Ava
“Mr. And Mrs Volkov, We’ve been expecting you”, the restaurant manager greets us as soon as we step into The Azure Reserve, his tone polished, yet the tremble in his voice betrays the professional demeanour he’s going for. He extends a slight bow, then lifts his gaze to meet Nikolai’s. “It’s such an honour to have you dining with us tonight. The rooftop has been reserved for your privacy as per your request, Mr Volkov.”
It has? I glance back at Nikolai, my gaze roaming his face, searching for a hint of awareness, but his expression remains impassive as always, giving nothing away while mine is wide-eyed.
When Nikolai told me we were eating at the Azure Reserve, I assumed that we would be eating in the main restaurant alongside the other patrons. Maybe we’d be given a private booth since he was the owner but that was as far as I expected.
Nikolai’s hand on my waist remains steady as we follow the manager through the luxurious dining area.
Compared to reality, The pictures I’ve seen of The Azure in magazines don’t come close to capturing its magnificence.
The ceiling is decorated with chandeliers, which create a warm, almost serene atmosphere throughout the restaurant, which is further magnified by the soft music filling the air and mingling with the faint clinking of glasses and the soft chattering of the people present in the restaurant.
When we arrive at the private elevator, the manager presses a button, and the doors slide open, giving way for us to enter.
Nikolai guides me inside first, and as the elevator ascends, I find myself acutely aware of my husband’s presence behind me. His hand hasn’t left my waist since we entered the restaurant and his thumb is now drawing slow circles against the curve of my hip, the small deliberate motion enough to send my heart thrashing in my chest and blood rushing to my ears and yet somehow I remain calm until the elevator dings signalling our arrival to the rooftop.
The restaurant manager is the first person off the elevator and I follow behind him without a second thought.
The cool night air kisses my skin as I step onto the rooftop, and I am completely unable to absorb the view all at once.
The rooftop is enchanting, a far cry from the inside.
Until today, I’ve never even been inside the Azure Reserve, and now here I am, staring out into a sea of twinkling lights from the roof of the most prestigious restaurant in the whole of Chicago.
Somebody pinch me.
Elegant lanterns hang from thin, silver chains in the ceiling above the dining area, adding a soft, ethereal presence to the overall scenery. Each table is adorned with delicate glasses, polished silverware, and white roses in crystal vases.
I glance back at Nikolai who is no longer standing in the elevator but is now on the rooftop a few feet away from me, an expression that looks similar to admiration tainting his features as he watches me.
He’s looking at me like he can’t believe I’m in front of him and something about it sends my head reeling.
Lust-filled kisses I can handle, but having him look at me like that, all gentle and tender, as if we are an actual couple who came to enjoy the evening in each other’s company and not two people forcefully thrust upon one another, makes me feel things. Things I don’t think I’m ready to feel just yet.
The manager takes us to a beautifully set table near the edge of the rooftop which has been positioned to face an unobstructed view of the city while offering us a bit of privacy.
The city stretches out beneath us, the view so breathtakingly beautiful that I have to admit it only adds to the magic of the evening.
“Would you like the menu, Mrs Volkov?”
I glance up at the manager with a small nod, muttering a soft “Yes, thank you.”
He nods politely and sets a menu down in front of me before setting another in front of Nikolai.
I scan through today’s selection-everything looks so good-and finally decide to go with something I’m familiar with. Nikolai does the same, and soon enough, our order arrives.
“If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask,” the manager says, giving us a courteous bow before stepping away to leave us in each other’s company once more.
I pick up my fork, fidgeting with the utensil as I stare at the beautifully plated meal in front of me. The silence between us stretches to the point of unease and I can feel Nikolai’s gaze on me even when I try to ignore it.
“You’re quiet” Nikolai observes, his voice smooth as he picks up his knife and starts to cut into his steak, “Is the food not to your liking?”
He sounds concerned and I shake my head,
“No, it’s perfect”
“Then what is the problem, Solnyshko? You’re not usually this quiet.”
I hesitate, my fingers nervously toying with the lonely piece of asparagus on my plate. “I’m just realising I don’t know much about you like I thought I did,” I admit softly, glancing up at him. If he hadn’t told me, I would’ve never thought that he was the owner of a restaurant, let alone one as prestigious as this.
“I’m just overwhelmed, I guess”
Nikolai pauses mid-cut, his knife hovering over his steak. His eyes flick up to meet mine, sharp and assessing, though there’s a flicker of something softer lurking beneath his usual stoic mask.
“You don’t have to be”, he tells me, “Isn’t that what tonight is for? For you to get to get to know me better.”
“It is but …”
“No buts Solnyshko. I want to be completely honest with you tonight. You have a question about me, you ask and then I answer. It’s as simple as that”
I chew on my bottom lip, “How can I know that you’ll be honest with me?”
