Chapter 8 Chapter Eight
Elena's POV
The first thing I felt the next morning when I became conscious was the pounding in my head.
The room was warm, not mine, not anyone’s touch exactly, but the faint sunlight spilling through the half-drawn curtains. I groaned softly, rolling onto my side, and blinked. The room came into focus slowly: the elegant cream walls, the soft sheets, the faint scent of whiskey and something darker, like leather, perhaps.
And then I saw him.
Nikolai!
He was on the couch across the room, one arm resting against the backrest, his head tilted slightly, eyes closed. The sunlight cut across his face, softening the edges of the man everyone in town whispered about the ruthless brother, the dangerous one, the mafia heir who didn’t play by rules. But here, now, he just looked… tired. For a moment, I watched him.
He had taken off his jacket, the black shirt beneath slightly creased, the buttons of his shirt gone, with his chest on display. There was a gun holster peeking from under the coat he’d draped over the couch arm, a reminder of who he really was but somehow, that didn’t make me afraid.
If anything, it made last night feel more unreal, and then it hit me, what was I doing in the same room with him, and my eyes lowered to my body, I was on a big t-shirt, everything was intact except my gown.
Then the memories came back in waves, the laughter, the lights, the drink Rafael handed me… or was it his girlfriend? Then the room spinning, the taste of something strange on my tongue, Nikolai's voice cutting through the haze, his hands steadying me, his warmth when I fell against him. The kiss and then how I strip nude in front of him.
Fuck me!
I curse inwardly as I sit up abruptly, heat flooding my face.
Oh, God, what was I thinking, I kissed him, I stripped in front of him, and I even begged him to touch me.
No! I forced a kiss on him. My first kiss. And not with Rafael, the man I was supposed to love, but with his younger infamous brother. My stomach twisted as I tried to force my memory to remember what happened after that, but nothing came forth. But one thing I know for sure, he didn't touch me
He hadn't crossed the line with me.
Not once.
He could have. I had been half out of my mind, barely conscious but he didn’t. He had caught me, helped me, and made sure I was safe. Then, apparently, slept on that tiny couch instead of leaving me alone.
My gaze lingered on him again, studying the calm rise and fall of his chest, the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he was dreaming about something he had rather forget.
Dangerous or not… There was something painfully human about him in that moment. Before I could think any further, my phone buzzed beside me.
The sound was loud in the quiet room, and I jumped, fumbling for it. The screen flashed with a familiar name.
Shannon's FaceTime call. I winced. Oh no. I forgot to call her immediately after I arrived. Everything that had happened to me in the last twenty-four hours had left me in a world of confusion. I know I was going to get an earful of her scolding for not calling her.
I swiped to answer, lowering my voice. “Hey…” The face that filled the screen was one of both relief and fury.
“Elena!” Shannon’s voice cracked through like lightning. “I’ve been calling you for hours! Why didn’t you tell me when you landed? Do you have any idea how worried I was? And the fucking thing is, you weren't taking any of my calls and you didn't return it since last night.”
“I’m sorry, I..."
She interrupted me, “You could have at least texted! I was about to call uncle..."
“Shannon!” I hissed, glancing at the couch. My voice was a little bit high, and now I think my actions are waking him up. Nikolai stirred slightly, but didn’t wake. Yet.
“I’m fine,” I whispered. “It's just that..." I paused, Shannon leaned closer to the camera, scanning my reflection.
"Go on..." She urges.
"Fine, something happened at the party. I didn’t feel well.”
That shut her up for a second. Then, softer, “You didn’t drink anything, did you?” My silence answered her. “Oh, Lena…” she sighed, the concern in her voice both comforting and suffocating. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't just drunk, but I was drugged, but if I do, hell will let loose, and I don't want that. "Anyways, I am happy you are safe, so how did the party go? Did you meet his brother? I heard Amara saying his brother is hot."
I couldn’t help it; I smiled, “I thought you were checking on me? And why aren't you at the office?"
Shannon pouted. “Office work is boring. Tell me about Rafael, the asshole birthday man."
"Shannon!" I whispered, and Shannon laughed, throwing her hand up in surrender.
It was that laugh that woke him. The sound of movement made me look up just in time to see Nikolai shift on the couch, stretching slightly before blinking his eyes open. He looked at me, really looked and I felt my heartbeat trip over itself.
“Morning,” he said, his voice rough, deep, the kind that lingered in the air even after the words faded.
“Morning,” I replied quickly, turning my phone so the camera faced away. But it was too late. Shannon’s gasp crackled through the speaker.
“Wait... who is that?”
I fumbled, nearly dropping the phone. “No one! I mean...it’s...uh...just.."
"Go on, Elena Valkor, did you get drunk and end up in a strange man's bed? Like a one-night stand."
“Bye!” I blurted, hitting the end call button so fast I almost broke my thumb, before Shannon started spilling rubbish. Silence filled the room again.
When I dared to look up, Nikolai was watching me with one eyebrow raised, amusement flickering in his gray eyes.
“Who was that?” he asked casually, sitting up and stretching his shoulders.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, trying to look composed. “My friend..."
“Your young nanny,” he said, not quite a question, more like a quiet knowing.
I blinked. “How did you..."
He shrugged, standing now, his height filling the room. “You mentioned her name last night. Shannon, right? The one who’s been with you since you were twelve. You were practically asking her to get you your hair dryer.” My eyes bulged before I lowered my gaze and slowly nodded, hoping it was just that and nothing more.
“She is… more like my sister now.”
Something softened in his expression, but only for a moment. “Good. You need someone like that.”
He moved toward the door, retrieving his jacket and slipping it on. The moment he did, the warmth in the room seemed to fade a little replaced by the sharp, cold air of the man everyone feared.
“I have to go,” he said. “Rafael is already up. He’ll be at breakfast. You should join him soon.”
I hesitated, my fingers twisting in the bedsheet. "Nikolai..."
He turned, meeting my eyes.
I took a deep breath. “About last night… I’m sorry. For the kiss. I don’t remember much, but I know it was me who..."
“You don’t need to apologize,” he interrupted gently. “You weren’t yourself.”
“But still…” I bit my lip, heat creeping into my face. “It was my first kiss. And I had rather not have anyone know I stole it from you.”
That made him pause. His eyes flickered, surprise first, then something softer, unreadable.
He looked away before answering. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me... It's not like I would even remember. Trust me, I have had better kisses from women I don't even remember..." My breath caught, just a small sharp sound but I guess he heard it. Heat rushed to my face, not the warm kind but that burn in shame. I tried to laugh it off, but it cracked halfway.
I didn't know if I should be mad at him or grateful that he saved me. At least he did a good deal, but he was just an asshole, and still, he was better than Rafael.
"Right," I whisper, my fingers curling into my palms. "Good to know where I rank." I smiled faintly, more to cover the racing in my chest than anything. “Thank you.” I still muttered, good or bad he was still my savior
He nodded once, hand on the doorknob. “Just… be careful, Elena. Especially with what you drink while you’re here.”
I frowned. “You think someone would want to hurt me?”.
“I think you should trust your instincts,” he said quietly. “And not everyone in this house.” Then he opened the door.
“Nikolai,” I called softly.
He looked back over his shoulder, eyes meeting mine again, the kind of gaze that felt like it could see through lies, through walls, through me.
“Yes?”
I hesitated, words tangling on my tongue. “Thank you. For last night.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “Don’t thank me yet.”
“Why?”
“Because something tells me,” he said, his voice low, almost like a warning, “last night was just the beginning.” My brows furrow.
"What does that mean?"