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Chapter 5
Nikolai
The altercation with Abigail robbed me of a night’s sleep. I’ve never been that turned on in my entire life, and no woman on the face of this planet has ever annoyed me as much as Abigail Sartori.
Her seductive taunting had me jerking off four times, but none of the orgasms satisfied me.
Stalking into my uncle’s office like a bear with a sore tooth, I slump down in his chair and try to lose myself in work.
I check all the shipments are scheduled to arrive on time and the diamonds that are ready to be sold have all been authenticated by a high- end jeweler who’s deep in my pocket.
When I’m done taking care of my own business, I turn my attention to St. Monarch’s contracts.
There’s a new request for an open contract to assassinate some fucker in Guatemala. I send the request out to every assassin registered with St. Monarch’s before checking the currently active contracts.
My cousin has open contracts on the D’Angelo and Sartori families, which means anyone with a gun is looking to cash in by killing Aurora or Abigail.
It fucking sucks that the daughters have to pay for their fathers’ crimes, but that’s how our world works.
Just then, an encrypted message comes through on the system.
Contract 010603: Terminated.
I check the account holder and first verify the proof of death before I authorize the payment to be made to the assassin’s banking account.
“How are things in here?” Uncle Carson asks as he comes into his office.
“Renaldo Vero has been eliminated. I’ve verified the kill and authorized the payment.” Getting up from the chair, I add, “There’s a new contract.
I’ve sent it out already.” “Thanks, son.”
Uncle Carson and Aunt Hailey never had children of their own. I’ve always been close with them, and they treat me like I’m their blood.
Meeting my beloved uncle’s eyes, I say, “I’m going home this coming weekend.”
He lets out a chuckle, and placing his hand on my shoulder, he mutters, “As long as you’re back by Monday morning.”
“You really have to find another instructor. I can’t do this indefinitely.”
Another chuckle escapes him as he walks to his desk. “I’ll have a replacement in the next two months.”
I nod, and when I start to walk toward the door, he adds, “Misha Petrov will assist you during training. Let him handle Aurora D’Angelo.”
My eyebrow raises as I glance at my uncle. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
He nods, then a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I have a feeling there’s something between Misha and Aurora, and that’s why he attacked the yakuza yesterday. I’d like to test the theory.”
“Yeah, he beat the shit out of Seijo.” Nodding, I ask, “And Abigail?
What do we do about her?”
My uncle’s grin turns into a full-blown smirk. “Surely you can handle her?”
Fuck. Uncle Carson always has one eye on all the live security camera feeds. Did he see Abigail flirting with me last night?
“The odds are good that I’ll strangle the girl,” I mutter.
A burst of laughter escapes him. “As long as you don’t kill her on St.
Monarch’s grounds.”
Christ, help me.
He locks eyes with me, then his expression turns serious. “When are you going to settle down?”
“Not you, too. My mother nags me enough about the matter,” I mutter while shaking my head. “I’m happy alone. I don’t need a woman to fuck up my life.”
“As long as you’re happy, son,” he says, the fatherly love he feels for me showing on his face.
“I am,” I assure him before I walk out of the office.
I hate that people think you must be in a relationship to be happy. Having another person in my space twenty-four-seven will drive me insane.
I have my family, friends, and a successful diamond empire. There’s nothing lacking in my life.
Heading toward the studio, my phone buzzes. When I check the device, I see a text from Maxim and quickly open it.
Maxim: Fine. I’ll babysit the girl.
Nikolai: I owe you. I’m going home this coming weekend. Join me so we can catch up and discuss the contract.
Maxim: I’ll be there Saturday morning.
Stepping into the room, I see the Almeida twins and Caspian are already warming up. Abigail and Aurora are standing to the side with unsure expressions on their faces.
Misha joins us a couple of seconds later, an apprehensive look in his eyes.
Getting to work, I say, “Mr. Shinoda won’t be joining us for a couple of days.” I lock eyes with Misha. “Someone beat the shit out of him, so he’s indisposed.”
Gesturing at Aurora, I mutter, “Miss D’Angelo, you’re paired with Mr. Petrov. Miss Almeida, you’re with Mr. Almeida. Just keep practicing what you’ve already been taught. Miss Sartori, you’re with me.”
“Ah, sir?” Aurora looks like she’s about to puke.
“Yes, Miss D’Angelo.” I lock eyes with her and notice fear flitting over her face.
