Matt.”
He shook his head. “Sorry boss, we don’t even know the gender. The trail went cold years ago. All we know is that the child resides in New York.”
“Then keep digging,” I ordered. “Bring me whoever it is. Son or daughter, it doesn’t matter.”
Matthew hesitated. “And if—”
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “They will answer for his sins.”
He nodded, understanding better than anyone that vengeance wasn’t negotiable.
When the discussion ended, I stood, wiping my hands with a cloth as I made my way toward my bedroom. My body ached, subtly reminding me of the blood I’d spilled hours earlier during the night’s work.
A shower, and a moment of solitude and silence. That’s what I needed.
I went up and stopped short outside my door. Just then, a soft, broken, sound reached me. It sounded like a sob.
Two of my men who had been stationed there were motionless, with their eyes forward, and their faces strongly blank. One of them shifted a little when he saw me.
“Leave,” I said. They obeyed instantly.
Then I opened the door.
Jasmine was sitting on the edge of the bed, curling her shoulders inwardly, and hiding her face in her hands. Her dress, which I had initially picked out for her, was now crumpled, and wet with tears. Her breath hitched as she struggled to keep quiet, not noticing that I was there.
She looked so small and vulnerable like this. Nothing like the firebrand who had challenged me moments earlier.
I closed the door behind me. This made her look up.
For the first time since I’d brought her here, she didn’t utter a single word.
“You’re crying. Stop it. I hate it.”