E I G H T E E N

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N I K O L A I

Moscow, Russia

One last night.

That's what she'd asked of me thirty days ago, and like a fool that I was, I'd agreed to give it to her. And even after days, I didn't know what weigh on me more. The fact that I'd agreed to it, or the fact that I hadn't made good on my word yet. Maybe I was a liar too. Just like her. And for reasons unfathomable to me, the thought of that comforted me, after all, what could be more treacherous than two liars loving each other, victims to a love too baneful for them. However, it seemed like with her I would always be the moth, oblivious to the way her flame would burn me even after all the times she'd left me burning in the hell she'd created for the both of us, fuelled by the love I once had for her. Because even after all this time, a part of me deplored my decision of leaving her with all the memories from eight years ago. Memories that I knew were choking both of us the same.

They said you could never unlove someone, and I fucking wished that it wasn't true, just so I could erase Keira Knight from my memory and all the ways she'd destroyed me. All the ways she'd cursed me to drown unless she was the only one pulling me to shore.

Her drunk vulnerability had done things to me, and just like any naïve sailor I'd answered her siren call, except I'd already been lured death by her hands before, so it didn't make much of a difference this time, however, when she'd woken up, her gaze more resigned, I knew she'd already accepted that last night was all she had. And she wouldn't even have had that if she wasn't shitfaced, and if a part of my heart that'd been dead for ages didn't ache for her. In front of her, I acted like her little broken request hadn't done a number on me, nearly melting me on the spot, but her vulnerability had done something to me. Something I wasn't quite ready to face again.

So, here I was pouring vodka on the clusterfuck my life was, knowing Keira was somewhere around the mansion. I had her moved to my mansion three weeks ago after Maxim Zavod had been shot dead, and yes he was the same motherfucker who'd been leering at Keira. It also didn't help that almost everyone was now aware that Keira was my life. Even dedushka had called a week ago, asking about the authenticity of the news. Keira was no longer known as Keira Knight, she was Keira Chernova in the eyes of everyone who mattered, and living on her own, where any of enemies could get to her was no longer an option. I had an inkling the reason the news of my marriage had spread like wildfire was none other than my brother-in-law—Kyzer Knight, but I couldn't even fault him for making his association with me known for whatever reasons he had. Though I reckoned it was to lure Astley—rather Angelo Esposito—out so Kyzer could watch as life left the motherfucker. Kyzer was a smart man to make connections rather than blindly going after his greatest enemy. He had patience, and finesse to plot revenge, and for some twisted reason, I wanted to watch as he dished Astley's fate out.

I'd hadn't even taken another shot when a loud thud interrupted me, and I placed the tiny glass down on my table, walking towards the balcony door. I hadn't even stepped out when I saw Kyzer fucking Knight leaning against the wall, a subtle smirk on his face.

"There's doors for this, Kyzer."

"I'm not particularly fond of how your men treat me." Kyzer shrugged, his gaze sharp.

"Seems to me that they have a good reason for it," I pointed at the way he'd crashed on my balcony. For some reason this motherfucker was fond of grand entries and always managed to find blank spots in any security system.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, darling," Kyzer teased, straightening as he approached me, overlooking the garden, the shadows of the pine trees appearing grotesque at night. "I need to talk to you, and I can't have my whereabouts exposed."

𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 - 𝟏𝟖+Where stories live. Discover now