Chapter 19
Nikolai
Jesus H. Christ.
Sitting in the office with Uncle Carson, we clean up the fucking mess that’s today.
“Five of my men were killed!” Taoka, the leader of the yakuza, shouts from where we have the video feed up on a monitor.
“Not on St. Monarch’s ground,” my uncle mutters.
Rage burns through me for what was done to Abigail. My tone is deadly as I growl, “Your men beat my woman into an unrecognizable mess! They can be glad they’re dead. I would’ve fed them to rats for daring to touch what’s mine.”
Yes, I said it. My woman. There’s no escaping the fact that Abigail is special to me. I don’t know if it’s love, but I’m dead fucking sure she’s mine.
And right now, there’s another fucking man comforting her.
My rage increases tenfold at the thought of Abigail standing in Alek Aslanhov’s arms.
Taoka stares at me, and I see a glimmer of fear on his face. I might not be the head of the bratva, but it is well known I’m not as merciful as my cousin.
“The yakuza initiated the attack,” Uncle Carson mutters. “Your men ambushed Aurora D’Angelo and Abigail Sartori. They held and tortured the women, hoping it would end in bloodshed between the women’s fathers and the bratva.”
“We, the bratva, take this as an attack on us,” I snap, unable to control the tone of my voice. “Unless you want a fucking war on your doorstep, you’ll pay for the damages.”
Damages my fucking ass. My woman was beaten so fucking brutally, she’s traumatized out of her fucking mind.
Everything that’s happened to her is because of the people she calls loved ones. Due to her father’s stubbornness, there was a hit on her life.
Due to her best friend’s boyfriend having a pissing contest with the yakuza, she got kidnapped and beaten.
I’m done standing on the sidelines of her life that’s an absolute fucking disaster.
She deserves her island where she can paint to her heart’s content, and I’ll make sure her dream becomes a reality.
Taoka lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “I respect the bratva. I’ll talk to Viktor myself.”
My eyes narrow on the man. “It wasn’t Viktor’s woman who was beaten.”
Taoka stares at me for a moment, then curses in Japanese. “What do you want?”
No amount of money can compensate for the suffering Abigail was forced to endure, but just to make a point, I mutter, “Five million euros. One for every soldier of the yakuza who dared to touch what’s mine.”
I’ll give the money to Abigail to do with what she wants. It will allow her to move out from under her father’s control.
Taoka nods, and swallowing the bitter pill that’s his pride, he says, “I apologize for my soldiers’ careless acts. I never sanctioned the attack.”
I nod and rise to my feet. “Transfer the funds to St. Monarch’s.”
Considering the meeting over with, I stalk out of the office and head to my suite so I can shower.
Stepping into my room, I rush through the tedious routine so I can get back to the infirmary. Taking into account all the shit that went down today, I’m surprised to find the infirmary quiet. I assume Aurora has been tended to and that she’s resting.
Stopping outside the room where Abigail is, I softly knock on the door. It only takes a moment before Alek opens. He nods for me to come in,
then whispers, “She just passed out.”
My eyes lock on Abigail, where she’s lying on the bed in a fetal position, her arms tightly wrapped around her middle.
Christ, my heart.
With the blood cleaned off her face, I can see all her bruises. Her right eye is painfully swollen, a butterfly bandage over a cut beneath her eyebrow.
Her jaw is every fucking shade of the rainbow, and her bottom lip is split open.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. I turn my head to look at Alek. “Thank you for killing the fuckers.”
He just nods.
Wanting to avoid future misunderstandings, I say, “She’s mine.”
He nods again. “I know.” He glances at Abigail. “You’ll have to be patient with her. She’s traumatized and will need time.” His eyes come back to mine. “A lot of time. Don’t push her.”
Suspicious that something else happened to Abigail, my eyes narrow on Alek. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He shakes his head. “Just be patient with Abbie.” Sighing, he adds, “And I’m not going to turn my back on her.”
I don’t know much about Alek, only that he’s unhinged and a bratva enforcer.
He lets out another sigh, then mutters, “Stop planning ways to kill me. I’m just her friend. I saved Abbie, so naturally, she feels safe with me. That’s all it is.”
He better mean it, or he’ll lose his fucking dick.
My eyes turn back to Abigail, and I step closer until I’m next to the bed.
Lifting a hand, I gently brush my fingers over her messy hair.
She lets out a whimper, curling into a smaller ball, and it fucking cracks my heart right down the middle.
My stomach drops, and my fucking soul shrivels as my eyes snap to Alek. Before I can ask if the unspeakable was done to her, he shakes his head.
Thank God.
I glance back at Abigail, my eyes drifting over every inch of her. She’s still wearing the same clothes, the blood on her shirt dry.
Walking to the door, I whisper, “I’ll get her clean clothes.”
The corner of Alek’s mouth lifts. “And I’ll stand here and guard her.” We stare at each other for a moment before I nod and leave the room. Grabbing a universal keycard from the security control room, I head to
Abigail’s suite and let myself in. Her soft scent instantly envelops me, and I take a moment to stare at the paintings on display by the windows.
I’ll make sure you get to paint to your heart’s content, moya dusha. It’s the second time I’ve called her my soul, and I only realize it now. Is that what this woman is to me?
I want her happy, and I’ll kill to keep her safe.
My heartbeat speeds up, and my mouth grows dry.
I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with Abigail Sartori.
Christ, the woman who used to be the bane of my existence with her flirtatious and carefree nature, has taken my heart prisoner.
When the fuck did it happen?
I’m at her mercy now, and having no control over whether she’ll love me back is unsettling.