I glance at him, brow furrowed. “But your father?”
“That’s why Ravetta is safest,” Nikolai says, locking eyes with me. “I will remain a key member of the Bratva, but the primary heir will pass to Adrian. We need distance from the power struggles, not proximity to them.”
Enzo steps closer, folding his arms. “I’ve reinforced the changes. I’ll serve the Orlov alliance and keep the balance while Adrian officially assumes the title. Everything will fall into place, but only if you want it.”
Elijah, who has been quiet until now, finally speaks, softer, almost pleading. “Aurelia, you don’t have to go with Nikolai for it to work. You can come back to the manor with me and Enzo. We can—” He swallows. “We can do better. It’ll still work. You’ll still be safe.”
I look between them—Nikolai, Enzo, Elijah—and for the first time in hours, I feel the weight of my own power. I can choose. Not because anyone is giving it to me, but because they’ve all made the arrangements around me, not against me.
Nikolai’s gaze locks on Elijah, and I’m pretty sure I missed something because I was under the impression they got along… Nikolai said they kept busy together… maybe that wasn’t good.
His hand flexes at his side, and the air between them hums with restrained fury.
“He shouldn’t be this close to you,” Nikolai says. “He looks at you like you’re still his.”
I step in front of him before the words can turn into something worse. “Nik… you know Elijah and I are friends”
“You know what you are to me,” Elijah whispers from behind me.
Um, is he trying to get killed?
Seriously… Nikolai has shot the last two guys to touch me and I’m assuming he isn’t growing a conscience anytime soon.
I close my eyes trying to focus on taming this situation. “Yes, we care about each other deeply, and yes, I loved him first.” Nikolai’s glare darkens. “But I love you now. Ionlylove you now.”
My hand brushes his chest, right over the heart I know beats just as violently as mine. “They’re a part of me too… Enzo, Elijah, Adrian. You don’t have to understand it, but you do have to trust me.”
He exhales hard through his nose, head dipping until his forehead nearly touches mine. His voice drops to a roughwhisper. “I’m not sharing you. I’m just… tolerating the idiots you collect.”
I smile, small but sure.
His hand comes up, cupping the side of my face, thumb tracing the line of my jaw. There’s tension in his touch, but it isn’t about control anymore, it’s about need. The kind that makes both of us tremble.
“I hate how much I need you,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I breathe. “I need you too.”
I squeeze his hand until my knuckles ache—hard, tight, a tether I don’t want him to forget. Then I step out of his reach and into Elijah’s space.
“Yeah, okay, just try not to get my friend killed, please,” Enzo mumbles from near the car.
The hug I give Elijah is all pressure and words I can’t say. My arms clamp around his shoulders, my face buried in the hollow of his neck, and for a breath I feel the ordinary, quiet steadiness of him.
I lean back just enough that my lips ghost the shell of his ear. “Thank you for protecting me,” I whisper, soft as a secret. It’s more than gratitude, it’s binding.
Then I let him go.
Nikolai watches me the whole way back to him, the pulse at his throat visible under the skin. Everything about him wound taut. When I reach him, I don’t hesitate. I take his face in my hands and pull him to me.
The kiss is a thing that steals the air. It’s brutal and slow and full of history—his mouth demanding and careful, my lips answering with all the complicated things I don’t say aloud. His hands find my waist, fingers pressing into me. For a moment, the garage, the men, the blood—all of it—blurs into a wash of colour and heat.
“Fantastic. Amazing. I love watching the guy I hate eat her face.” Someone mutters with laughter following.
We break apart only when someone clears his throat loud enough to slice the bubble. Enzo stands there, all smug and theatrical, and does this ridiculous, disgusted little half-laugh. “Alright,” he says. “This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.” He flings something at my thigh, light and fast, and I fumble the box open. “Take it before I break up this exchange with bullets.”
It’s a phone—my first phone—the screen bright with an address already typed in, numbers saved.
“Phone’s got the address,” Enzo announces, all flourish. “Please leave before I have to kill Nikolai for touching you.” He grins, the threat wrapped in a joke only half-fake.