His jaw tightens and something flashes in his eyes before he drops his knife on his plate and adjusts in his seat, “I do not lie, Solnyshko,” he says, his tone low but resolute. “When I said I wanted to get to know each other I meant it. I brought you out here tonight because I want you to be comfortable enough to ask me the questions you need to ask”
I raise an eyebrow, my fingers tightening around the fork, “I am comfortable.” I tell him, my hold on my fork tightening as I meet his gaze, “I just want to be sure that you won’t lie to me”
He leans back in his chair, his gaze roaming my face in a way that makes my body tense, “How about this, Solnyshko, I promise you that tonight I will not withhold anything from you. I will tell you whatever it is you want to know about me, even if it’s something that no one else knows”
“I feel like there’s a catch to this”
He chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender, “No catch, Solnyshko” He promises, “You have my word”
I glance over at the city beneath us, poking my tongue against the inside of my cheek as I consider his words.
“Anything?” I ask meeting his gaze again
“Anything” he confirms, leaning forward ever so slightly “Ask away Solnyshko, For you I will tell all my secrets”
Heat spreads all over my skin his words wrapping me like a sweet caress. Why did he have to say it like that?
The city lights below twinkle like stars below us but my focus remains trained on him. I set my fork down and lean forward so my elbows can rest on the table. “Alright, then, Tell me something about yourself, something that no one else knows”
For a moment he’s unable to respond. It’s clear he hadn’t expected me to ask him that and yet he doesn’t back down. When I googled popular first date questions earlier today (I was nervous, sue me), this particular question managed to pop up under an article titled ‘Popular First date Questions Not To Ask’. The reason was that it was deemed too loaded for a first-date question, thereby making it a question to avoid. Now, if I were to be on a normal first date with a man I didn’t know, then I probably would’ve skipped it, but this was Nikolai. A man that I was married to and, for some strange reason, was oddly fascinated by.
“When I was sixteen I wanted to run away from the Bratva”
His admission catches me off guard, and I stare at him for what feels like an entire meeting, waiting for him to continue.
“I never wanted to take over the Bratva after my father died, so I did what any smart yet irrevocably dense sixteen-year-old would do. I told him I was going to leave.”
I imagine a younger version of the man before me standing in front of his father a defiant look gleaming in his eyes as he told his father about his intention. I would’ve found the image my mind created amusing if it weren’t for the look in his eyes.
“What happened?” I ask softly, leaning in. Never had I ever once considered the possibility that Nikolai might’ve hated what he does for a living at any point in his life.
Nikolai lets out a rough exhale, his lips curling into a faint, almost bitter smile “He did not take it too well. My father threatened me, saying if I left, he would make my brother take my place and he knew I would never allow that to happen”
I’ve always sensed that to Nikolai, his brother was someone he wanted to protect, which was why his death hit him harder than the rest of his family and why he was still trying to seek vengeance for him.
“Mikhail wasn’t like me.” He continues, “He was kind, and he had a heart, Something you know is quite uncommon in my world. He had always been against joining the Bratva from the moment he knew what it entailed and I knew it would kill him to have to do it because I ran away. So I stayed”
“Even though you didn’t want to?”
He nods, “My father was not a man who took kindly to threats, even if said threats were from his own son.”
My heart sinks, something tells me I’m not going to like what he says next.
“What did he do to you?”
“He punished me. He threw me into a room that my brother and I liked to call the punishment room where he forced me to stay for three days without any food or water until I had learned not to threaten him under his roof”
My stomach churns at the thought of a sixteen-year-old Nikolai being forced to endure such cruelty simply because he wanted his freedom. I knew Nikolai’s father wasn’t a person to uphold any sort of moral standards but locking a child up without any food or water for three whole days has to be a whole new low.
Even for monsters like him.
“That’s terrible,” I murmur, my voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that”
I don’t realize I’m reaching over the table until my hand touches his. My fingers tighten over his, and for a brief moment, he doesn’t move. Then, he flips his hand, palm up, allowing our fingers to fully intertwine. He squeezes my hand once and I don’t know if it’s out of need or comfort.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you survive during those days?”
Sentencing a sixteen-year-old in a room without any food or water meant certain death for anyone else. Yet, Nikolai had survived.
A small smile touches his lips, “I had a friend. I don’t remember her face because we never met but I remember the sound of her voice because she wouldn’t stop talking.” He lets out a small laugh and I can tell it’s one embedded in deep sadness, “She was locked up by my father in the other room and somehow we found an opening, a gap in the walls that allowed her to slip some of her food for me”
His voice softens as he talks about the girl he met while he was locked up. I’ve never heard Nikolai talk about someone with so much care and adoration before. The sincerity in his words stirs something deep within me, and a sudden pang of jealousy pricks at my stomach, catching me off guard.
“It sounds like you cared about her a lot,”
The corner of his eyelids crinkle, “I did, She was my first friend. My only friend”
“What happened to her?” Did she make it? I want to ask because despite my feelings a part of me still felt sorry for the girl because as much as I tried to forget it, I knew what it felt like to be locked up. Imprisoned against your will and not knowing if help was going to come.
“She made it out. One morning, I heard the guards saying that my father had chosen to let her go,” Nikolai says, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.
“I’m glad she made it out,” I say.
The smile on his lips stretches but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Me too”