Chapter 3: Eyes like Yours
1124 Words
Chapter 3: Eyes like Yours.
.
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I didn’t sleep. I couldn't. Thoughts of different ways I'd kill Nikolai if he was in charge of my dad's death kept me up.
The photographs burned behind my eyes, replaying like a sick hallucination every time I closed them. My father’s face, slashed through with an X. My own, untouched but marked with a promise... Not yet.
By the time the morning came, I had made a decision. I needed answers.
I found Nikolai in his study, sipping coffee like he hadn’t just spent years plotting my family’s destruction. His suit was immaculate, not a wrinkle out of place. I wanted to slap him.
I tossed the photograph onto the polished surface between us. "Care to explain?"
His dark eyes flicked to the image before meeting mine, unreadable. "Explain what?"
"The red Xs. My father’s face slashed out like a trophy. And me... ” I swallowed. "What does 'Not yet' mean?"
Nikolai leaned back, steepling his fingers. "It means exactly what it says."
I clenched my fists. "You planned my family’s downfall. And what? I’m next?"
A shadow of amusement played at the corner of his lips. "If you were next, Lyra, you wouldn’t be standing here."
A chill ran down my spine. I hated how he spoke... so calm, so sure. Like my entire existence was nothing more than a game he had already won.
"Why?" My voice was hoarse, my throat tight. "Why did you do it?"
His eyes darkened, something unreadable passing through them before vanishing behind his usual mask. "Go get dressed. We have guests tonight."
I slammed my hands onto the desk. "You’re not answering me!"
"And I won’t," he said, voice soft but deadly. "Some doors shouldn’t be opened, wife."
I wanted to scream, to tear his perfect world apart the way he had destroyed mine. Instead, I turned on my heel and left, knowing I’d get no more from him tonight.
**
Nikolai gave me the illusion of freedom. A pretty cage with doors that only opened under his watch.
He assigned a shadow to me... a man called Nico, silent and built like a wall of steel. He had a mark that went across his face but eyes that saw everything.
No matter where I went, he followed. When I mapped the estate in my head, taking note of the locked doors and guarded hallways, Nico saw. But he never stopped me.
I wasn’t sure if that was mercy or another one of Nikolai’s games.
Then, there was Lorenzo Volkov.
Nikolai’s father was nothing like I expected. He was dying, his body thinning, skin stretched taut over frail bones. Yet, his dark eyes held sharpness, a depth that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.
“You have her eyes.”
I blinked. “Whose?”
He smiled, the corners of his lips barely curving. “Your mother’s.”
Shock rippled through me. I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a slow exhale.
“You’re wondering why I asked to see you.”
I nodded.
Lorenzo’s thin fingers traced the armrest of his chair. “I once loved a woman with eyes like yours.” He coughed, a wet, rattling sound. “We Volkov men, we destroy things we love.”
A cold weight settled in my stomach. “I feel I should apologise.”
His eyes glimmered with something I couldn’t place. “Don't. You'll need all of that sweetness here. In this house, we only sharpen knives.”
He reached into his robe, pulling out a small, old key. He pressed it into my palm, fingers curling around mine. His grip was weak, but the weight of it sent a shiver through me.
“This unlocks the truth,” he murmured. “Use it wisely.”
The door slammed open.
Nikolai strode in, his face a mask of cold fury. His gaze flicked to our joined hands, then locked onto mine. “Get out.”
Lorenzo didn’t even flinch. “She’s my guest.”
“She’s my wife.”
Their words hung between them like barbed wire. I glanced at Nikolai’s clenched fists, the way his jaw ticked. Then I met Lorenzo’s gaze again. The old man only smiled, tired but knowing.
I left before Nikolai could drag me out himself.
**
The party that night was a show of power. A parade of crime lords, all circling like wolves.
Nikolai and I stood together, hands linked in an illusion of unity. He played his part well, whispering in my ear, fingers tracing the curve of my spine. To the outside world, we were a match forged in iron and blood.
I saw the exact moment Enzo Varga, head of the Varga family, faltered.
His fingers tightened around his glass, expression darkening for a second before smoothing into something neutral.
Interesting.
Then, I heard it. A conversation barely above a whisper.
“…wasn’t us. The Valenti attack... ”
“... inside job, Volkov rats... ”
Ice slid through my veins. My breath caught, but before I could turn toward the voices, Nikolai pulled me onto the dance floor.
His grip was firm, his body an unyielding force against mine. “Smile, wife.”
“Did you hear what they said?” I hissed.
His fingers flexed against my waist. “You think I don’t know?”
I snapped my head up to glare at him. “They're saying a Volkov killed my father. Your wife's father. That can't be good for you. Why aren’t you doing anything about it if it isn't true?”
Nikolai smiled, slow and wicked. “I am.”
For a brief moment, the dance almost felt real. The way our bodies moved, the way our breathing synced. But then, across the room, a woman caught Nikolai’s eye.
And he hesitated.
I felt it in the way his hand tensed against my waist. The brief flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.
I pulled back, voice sharp. “Who is she?”
Nikolai smirked. “Jealous, darling?”
I stepped on his foot. Hard.
He didn’t even flinch, only chuckled under his breath. “Careful, wife. You’re starting to play the part a little too well.”
**
That night, I turned the key in the lock.
A hidden office revealed itself, lined with shelves filled with secrets. My fingers trembled as I sifted through the papers, stopping when I found a thick folder with my father’s name on it.
Valenti Elimination Plan.
Dated three years ago.
Signed by Nikolai Volkov.
My blood ran cold.
So this was the truth Lorenzo wanted me to find.
The man I had just married had been planning my family's downfall for years.
- Writer
