Chapter 16: The First Date

I’m frozen. My feet refuse to move, and for a long moment, my brain can’t quite catch up with what I’m seeing.

I won’t lie, I'm mesmerized. Completely.

He must have done all this to impress me.

And damn it, I am impressed.

A rooftop dinner? It’s one of the things I’ve secretly written on my bucket list. A silly dream I never thought would happen. And yet, here I am.

Nikolai... cold, terrifying, unpredictable Nikolai just casually fulfilled it without me even asking or hinting at it.

“Liora?” His voice snaps me out of my thoughts. He’s watching me closely, his expression calm, one brow slightly raised. “Is something wrong?”

I blink, jolting back to reality. That voice. That aura. There’s something different tonight. Something controlled and unnervingly gentle.

This isn’t the teasing, cruel Nikolai who toys with me like I’m one of his games. This feels… different.

“I—I'm… umm—yes,” I stammer, words tripping over themselves.

He extends a hand toward me, palm open, waiting.

For a moment, I just stare at it. Every instinct inside me screams that I shouldn’t touch him. That nothing good ever comes from being close to him. But I don’t move away.

Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the strange warmth in his gaze. Maybe it’s exhaustion. I can’t tell anymore.

I place my hand in his.

His fingers wrap around mine firmly and he leads me toward the table with measured steps.

When we reach the table, he pauses. Then, with a movement so smooth, he pulls out the chair for me.

I frown. “Why are you acting all… good?”

He settles into the seat opposite mine, lips curving faintly. “It’s our first date,” he says, his tone light. “I don’t want to ruin it with my taunting remarks.”

A pause follows, and then he tilts his head slightly, eyes glinting. “But if that’s the version of me you love…”

“No!” The word escapes before I can stop it.

For a second, he looks surprised. Then, he smiles. Not the wicked, dangerous one I’ve grown used to, but something softer. And it feels so strange that my chest tightens for reasons I can’t explain.

Why is he doing this to me?

I glance around again, at the thousands of petals and the soft, golden glow of the candles flickering in the dark. The sky above is clear, and the city lights stretch endlessly below us.

It’s beautiful. Too beautiful.

He’s trying so hard to win my heart, and I don’t know how to process it.

He opens the lids of the silver trays one by one, and the scent that escapes makes my stomach betray me instantly.

It growls, loudly.

Nikolai’s lips twitch with amusement, and a spark of smug satisfaction flickers in his eyes.

“How do you feel about the location of our honeymoon?” he asks casually as he begins to serve the food. “Santorini.”

His voice rolls off the tongue so easily, as if we’re an ordinary couple making ordinary plans. The casualness of it stuns me.

“It… doesn’t matter,” I reply, avoiding his gaze. “You already booked the tickets.”

“I could cancel them if you don’t like the location,” he says smoothly, serving a portion onto my plate carefully. His movements are gentle, controlled, almost tender.

My head spins. He’s being nice. Too nice.

And that’s exactly what unsettles me the most.

Because Nikolai Volkov doesn’t do nice. He doesn’t do candlelight, or roses, or rooftop dinners. He commands, manipulates, destroys. And yet, right now, he’s sitting across from me like a man who just wants to make his wife happy.

I look up at him. The flames dance in his eyes, painting them gold.

“What do you think, love?” He asks, voice gentle, his accent rolling over the word.

The endearment rolls off his tongue so effortlessly that it steals the air from my lungs.

My stomach flips, and I try to disguise it with a shrug.

“I think it’s fine,” I murmur, even though I barely know anything about the place.

He smiles faintly, satisfied.

Then, without a word, he picks up his fork, cuts a small piece of steak and raises it toward me.

I freeze, my brows furrowing in confusion. For a split second, I actually think I’ve misread the gesture. But no. He’s serious. The fork hovers inches from my lips, the tender piece of meat glistening with sauce under the lantern light.

My eyes widen, and I instinctively pull back. “What now?” I ask, half-breathless. “Feeding me?”

His smirk deepens, that familiar flicker of amusement dancing across his face.

“Would that be such a terrible thing?” His tone is soft, but there’s a teasing undercurrent beneath it.

“I can eat by myself,” I mutter, reaching up to push his hand away. I try to sound firm, but my voice betrays me, trembling slightly.

The fork lowers, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He studies me in silence for a long moment, that calm expression slipping back over his features. Then, slowly, he leans back in his chair, resting the fork against his plate calmly.

“As you wish, dear wife,” he murmurs, voice smooth.

I grab my own fork, maybe a little too quickly, and begin to eat. The food is delicious. Rich, perfectly cooked, probably made by some chef whose salary could feed an entire family for a year. But every bite feels heavy under his gaze.

He doesn’t touch his food at first. He just watches me, eyes following every small movement. Each time I lift the fork, each time I lower it again. It’s unnerving, like he’s memorizing me without saying a word.

Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I glance up. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

His lips twitch in that almost-smile again. “I am,” he says simply, and only then does he pick up his own fork.

But even as he starts eating, I can feel his attention never really leaving me. Like the meal, the setting, even the soft music playing from somewhere unseen... everything here was arranged for a single purpose.

Me.

“I… I have something to say,” I manage, the words tumbling out between small bites of food. My voice sounds almost hesitant.

Nikolai’s eyes lift lazily to mine. He doesn’t rush me, just gives a small nod, silently granting me permission to continue.

I take a slow breath, gathering the courage I need. “Can you not watch me bathe?” The words come out fragile, almost pleading. “Please.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, a low, almost amused chuckle escapes his throat.

“Why?” His tone is light but think with something dangerous. “You’re mine.”

The way he says it sends a shiver racing through me. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something reckless.

“I just… I feel uncomfortable with the camera,” I reply carefully. “Please, turn them off.”

He tilts his head slightly, as if assessing me. “Didn’t you already do that?” A faint smile tugs at his lips. “I can’t even spot the wristband on you anymore.”

My stomach sinks. He knows.

My fingers tighten around the edge of my plate. “There’s one in the bathroom, right?” I whisper, my voice barely steady. “Don’t watch me bathe. Please.”

For the first time that night, he looks away. His eyes close slowly, as though weighing my words. When they open again, something lingers in them. Something that feels almost… human.

“Request granted,” he says quietly.

The rest of the meal passes in silence. The faint sound of distant crickets fill the rooftop, but neither of us says another word. When we’re done, he stands and offers me his hand again. This time, I take it without argument.

He walks me back to my room in silence. When we reach my door, he opens it for me, that same faint smile playing on his lips.

“Goodnight, dear wife."

I nod faintly, unable to meet his gaze. The door closes behind me with a quiet click.

As soon as I’m alone, I slump onto the bed, my body sinking into the mattress. It’s been such a long day. Somehow, this night felt even longer.

The dinner… the rooftop… the roses. Nikolai had gone out of his way, and I can’t deny it stirred something warm and confusing inside me. For a man like him, this was nothing, barely a scratch on his wealth. But the effort and care left an ache in my chest I didn’t expect.

But just as quickly, I shut that feeling down. I can’t think like this. I can’t feel like this.

Adrian’s face flashes in my mind. The way he smiles, the way he looks at me with so much love and safety. My chest tightens painfully.

No matter what Nikolai does, I remind myself, I can’t forget why I’m here.

And I can’t forget who I’m doing this for.

Adrian Calloway.