Page 8 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

She nodded, her expression growing serious. "My husband worked for someone... bad. Dangerous people. We didn't know how to get out. And then Nikita stepped in. He didn't have to, but he did. He took care of everything, cleared the debts, made sure no one would come after us. He gave us our lives back."

The warmth in her voice was genuine, and I could see the gratitude in her eyes. She truly believed in the goodness of the man who now controlled my life.

"Why would he do that?" I asked quietly, trying to reconcile the ruthless man I knew with the version she was describing.

The woman smiled again, this time a little sadly. "He's not the monster people think he is. Yes, he has power, but he uses it to protect those who can't protect themselves. He's done that for many people."

Her words hung in the air between us, a stark contrast to everything I had seen so far. Nikita, the man who ruled with fear and control, was also capable of kindness? Of protection?

It didn't fit. It didn't make sense.

I thanked the woman for the tea, excusing myself as politely as I could. My thoughts swirled as I walked back through the mansion. The more I watched Nikita, the more I realized just how much control he wielded—not just over his men, but over everything. It was in the way they sat, the way they waited for his approval, the way their eyes darted toward him whenever a decision was being made. He was in charge, and there was no question about it.

But what struck me the most wasn't his control over them—it was the coldness in his eyes. There was no warmth, no softness. Everything about him was calculated, deliberate.

The woman's story about Nikita was so different from the man I had come to know. Could it be true? Could he really have saved her family out of the goodness of his heart? Was there another side to this I didn't see yet?

I couldn't help but think back to the bar, when I saw something more in his eyes and felt that pull toward him. I didn't just feel it at the bar, either. When his hand was in my hair, I felt something then, too, a stirring deep inside me.

A yearning.

The more I thought about it, the more conflicted I became. I had come here with a plan, with a purpose—to take down the man who had destroyed my life. But now... now I wasn't so sure I even understood who Nikita really was. Could I live with myself if I killed a man I was wrong about?

The power he wielded, the way he controlled everyone around him—it should have been enough to keep me focused on my mission. Right?

As I climbed back into bed, my thoughts drifted to that moment between us in the hall, the way his fingers felt tightening in my hair. I had gasped in anticipation. I had wanted him to pull my hair, and I didn't want him to stop there.

I groaned and burrowed into my bed. I couldn't afford to be distracted by the way Nikita—his strength, his body, his presence—called to me.

I had to stay focused. I had to remember why I was here.

But could I resist him long enough to kill him?

CHAPTER 4

Lily

The knock on my bedroom door came without warning, a sharp reminder that I had no idea what was going on at any given moment. I sat up in bed and looked around. The heavy curtains were barely letting in any light, resulting in an oppressive gloom settling around. It felt fitting. Since moving in, this mansion had felt more like a beautifully crafted prison, designed to dazzle from the outside but suffocate anyone trapped inside.

And trapped was exactly how I felt.

The door opened without me saying a word, and Nikita entered, dressed sharply in his dark suit, as always. His cold eyes assessed me, just as they had during the empty, hollow ceremony that had bound us together. He was emotionless then, and he looked the same now. I couldn't read him, but there was something about the way he stood that put me on edge.

"We need to talk," he said flatly, his voice devoid of warmth or any indication that we were now supposed to be husband andwife. His words were always orders, commands wrapped in cool detachment.

I raised an eyebrow, already feeling a surge of frustration that I didn't bother holding back. "What is it now?"

Nikita stepped further into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "There's a charity gala tonight. We'll be attending together."

Of course. Just another public appearance. A formality in our manufactured marriage. I couldn't help the sarcastic edge that crept into my voice as I replied. "And what exactly do you expect from me at this... gala?"

He ignored the challenge in my tone. "You'll follow my lead. Smile when necessary. Keep your responses brief. These people are powerful. Dangerous. They'll be watching you closely."

I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. "You mean they'll be watching us. Isn't that the point?"

Nikita's gaze hardened slightly. "Yes, they'll be watching us. Which is why you'll need to be convincing. This is about more than just appearances. It's a test."

I exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to throw something. "A test. Wonderful. And what are the rules for your little game?"

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