Page 40 of Taming Mika

Leaving Mika naked and needy was excruciating, and my cock throbs against the zipper of my pants just thinking about it. I don’t like that I had to leave her when she was so close to walking out the door, either. My men know not to let her off the premises until I get back, but the fiery horsewoman is unruly enough—I wouldn’t put it past her to try slipping past them if I didn’t do a good enough job of convincing her to stay. Still, I couldn’t just ignore the fact that Nikolai sent men to attack myhouse. Maybe he thought I was there or maybe not—but Nina is, which makes his actions unacceptable, and from what Marco told me, this is more than some dead bastard’s head being delivered in a box. That’s why I’m on my way down to the city in the chopper to sort this all out.

I can see the black smoke still dissipating in the air before we reach the house, and my blood boils as I glare out the helicopter window. No one got hurt in the fire—but still, ramming through my front gates to launch Molotov cocktails inside my front windows? If Nikolai thinks this is going to convince me to marry his daughter, he’s completely unhinged. Intimidation doesn’t work with me, though it is having a significant impact.

I clench my jaw as my father’s words of warning echo in my ears,coming back to haunt me.“You can’t trust the Russians—not with Nikolai Kapranov in power. He’s as likely to stick a knife in your back as he is to shake your hand. The Russians play by their own rules, and they’ll expect you to play by them, too. Better to just keep your distance and keep your defenses sharp along the border.”

I might not agree with my father on all the decisions he made, but I’m starting to realize he might have been right on this one. I never should have agreed to marry Ana Kapranov. At least I know what I’m dealing with now—before Nikolai had had the opportunity to get a firm grip on my ballsack. Once he had me locked into a marriage alliance, I could have been stuck supporting any number of rash, hot-tempered moves he might make. I would have been obligated to support him, while he seems far too willing to make enemies. Right now, it’s looking like I might just become one of those enemies, which I’m not entirely sure would be worse than tying our families together at this point. But if I can get him back to the negotiating table, I still believe I can make something out of this alliance.

If I can’t, this could end in a gruesome war, and I don’t want that either.

Sighing, I lean my head back against the headrest of my seat and massage my temples. The chopper slowly sinks toward the helipad located in the side yard of my estate. Marco’s waiting for me as soon as we land, and Vincent follows me out of the bird as I hop down and head toward the house.

“The fire’s out, boss,” Marco states as soon as we’re far enough from the chopper to talk.

“How’s Nina?” I ask.

“Pretty good, considering. We kept her in her room, so she’s aware of the situation, but she hasn’t seen it.”

“Good. Keep it that way if you can. I’m taking her upstate tonight.”

My head of security nods, and when I glance back toward the house, my steps falter. Now that we’ve rounded the corner of the building, I can see the damage close up. Most of the home that’s been in my family for generations still looks whole, but the windows in mystudy—where I’ve sat down with Nikolai on more than one occasion—have all been blown out, and black scars lick up the rock surrounding it. The fire must have gotten bigger after Marco called.

Heading up the front steps, I can smell the smoke lingering in the air, a combination of burnt wood, paper, and carpet mingled with accelerant. Several maids and housing staff bustle in and out of the office under Henry’s supervision, saving what little they can from the wreckage, and as I step into the study, they depart with a quick bow of acknowledgment. I’m a little surprised they managed to save anything. It looks like two full cocktails of accelerant were launched into the space, one landing on the Persian rug just beneath my mahogany desk—the wood is now scorched beyond recognition, with one intricately carved leg missing entirely. The other must have landed on one of the leather chairs near the wall, because a hole was eaten out of its center, and the oil painting of a fox hunt above it has been damaged beyond repair.

From his choice of destructive weapon and the room Nikolai targeted, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is another message. If so, I think it’s safe to say his point is that the window of possibility for negotiations is closing. He’s not interested in talking things out. At the very least, Nikolai’s trying to shake me, and I won’t let him.

“I want a crew out here as soon as possible to start repairs,” I state as Henry steps up beside me. “Sooner, even. Whatever can’t be salvaged, get rid of it. Order whatever we’ll need to replace. I want the windows repaired and this room looking like nothing happened by the end of this week.” If I can get Nikolai in for negotiations, I want him to see he can’t touch me—that his efforts don’t even leave a mark.