Nervously she rambles, “I’m not questioning you. I just want to know why I have to fight Mr. Petrov. He’s had two years of training, whereas I’ve had…none.”
Forcing myself to be patient with the girl, I answer, “That’s why he’s paired with you. Mr. Petrov is the best in his class. You and Miss Sartori need to be on par with the other attendees before we can proceed with the lessons, or you’ll both end up bloody and half-dead every day.”
Aurora accepts her fate and follows Misha to the back of the studio, where exercise equipment and weights are set up.
“Should I continue with training?” Caspian asks me.
I nod. “You and Paula can swap places in thirty minutes so you can spar with Duarte.” With all the attendees taken care of, I turn my attention to Abigail.
The corner of her mouth starts to lift in a seductive smirk that has my blood growing hotter.
Time to teach her another lesson.
Not saying a word, I walk to an open sparring mat, and when I turn around, I watch with annoyance as Abigail saunters closer as if she has all the time in the world.
Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. The moment she steps onto the mat, I dart forward. I duck, and my right shoulder slams into her stomach while I grab hold of her arm. In a matter of a second, I flip her over and she falls onto her back with a startled shriek.
I circle her, a bored expression on my face. “Your lack of training is pathetic.”
Abigail scowls at me as she climbs to her feet. “You can take that up with my father.” Her eyes flash with a mixture of anger and desire. “Hence the daddy issues.”
Christ, here we go again.
Her body is tense, and she’s on guard while she watches me like a hawk. “By the way, I prefer spankings to being tossed around.”
Lunging at her, I swipe her feet from under her, and the instant her ass hits the floor, I straddle her hips. Grabbing hold of her wrists, I force her arms above her head and lock them to the mat with one of my hands.
Abigail lets out a breathless chuckle. “Much better.” Her eyes dance with a daring light. “You look good on top of me.”
“Christ!” I mutter as my anger spirals out of control. Leaning down until we’re face to face, I fucking hope to God this woman sees I’m dead serious as I growl, “In my eyes, you’re a fucking child.”
Yeah, that’s not what my hand and dick thought last night while I climaxed at the memory of her seductive face and taunting words.
Shoving the thought away, I say, “I wouldn’t fuck you if my life depended on it.”
Pushing away from the woman, I climb to my feet and bark, “Up!”
Just as she gets up, I swipe her feet from beneath her again, then order, “Up!”
I keep dropping her ass to the floor, and only when rage burns in her eyes do I pin her to the mat again, sneering, “You’re fucking weak.”
Her body strains beneath mine, the friction of her soft curves taunting every hard inch of me.
“No, you’re just an asshole,” she snaps at me. Her stubborn gaze locks with mine, and she pushes against me again. “Stop trying to show me how
good you are and teach me how to protect myself.”
The corner of my mouth curves up. “Free yourself from this position, and I’ll consider it.”
Abigail struggles for a couple of minutes before crying angrily, “Jesus!”
I let out a dark chuckle before capturing her eyes. “You’re such an easy fucking target. With the hit out on your family, you won’t last long.”
“Fuck you,” she growls. When her body bucks up again, I climb off of
her.
The second she’s on her feet, I step closer to her. Abigail lifts her chin,
pure rage burning in her eyes while she rubs her wrists. The grip I had on her left red marks.
“Do you know what happens to a mafia princess if she’s captured?” The scowl on her face darkens as I hiss, “You’ll be passed from soldier to soldier, and only once being raped becomes a way of life to you, and they’ve killed your will to live, will they end your miserable existence.” I close the distance between us until I can feel her angry breaths on my jaw. “The bratva has many soldiers. You’ll be lucky if you see the same face twice. Can you handle that kind of wear and tear, little girl? Do you think you’ll be able to flirt your way out of the certain torture that awaits you?”
I can see how every word from my mouth delivers a blow to Abigail until she stares at me with a horror-struck expression. Still, she fights back by grinding the words through a clenched jaw, “Then do your fucking job and teach me how to protect myself instead of being a dickhead.”
I take a step back and stare at the feisty woman in front of me. “The flirting and sass stop. You’ll do everything I tell you. One wrong move, and you’re on your own. Got it?”
Her eyes narrow on me as she mutters, “Yes, sir.”
We stare at each other for a while longer, then I shake my head and walk away to check on the other attendees. “On the treadmill, Abigail. Full sprint. Pretend you’re running from the bratva.”
“I’ll freaking pretend I’m running from you,” she mutters under her breath as she walks to the back of the room.