Page 19 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

“What made you move?”

His eyes shifted to me again for a brief second before turning back onto the road.

“I was part of the rússkaya máfiya,” he revealed, his voice unapologetically matter-of-factly. There was no shame in it or discounting what it meant. “It was easier to start a new life here and beat them on a foreign turf.”

“Oh.”

“Is that a good oh or bad oh?” His question was a surprise. This man was a revelation, way too direct. Did he really care what I thought? For some odd reason, it struck me that he seemed like the man that never asked questions he didn’t care to hear answers to.

“I’m not sure,” I told him honestly. “But you said youwerepart of the mafia, as in past tense... so I guess that’s good.”

His lips tilted into a small smile and my heart sped up. Jesus, he was beautiful when he smiled. He was unlike anyone I had ever met.

“Indeed, I said Iwas.”

“Is that who kidnapped Anja?” I asked him, feeling slightly bold. “Is that the reason you and your brothers were hired to rescue her?”

I thought he would clamp down, refuse to answer but to my surprise he didn’t.

“Yes, we were probably her best bet since we used to be in that world.”

“And she is safe?” I asked again. “Scarlett too?”

“Yes, Olivia.” My name, in his deep voice and that barely detectable accent, sounded so sexy. “They are both safe now.”

Safe,I thought with relief. They were both safe.Am I safe?

With a side glance, I caught Nikolai’s profile… Yes, I was safe. Physically I was safe. Life was really strange. My first visit to the casino changed my life drastically, putting me on Malcome Schmidt’s radar and my life in danger. My second and last visit to the casino led me to this scarred and dangerous Russian that saved me.

Absentmindedly, I rubbed my throat. Although I hadn’t felt Malcome’s hands on my neck in a chokehold in six months, sometimes I still felt the pain. I knew it wasn’t real. It was all in my head but I didn’t know how to get rid of it.

“Were your-” I stopped short of finishing my question. I wasn’t sure how much was okay to ask.

“Yes?” he urged on. When I remained silent, he softly added, “Don’t ever be afraid to ask your questions, Olivia.”

This man was something else, surprising me constantly.

“Were your parents upset that you joined the mafia?” I asked before I’d chicken out. “You must have been young.”

There was no mistaking that Nikolai was older than me. If he moved fifteen years ago due to connections to the mafia, he was probably younger than me right now. What little I knew about organized crime, it usually took a while to prove yourself. So according to my calculations, he would have joined organized crime probably in his teens.

“My parents died when I was a toddler,” he replied without any emotions lingering in his voice and my sixth sense was telling me he had a very rough and hard upbringing. “I grew up in an orphanage. That was where I met Dimitry and Sergei, my brothers.”

“I’m sorry,” my hand reached out to him in comfort without a thought. Realizing too late what I had done, I quickly stopped myself and my hand fell limp into my lap.

“It is what it is,” his eyes traveled to my hand that almost touched him. It almost felt like he was willing me to touch him. Every fiber of my being urged me to touch him, but instead, I fisted my hands into little balls, willing them to remain still and not cave in. “And you?”

My eyes flared up. “What about me?”

“Your parents are still around,” his deep voice was soothing. “And you are very young.”

There was no mistaking the hinted meaning behind his words.

“I’m not that young. And my father is a selfish bastard,” I muttered back without thinking and winced at the bitterness in my voice. “He is a Supreme Court judge and thinks he is better than the rest of the world; when in fact, he’s more vile than most of the world. Both him and Malcome-” I stopped, my voice shaking with hurt, betrayal and anger. “Neither one of them deserve to be in the same world, much less a room, than most humans.”

“I’ll never let them get close to you again,” Nikolai vowed, his eyes flashing with a controlled anger but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “You are safe.”

A stranger I met less than five hours ago promised me safety that my own father didn’t care enough to provide. Now didn’t that speak volumes for this man?

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