"Isn't it?" I pull away from his touch, needing distance to think clearly. "If I'd never met you, if I'd never catered that yacht party, none of this would be happening. I'd still have my privacy. My reputation. My life."
"You'd also be struggling to keep your business afloat and dealing with your sister's addiction alone." His voice drops to something rough and honest. "Don't pretend your life was perfect before me."
The truth of his words hits like a physical blow. He's right. I was drowning before the island, before him, working myself to exhaustion while Maya spiraled and my business barely broke even. But at least it was mine. At least I had control.
"Someone was watching us," I whisper, the violation making my skin crawl. "The whole time we were on that island, thinking we were alone, someone was there. Taking pictures. Waiting."
"I know." Nikolai's jaw tightens, rage flickering in his eyes. "And when I find them, they'll wish they'd drowned in that storm."
The casual promise of violence should terrify me. Instead, I feel a dark satisfaction bloom in my chest. Whoever violated our privacy deserves whatever Nikolai has planned.
"How many photos are there?" I ask, my voice steadier now.
"I don't know yet. This is the only one that's been released publicly." He returns to his laptop, turning the screen so I can see. "But the blackmailer sent copies to three members of the Bratva council. Men whose respect I need to maintain my position."
My stomach drops as understanding crashes over me like a wave. "This isn't just about humiliating us. It's about making you look weak."
"Yes." The single word carries the weight of everything unsaid. "The Pakhan doesn't show vulnerability. Doesn't fall in love. Doesn't let himself be photographed looking like…" He gestures at the image on the screen, at the tenderness captured in brutal clarity.
I realize with crystalline clarity that these photographs aren't just weapons aimed at Nikolai's reputation.
They're weapons aimed at destroying us both. At proving the Pakhan has gone soft. At giving Matvey Ignatyev exactly the ammunition he needs to challenge Nikolai's authority and tear apart everything he's built.
32
NIKOLAI
Iwatch Aria's face crumble as she scrolls through her phone, each swipe bringing fresh devastation to those dark eyes I've memorized in a thousand different lights. Her fingers tremble against the screen, and even from across the room I can see the headlines reflected in the glass.Gold Digger Traps Billionaire on Desert Island.Caterer's Calculated Seduction.From Yacht Party to Payday: The Aria Levin Story.
Rage builds in my chest like pressure in a sealed container, cold and lethal. These strangers dissecting her character, reducing what happened between us to something cheap and transactional, have no idea how close they are to disappearing. The Pakhan in me catalogs their names, their publications, the addresses of their offices. It would be so easy to make them understand the cost of slandering what's mine.
But Aria wouldn't forgive me for that. She'd see it as another violation, another example of my world consuming hers.
I cross to where she sits curled on the sofa, her body folded in on itself like she's trying to disappear. My hand reaches forhers, and when our fingers connect, electricity arcs between us despite the circumstances. Her skin is cold, shock settling into her bones, and I pull her against my chest with more force than I intend.
"I'll fix this," I say, the words rough with an accent that thickens when I'm trying not to let emotion bleed through. "I'll make them retract every word. Sue them into oblivion. Whatever it takes."
She looks up at me, and the tears swimming in those dark eyes make something crack in my chest. "You can't fix this, Nikolai. The damage is done." Her voice breaks on my name, and I feel it like a blade between my ribs. "My clients are already canceling. Three emails came through while I was reading the articles. They don't want to be associated with the Pakhan’s woman."
The way she says it, like it's a curse rather than protection, makes my jaw tighten. "Then we'll find new clients. Better ones. People who understand that tabloid trash is just that."
"It's not just the business." She pulls away from me, wrapping her arms around herself, and I hate the distance even though it's only inches. "My reputation is destroyed. Everything I've built for three years… gone."
The accusation hangs between us like smoke. She's not wrong. If she'd stayed on that yacht, if she'd let me drown, her life would still be her own. Instead, she's trapped in my world, pregnant with my child, watching strangers tear her apart online.
My phone vibrates against my thigh, Cyril's name flashing across the screen. I glance at Aria, torn between staying with her and handling whatever crisis my second-in-command is calling about. Her expression tells me she needs space, anyway, needstime to process without my overwhelming presence making it worse.
"I need to take this," I say, already moving toward the hallway. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
I answer on the third ring, my voice dropping to the tone that makes grown men flinch. "What is it?"
"We have a problem, Boss." Cyril's voice is tight with controlled fury, each word clipped and precise. "Security caught Maya Levin attempting to access your private office. She's clearly using again. Pupils dilated, movements erratic, asking questions she has no business asking."
Ice slides down my spine, settling in my stomach like a stone. "Where is she now?"
"Security office. Basement. She's handcuffed to a chair and demanding to see her sister."
"Don't let her near Aria." The command comes out harsher than I intend. "I'm on my way."
