Page 25 of Nikola
He didn’t answer, but in half an hour, he finally smiled that shark grin that usually scared everyone. He met my gaze and patted my cheek affectionately.
“I got him, zayka.” He closed the laptop, placed it on the coffee table in front of us, and stood up. “Don’t go into the game. I’ll be back soon.”
It took Nikola exactly six hours and thirty-five minutes to get to the hacker who stole my Robux. It was some boy I shared a class with. Nikola roughed him up a bit, then got all of my Robux back for me. That time when my parents came to pick me up and take me back to Italy, I hugged Nikola—my hero—tighter than ever.
“What’s that about?” Papa demanded.
Nikola waved his hand dismissively. “Roblox.”
Papa glared at Sasha. “That’s the most useless game. Why did you get her hooked on it?”
“Because she’s a kid and she asked me to. Duh!” Sasha loved taunting Papa. “That's the reason I’m her favorite. We eat popcorn while I watch a movie and she plays Roblox.”
“She prefers Italian movies with me,” Papa protested.
“I hate to tell you, but Skye hates watching movies,” Nikola corrected them both, and I flashed them all a sheepish smile.
I recognized that it was a rarity to have such a family, but I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. I still remembered the loneliness before Sasha and Branka adopted me into their family.
Of course, in hindsight, it was a silly thing to cry about, but Nikola’s actions made me trust him even more. Despite his sometimes crazy behavior and determination to push me away, I was always safe with him.
Sasha and Branka’s short adoption period when I was five connected me to the Nikolaev family in an unconventional way, and somehow it made sense that we would forever have this bond and attraction. It was the best of both worlds.
Right?
So why was he resisting this attraction that clearly we both felt? He wanted me, deep down I felt it, and nobody could convince me otherwise.
It was only six in the afternoon when I decided to corner Nikola. Like a scorned woman, I stomped out of my dorm building and made my way through various parking lots until I reached his dorm.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
I banged on the door with force, hoping Nikola would hear my frustration. Nothing happened. So I did it again.Boom. Boom. Boom.Still nothing.
Certain that he was in there, I pushed on the door handle, swung the door open, and entered the suite, only to find it empty.
Maybe he’s in his room, I thought to myself.
I padded across the empty suite. The truth was it almost looked abandoned. It was too neat, like it was unused. I guess it made sense since most of its tenants weren’t even full-time students.
Nikola only had to turn in his thesis and he was done. His father already handed him some of the reins of the Nikolaev criminal empire. Matteo Vitale married Arianna, and then there was Gabriel Santos. The truth was that he shouldn’t be here either. His official excuse: he assisted with some class lectures.
I suspected he stayed for Amara.
I entered Nikola’s room, the whiff of that familiar cologne permeated the air, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was only a mess of both packed and empty boxes sittingaround the bedroom. I weaved my way through the boxes, reaching the closet, and peered inside.
What the fuck?
My eyes zeroed in on a pair of handcuffs hanging among the leather jackets, Bond-like suits, and jeans. Ignoring them all, I reached for the handcuffs and traced them with my fingers while I wondered why Nikola had them.
Duh, he’s into kinky shit, my mind mocked.
Would I trust him enough to let him handcuff me? There was no doubt that I trusted him, but the thought of being handcuffed made my chest tighten with anxiety. If that alone gave me such a reaction, it was clear I wouldn’t be able to handle anything more.
Just as that revelation sunk in, I felt aclick.
The handcuff snapped shut around my left wrist with a cold, unforgiving finality, and a surge of panic clawed its way up my throat. My breath hitched, quick and shallow, as if the air itself had thickened, choking me. I yanked on the cuff desperately, but the sharp bite of metal only tightened against my skin, sending a spike of pain shooting up my arm.
No, no, no.
