Page 87 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

“I will always keep you safe,” I pledged. She and Tasha were my family. I knew Olivia hadn’t announced she considered me part of her family but she was part of mine. “Olivia, I don’t want to lie to you.” She stiffened at my words. I turned my face into her hand and kissed the palm of her hand to offer assurance. “My life, the way I grew up, made me ruthless. Sometimes even cruel.” She nodded in understanding, and I knew without a doubt she did understand. “But there is more. There is darkness within me and my tastes can be singular. I understand that considering your past experience, you’d never want that for yourself. And I would never ask it of you or put you in that position. So when you decide you don’t want me anymore, I will accept it, but I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”

I would never lie to her. I wanted her happiness and what was best for her. With the hollow feeling in my chest, I knew I wasn’t the best for her. But I wanted to be. I wanted to be the only man for her.

“I don’t want you to let me go,” her voice was soft and brought out feelings I had never experienced before. It was the hope of a future with someone I loved and that would love me for who I was; something I had never dared to even dream before. She continued speaking, “And if you have certain tastes, then I’m willing to try them. I want you, just the way you are. You’ve accepted me the way I am; I want to do the same. Everything else, we’ll figure it out as we go.”

Fuck, this woman was everything I had ever wanted and more. I was hers.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Olivia

Iwatched Nikolai speed down the highway, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like pieces of me were finally coming together. He was willing to kill for me; he killed for me, to protect me. So I would give his different tendencies a try. There would never be anyone better than Nikolai; he made me feel safe, protected, and loved.

I turned my head to catch a glimpse of the city that rose in the distance.

“You mentioned we are going north. But where exactly are we?” I asked him.

“We are approaching the city Murmansk,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the road as he drove way past the speed limit. “It is situated at the end of a bay off the Barents Sea. The city is decent in size but the population has been declining since the Cold War.”

“Is it an old city?”

The city was nearing with each second, buildings marking the city skyline. One thing that fascinated me during our European travels was the age of the cities. There was just something magical to think humans hundreds of years ago roamed along a similar path.

“Not as old as some other cities across Europe. It was founded during the Russian Empire, but has always had an urban purpose due to its location.”

“Oh.” It sounded fascinating but urban cities weren’t particularly of interest to me. “Will we stay in the city?”

“No, I have an estate outside the city, directly on the shore,” he told me. “Anastasia and Dimitry are staying on the other side of the Barents Sea, in a city called Naryan-Mar. He has a similar estate there.”

“It sucks that we are so close but so far away,” I retorted with a deep sigh.

“We’ll see them soon,” he promised. “Sergei and Scarlett, too.”

The city wasn’t a large one but it had its little charm with its location along the shores of the city.

“Winters here must be brutal,” I muttered. I couldn’t imagine living under constant freezing temperatures and snow-covered grounds for long periods of time. “I imagine even the sea around the shorelines freezes in the winter?”

“Yes, winters are pretty cold and long,” he agreed. “But surprisingly the sea around the city doesn’t freeze.” Now that was surprising. “But you must be used to cold winters too. Living in Washington, D.C.”

“Yes, we experienced some cold winters. Staying with Anastasia on the East Coast had us experience those. I’m a California girl, preferring never to pull out a jacket. My parents mainly lived in San Francisco till about ten years ago when my father got the Supreme Court judge position in D.C.”

As soon as I brought up my father, I regretted it. I could feel him tense a bit, so I quickly changed the subjects.

“Which part of Russia did you grow up in?”

“Moscow.”

“Winters must have been brutally cold there,” I prompted him, hoping he’d share some of him with me too. Although I felt close to him, and the safest I’d ever been, I still didn’t know much about his childhood. He mentioned he grew up in the orphanage but didn’t divulge more than that.

“Yes, winters are pretty harsh in Moscow.”

Again, he didn’t reveal much. I really wanted to know more about him but I wasn’t going to push him to confide in me either.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, feeling nosy and resorting to my usual response. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

I thought he was done talking and surprised me when spoke up.

“I told you I grew up in an orphanage,” he started, his eyes never wavering from the road. “That’s where I met Dimitry and Sergei. We became very close but it was hard. We often didn’t get fed and winters were especially cruel. Sometimes we didn’t have adequate clothing. Well, make that most of the time. In harsh winters, that wasn’t an ideal scenario.”

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