Chapter 18 Nikolai
I was deep in sleep when the sound of a faint metallic scratching sound woke me.
My senses had been honed by twenty years of surviving in a world where hesitation meant death. I could pick up any sound. I could sense danger before it fully formed.
My eyes opened but I did not move. I just listened.
Anya was no longer by my side. It could only mean one thing. She was trying to get into my room.
A cold fury settled in my chest. What was she planning? What did she think she would find in my room?
The scratching stopped. Then I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
Mikhail.
Mikhail had caught her. I needed to go before he hurt her.
I stepped out and saw Mikhail standing in front of Anya. His arms were crossed. His face was furious and dark.
But Anya just stood there barefooted, like a child being chastised. She looked defiant and stubborn.
Seeing her like that warmed my heart immediately. If only she could act defiant and stubborn to me also. Not scared and uneasy.
His presence stopped whatever was going on. They both looked in his direction and the look they gave him told him he looked messy.
He looked down at his shirt and was embarrassed. It was as though it had gone through a pig's mouth.
“What is going on?” He asked, ignoring their awkward look.
There was silence, only the sounds of birds singing at the distance.
“What is going on?” I asked again. “What are you two doing out here?”
“We will discuss about it tomorrow.” Mikhail saod calmly. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Okay,” I nodded.
Without thinking, I held Anya by the waist. It was so thin, my palm could grab it. I pulled her close, against my chest.
She gasped in shock.
She tried pulling away, but I held her tightly. The smell of her soap filled my nostrils. And otbwas satisfying.
Mikhail's face scrunched up. “That's too close,” he said angrily.
I chuckled. “You told me to act the part. Have you forgotten?”
Mikhail glared at Anya and stomped away angrily.
“He hates me.” Anya said defeatedly.
I smiled ruffling her hair. “He hates everyone who poses a threat to me.”
Anya went back to sleep, but I couldn't. My sleep had already been interrupted.
I just laid beside her, watching her chest rise and fall slowly.
She looked so fragile and innocent. And I the urge to protect her at all cost.
When did I become this person?
What curse had been laid on me?
I now care about the daughter of my enemy.
I had caught her trying to pick my lock. She definitely was planning something. She has my secret and could use it against me.
I should keep her away from me. I should take her out before she becomes a problem.
But I can't.
When dawn came, I left the room quietly.
That evening, I had the servants bring Anya to my study dressed up as a mistress.
When she entered, I barely recognized her.
They had dressed her in a deep red dress that hugged her small frame. It was elegant but revealing. Her hair was styled. Her face had makeup.
She looked beautiful. And angry. She knew why she was here.
The show is about to begin.
"The dress fits," I said coldly. And she didn't look surprise.
She must think I was just trying to be cold.
Was I really acting?
Of course I was. When midnight comes, I would crawl back to her room.
"Yes, Pakhan." She stood with her hands clasped in front of her. The perfect picture of obedience.
"Tonight there is a gathering. You will attend with me." I moved closer to her. She didn't smell like sopa today. She smiled different and i didn't like it.
I prefer the soapy smell. I said to myself.
Shit. I hissed at myself.
She heard it and looked up at me. I wanted to tell her it wasn't her I was hissing at, but there was no point.
"You will stand at my side.” I continued, keeping my voice cold. “You will not speak unless spoken to. And you will let me touch you. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Her voice was flat.
"When I touch you, you will not flinch. You will not pull away. You will act like you welcome it. Like you want it." I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. "Can you do that?"
"I can try," she whispered, her voice cracked.
"Trying is not good enough. You will do it. Our lives may depend on it." I released her chin. "The men tonight will be dangerous. They will be watching us, judging us. If they think you matter to me as anything more than a body, they will come for you."
"I understand." She whispered.
"Good." I offered her my arm. "Then let us go."
She placed her small hand on my arm. I could feel her trembling through the fabric of my suit.
We walked through the estate together. Servants stopped and stared. Guards watched. Everyone saw the Pakhan with his mistress.
The gathering was in the main ballroom. All five families were there. Men in expensive suits. Women dripping with jewelry. The air was thick with cigar smoke and tension.
When we entered, the room went quiet.
Every eye turned to us. To Anya on my arm in her red dress.
I felt her hand tighten on my arm. But she kept her head high. She did not look away from their stares.
Good girl.
I led her to the center of the room to make sure everyone saw her. Then I pulled her closer. My hand went to her waist.
"Gentlemen," I said loudly. "This is Anya. My mistress. Some of you know her as Marco Koslov's daughter. The Blood Tithe. But now she is mine. My property. My pleasure. And anyone who touches what is mine will answer to me."
The message was clear. She was off limits amd protected. But only because she belonged to me.
Not because she mattered.
Boris Zaytsev laughed. "So you did keep her for that. Well done, Nikolai. She is pretty. For a traitor's daughter."
Other men laughed too. I felt Anya stiffen beside me.
I pulled her even closer. My hand slid lower on her waist. "Pretty and useful," I said coldly. "What more could a man want?"
More laughter erupted.
And in that moment, standing in front of all those men, reducing Anya to nothing more than a body I used, I hated myself.
But I smiled. And I held her. And I played the part.
Because that was what monsters did.
They destroyed everything they touched.
Even the things they secretly wanted to protect.
The gathering continued. I kept Anya at my side the entire time. My hand never left her waist. I made sure everyone saw us together. How I looked at her like she was property.
She played her part perfectly. She did not flinch. She did not pull away. She just stood there quietly, letting me touch her.
But I could feel her shaking.
Hours passed. Finally, the gathering ended. And I escorted Anya back to her room.
In the hallway outside her door, she stopped and turned to face me. The anger in her eyes made my heart race.
"That was horrible," she said quietly.
"I know." I said, my voice less cold.
"They looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was just... just a thing you use."
"That was the point." I said calmly. I could no longer take it.
"I know." Tears filled her eyes. "But it hurt anyway."
I reached out without thinking. My hand cupped her face. But before I could speak, footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Alexei Volkov appeared around the corner. His platinum blonde hair caught the light. His ice blue eyes went straight to where my hand still cupped Anya's face.
He smiled and it was not a kind smile.
"Well, well," Alexei said softly. "Isn’t this the famous mistress I have been hearing about?”