Day 3
_KIRA's POV_
Friday, 11 PM
I put down the camera, gun in hand, and step into the living room, in a foul mood. Looking out the window, I notice three silhouettes in the courtyard of my villa. My men have fallen asleep again.
They're going to hear about this.
I grab the doorknob and swing it open abruptly, triggering the alarm. A piercing sound pierces my ears.
I hear my men shouting. I raise my weapon to signal them to head to the back yard.
I sigh; they tire me more than they help.
I close the door, the alarm stops when I press a red button. The villa locks down and requires a code for access.
Satisfied, I stretch, tying my hair back with an elastic, sliding my gun into the waistband of my joggers.
I turn around, my blood runs cold. I grab my weapon in a flash, my right hand ready to fire at the slightest doubt.
With my eyes closed, the calm breathing of the man in front of me makes my shoulders drop. I lower my weapon from his temple and place my wrist on his shoulder.
- You scared the life out of me, Nicke. You should have announced yourself, I tell him, my left hand on my hip, my head slightly tilted forward, resting against his chest.
I can hear his heartbeat.
- You don't trust me a little too much, Moya Zlaya? he questions, noting our closeness.
His voice is deep and hoarse; he just woke from a deep sleep.
- You were the one sleeping soundly in a place you barely know, I say, slowly detaching myself from him, putting some distance between us.
- You're here to protect me, right? he whispers, analyzing me from head to toe.
His eyes are almost white in the night.
- Where were you? What happened? he continues, grabbing my shoulders.
I shake off his grip, then I move past him toward my bedroom while he follows closely.
- The usual, you know! Welcome to Italy, I announce with a tired smile, and I shut the door in his face.
I place my weapon in one of the drawers of my desk, the sound of the lock echoing in the silence of the night. I move toward the bed and grab my tablet to check the surveillance cameras.
They caught them.
One of them resists, but one of my men knocks him out with a blow to the temple with his weapon, then drags him toward their house, adjacent to mine.
I'll handle everything tomorrow. Tonight, I need a good night's sleep. In a week, it's Nash's return gala, and the Furz are invited.
He, therefore, is invited.
I'll find him a Russian woman so I can have some peace and talk to my brother, Lucas.
My only brother, by the way.
He is the eldest, the right hand of the president, a charismatic and impetuous man whose presence commands respect.
Although Lucas is often traveling for business, he remains a pillar in my life. Our exchanges are rare, but each meeting is filled with unspoken emotions.
Lucas has always been there for me, but his busy schedule and responsibilities within the mafia council keep him away.
It's not easy being in the council of Italy, especially cleaning up after an impulsive mobster.
I set down the tablet, turn off the lamp, then lie down, closing my eyes while thinking about the difficult day that awaits me tomorrow.
---
Day 4
3 AM
I'm jolted from my sleep by a strange noise. My heart races, but it's not fear that paralyzes me; it's a dull anger.
Sleeping is too much to ask.
I move into the living room, my body tense, senses on high alert.
It's 3 AM.
In the pale light of the moon, I see Nicke, bent over an old box, his face illuminated by an unsettling glow.
My fists clench.
I approach silently, locking my eyes onto his. The tension is palpable, but it's not desire that stirs within me; it's distrust.
— What are you doing, Nicke? My voice is cold, almost a warning.
He turns to me, a twisted smile on his lips, the kind that sends chills down my spine, a brutal reminder of his unpredictability.
He steps forward, slowly closing the distance, and I instinctively back away, my hand ready to grab anything to defend myself.
His breath brushes against my skin, sending a cold shiver through me.
He mocks my fear, and it fuels my urge to scream at him to leave. But instead, he kisses me. A stolen, possessive kiss. My heart skips a beat, but I refuse to give in.
— Let me go, I whisper barely above a breath, but he doesn't listen.
Then he pulls back, a cocky smile on his lips.
I fight the urge to run or hold him back, torn between fear and fascination.
And then I wake with a jolt, gasping, my heart pounding wildly.
It was only a dream.
I sit up, trying to shake off the oppressive feeling, the sense that something is wrong.
But when I turn my head, there he is. Nicke. Shirtless, asleep on the couch in my room.
Anger tightens my throat. What is he doing here? Without warning?
I stay still, watching his every movement. His face is peaceful, but I know he's always hiding something.
Always.
I'm about to order him out when his eyes open. He looks at me with that smirk that leaves no doubt.
He's been here for a while.
— You seem to have had an interesting dream, he says in a rough voice.
A shiver runs through me again. My fists clench tightly.
— That's none of your business, I reply, cold and sharp. You'd better leave before I lose my patience.
The silence falls, heavy and charged with dangerous promises.
Tonight, he has invaded my territory.
But I don't intend to let him take control.
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