Chapter 82: One Of His Favorite Things

Nikolai had only one purpose for going to London: To find the leech who was living under his mansion. And two, he had business with Bruce Sterlings.

Business that wasn't typically his but it became his because it was attached to someone that he was obsessing about.

Not love just possession. Loving and possessing over her like he did his favourite things.

And now, she'd become one of his favourite things. Belonged to him precisely.

He had assigned Dmitri to take care of Ivan. Meaning torture and feeding his bones to his pit bulls.

Then Sergi was to take care of his brigadiers. They were getting brazen and whoever was feeding their wings power needed to be caught off.

They had dared to question his authority.

But then a man he despised so much more than anything came disturbing, Aria's father, Yuri Markov. The demon who had turned Nikolai into a heartless monster.

Nikolai was the Pakhan of the Volkovskaya Russian Mafia but still... Yuri was like a thorn in his side.

He shouldn't have power over Nikolai's brigadiers but he did.

And it was trouble for Nikolai.

Viktor was Yuri's favourite brigadier. More like his own person who fed him details about what Nikolai was doing and whatnot.

To find out Nikolai had killed him was a direct hot slap to his face.

And to find out it was over a girl. A weakless girl he had suddenly brought into his mansion made Yuri furious.

But Nikolai didn't give a damn. He would be ready to kill any man who thought they could speak or touch Isabella and get away with it.

Nikolai was almost done with his business in London, when Sergi informed him that his brigadiers were acting up. They were demanding for Nikolai to show up and explain why the hell he had killed Viktor.

They knew the reason.

Everyone knew the reason because they were there at the party.

He knew who was pulling the strings. Yuri Markov.

He was trying to force his hands. And he was going to show it to them.

Yuri had tried talking to him at the charity gala but he sidelined him and was more interested in Bruce Sterlings.

Now back in Russia. He couldn't wake the sleeping beauty when they arrived.

Her soft moans were calming the roar in his head.

But, he had somewhere to be. The underground.

He kissed the sensitive spot on her neck, letting his hot lips linger on her neck for a while before he pulled back, rubbing her temples softly.

Thick tension coiled like thorns around his neck. He couldn't let her go.

He loved how she was resting on his body.

He loved how her small body was against his rather large arms.

He swallowed down his urges to drink up her scent.

He laid her down on the plane couch, finding a thick fur blanket that covered her protectively.

Russia was a cold country. Too cold that he was afraid she might turn into ice.

It was hard for him to let go.

For him to leave.

This burning obsession of having her close to him had grown insanely large.

He didn't care for her. He didn't love her. All he wanted to do was to add her to his top most favourite possessions he owned. This he told himself not wanting to acclaim what he knew wasn't possible for him.

He pushed himself away to his feet to leave the plane but then her hand shot out, holding his hands, unwilling to let go.

"Daisy..." She murmured, a single tear rolling down her brightened cheeks.

"Nothing will happen to her. That I promise." Nikolai promised into the silent plane that had only the steady beating of her heart.

Then as if she had heard it, she let go of his hands and curled herself into a foetal position, holding onto the blanket up to her cheeks.

Nikolai's eyes softened for a moment at her state then he hardened his features again and left the plane.

He was supposed to be in a killing mood and not in a fondled state of longing and care for Isabella.

So he left, informing the flight hostess to wake her if she slept over an hour.

He soon reached his meeting place, where he would have a meeting or rather tell off his brigadiers with real, lethal threats.

The place was dim, suffocating under a thick cloud of expensive cigar smoke and the heavy scent of amber liquor.

It was the ultimate playground for dangerous men, a room built entirely on smoke and mirrors.

A single, low-hanging light fixture hung over the center table, casting sharp, ominous shadows across the room.

The men sitting around the long table looked like ghosts in the dim light. They blew out thick clouds of smoke, using the haze to hide their expressions and their nervousness.

They were all trying to act tough, but behind the cigars and the glasses of scotch, they were sweating.

Nikolai had arrived.

His outfit had changed from simple to pristine and sharp. Black shirt rolled over to his elbows revealed his inky black hands that danced under the dim lights.

He was furious. Madly furious.

He didn't need to question who had turned against him.

Sergi had already sent him a file.

To make an example, he didn't speak, he didn't say a word but as soon as he entered, the place instantly smelt like death.

To heighten the smell, he didn't use a gun he used a knife.

Everyone gasped out loudly in the room.

W-Who was he going to kill?

Their breath seized in their throat— so much for men who demanded that Nikolai explain why he had killed Viktor, they were shitting their pants.

He came up to a man not so much older than him, he didn't let the man speak, he sliced the knife across his neck in a long clean swipe.

Blood immediately stained the table, shooting out like watery ropes from the man's neck while he held his throat in his hands, choking and then he slumped on the table, blood spilling from his mouth.

The remaining brigadiers gripped their seats tight.

Nikolai didn't blink, he smirked. Wild and untamed. The smell of blood around him, soothing his inner demons.

He needed another kill.

He took a step further aiming at a man who was another of Yuri's favourites.

But then his phone beeped. The emergency sound that bypassed his silent mood.

A call was from his security guard at the mansion.

He took a step back, answering the phone.

But the next words that reached his ears weren't what he wanted to hear.

It turned his blood from hot to a burning churning furnace.

"S-Sir, the Miss. She's trying to escape. She wants to leave. Her sister is missing."

His eyes darkened then he bellowed,

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"