Page 23 of Diamond Don

Whoever sent those two thugs after me is very wealthy, which doesn’t bode well for me.

Clearly, my abduction wasn’t a random act of violence, and my actual kidnapper must be a rich bastard if they can afford a room like this as my cell. They are also bold as hell, daring to take a woman in broad daylight in one of downtown’s busiest neighborhoods.

Who am I kidding? There is no point in pretending I have any doubts regarding my abductor’s identity. I am painfully aware there is only a man with the means and the motive to do such a thing.

For so long, I feared the day would come when the stronzo would decide A.J. and I had served our purposes. It makes sense that it’s happening right after I delivered to him the Flame of Mir, one of the most precious prizes any man could ever possess. It’s also possible he has learned of our plan to destroy him.

Regardless, in the end, his reasons for taking me don’t matter at all. One way or the other, he has decided to escalate our already precarious situation to an alarming degree. It just sucks that it happens to be right when we are close to finally taking him down.

I pray A.J. hasn’t been abducted as well. If she has escaped the man, then not all hope is lost. With any luck, she will follow through with our plan without me. Now more than ever, we are officially fresh out of options.

Maybe A.J. managed to get the information we needed from Camilla. I hope they are safe and sound. Not for just my sake. Whatever hell the Italian has planned for me, it won’t be as terrible as the torture he will unleash on A.J. if he sets out to punish her. He never got over the insult of her daring to steal from him. I was merely a useful pawn in his hands, while A.J. was the sole focus of his contempt.

I have to believe A.J. is fine. Otherwise, I won’t be able to deal with whatever the villain has in store for me. My only chance of escaping this room alive is to keep a cool head. I must hold on to the hope that A.J. will succeed in our quest and this nightmare will end soon.

I force myself to take a deep, calming breath. Everything will be just fine. This whole kidnapping situation is just a bump in our road to victory. A.J. and I will laugh about it one day as we brag to all our friends about our daring feat.

I can handle it—I will handle it. Under no circumstance will I give the stronzo the satisfaction of seeing me even break a sweat.

The skies turn a deeper shade of orange through the grand windows as I mentally run through multiple scenarios, wondering what will happen next.

A rattling sound startles me, and I almost jump out of my skin. It’s coming from the door at my left. I turn to face it as much as my restraints allow me.

The unmistakable sound of a key being inserted into the lock makes my heart beat a mile per minute. The doorknob turns and I stop breathing.

I suppose I should be flattered that the horrid man thinks so highly of my skills that he felt the need to lock the room’s only entrance point in addition to tying me down.

With a mix of both dread and anticipation, I don’t move even a muscle as the door opens.

My kidnapper enters the room, and I feel as if my thundering heart halts to a sudden, brusque stop inside my chest.

I gasp, loudly. I might faint for the first time in my life.

Nik stands in front of me, as devastatingly handsome as I remembered him.

Shocked, I struggle to believe my own eyes. I can’t move, can’t speak, or even breath.

The man I have fantasized about for the past week gives me a cruel smirk. It doesn’t reach his beautiful, dark eyes, staring at me with undisguised contempt.

“Miss me?”

10

NIK

I should be having a great time. And yet, I’m having a terrible time.

Seeing Kat again is pure bliss but also sheer torture.

I want to kill her. I need to kiss her.

Will her maddening hold over me ever end? Or at least lessen?

I’m incredibly disappointed with myself. The woman stole my most prized possession and maybe even played a hand in my best friend’s murder. But somehow, I still want her just as much as before.

Last week was a blur for me. Moments after I learned of Maxim’s death, my men and the Metropolitan Museum’s security staff informed me that my priceless red diamond was missing.

My recollection of the aftermath—and the commotion that followed both events—is uncharacteristically dim. I suppose I was too numb and shocked then to do anything beyond go through the motions of doing what I had to do—as Maxim’s next-of-kin, sole proprietor of the Flame of Mir, and the bratva’s pakhan.

---