Damage assessed, I head upstairs to Nina’s room. My men stand guard on either side of the doorway, and I press the button on the wall beside the handle, triggering the signal light inside her door that will give Nina a heads-up before I enter. As soon as I step inside her room and close the door, the familiar scent of her peach blossom perfume reaches my nose, the subtle smell soft and welcoming. Her room is decorated with a simplistic sophistication that suits my sister’s warm, contented personality. A cream-and-green-pinstripeoverstuffed reading chair sits next to the bay window. The sage green drapes match the comforter on her queen-size bed and fit well with the antique white furniture that makes her room feel more rustic and old-timey than the rest of the house. She keeps her space clean and neat, aside from the massive stacks of books that cover the surfaces of her desk and dresser. The ornate gold-framed oil paintings that decorate her walls are the only part of her childhood decor she’s kept, and the woodland landscapes lean toward a mystical feel, like fairies might be hiding behind any of the thick tree trunks they illustrate.

Though her room naturally feels peaceful to me, Nina looks like she’s been pacing, her fingers twined into knots in front of her stomach, and when she pauses to glance up at me, relief washes across her face.

“I’ve been so worried,” she signs, quickly crossing the distance between us, her gray silk knee-length wrap dress flowing out behind her. “You didn’t come home last night, and then with the fire this morning—” She peers up at me, her hazel eyes wide and concerned. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “I stayed at the upstate property last night. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

Nina brushes off my concern as she rolls her eyes. “Please. I didn’t even know something was wrong until the fire was pretty much put out, and the guards wouldn’t let me leave my room, so I haven’t seen anything remotely traumatic. Half the house could be gone for all I know, but from where I stand, everything’s peachy. They just better not have ruined the library.”

I know she’s trying to be lighthearted, but it’s that first part that unsettles me most. Nina is just so damnvulnerable. Thankfully, her room is on the back side of the house and less exposed, but if they threw explosives through the windows right below hers, would she even know? In a fire, she could end up trapped without adequate warning. The men know to keep her safe, and I trust them to do that to the best of their abilities, but I can’t ignore the fact that my sister will always be at a higher risk in our world that’s already too dangerous and violent. I’m furious that Nikolai would target myhome at all, where Nina should be safe, when her boundaries are already so limited. It seems to me he’s decided to intentionally antagonize me, and I wonder if this newest stunt means he’s chosen to throw out the idea of an alliance completely.

“Marco said you would tell me what happened when you got here,” Nina presses, her fingers flying at a rapid pace.

“They’re just messages—the Russians telling me that breaking off the engagement was the wrong choice.” It’s an understatement, but I don’t want to make Nina any more anxious than she already is.

Still, Nina pales visibly, and her eyes widen. “They’re really not taking it well,” she observes.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I tease, falling back on one of Nina’s favorite snarky remarks she used on me a hundred times growing up. But when I smile, it feels bitter, and it’s too hard to keep it up.

She doesn’t seem to be falling for the attempt at levity, as her eyebrows shoot up. Sighing, I scrub my face, the stress and frustration raising my blood pressure and making my skin feel too tight.

Grabbing my hand, Nina pulls it away from my face to look me in the eye as she frowns. “What do you meanmessages—as in plural?” she signs.

Shaking my head, I recount how the threats started with letters, then packages—though I keep the specifics about the severed head vague—before moving on to the more direct tactics with the conflict between our men at the club, the bomb in Mika’s truck, now the fire. As I fill Nina in on the basics of what’s happened since I broke off the engagement, my wheels start to turn.

Talking about it casts new light on Nikolai’s actions. He’s clearly escalating—and fast. Meanwhile, I’ve been distracted and spinning my wheels, thinking we could sit down and discuss this like men once he’s had time to cool down. But that plan won’t work with him. I see that now. If I want to speak with the Kapranovs before this turns into a bloody war, I need to hunt Nikolai down and demand a conversation. It’ll mean putting my neck on the line and entering the territory he’s very clearly expressed that my men are no longer allowed.

I’m willing to risk my life to put an end to this, though I’m sorelytempted to go the more violent route after he tried to kill Mika and attacked my home with Nina in it. But I haven’t given it my best effort to defuse the Russians yet, and after my selfish decision to call off the wedding, I at least owe my men that.

“You really must care about her,” Nina says softly, her spoken words snapping me out of my dark thoughts.

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