Chapter 4: An Eye for an Eye, and Blood for Blood
1301 Words
Chapter 4: An Eye for an Eye, and Blood for Blood.
.
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The file trembled in my hands, the weight of its contents pressing into my ribs like a f*****g blade. My father’s debts. The slow, calculated dismantling of the Valenti family. Every step planned. Every fall, orchestrated. And at the end of it, Nikolai’s signature.
Except…
The last page didn’t match the others. The ink was different. The writing. The words, colder. And the final note wasn’t an order for exile or disgrace, it was an execution.
Someone else had ordered the hit.
My stomach twisted.
A shadow moved behind me.
“Find what you were looking for?”
Nikolai’s voice was calm, but it sliced through the air like a knife. My fingers curled around the papers as I turned. He stood in the doorway, watching me, his expression unreadable.
I lifted the file. “You planned everything. You trapped my father in debt. You crushed him. And then” I inhaled sharply. “And then someone decided that wasn’t enough.”
Nikolai stepped forward, slow and deliberate. “You knew the man he was. You knew he made enemies.”
“You let me think it was you,” I accused. “You wanted me to believe it.”
His gaze darkened, but he didn’t deny it. “Would it have made a difference?”
The breath left my lungs like a punch. “You... ” I stopped myself, shaking my head. “You wanted to ruin him, but not kill him. Someone else did that.”
Nikolai took another step closer. “What exactly do you want from me, Lyra?”
“The truth.”
Silence stretched between us. Then he moved. Not slow, not deliberate. Just sudde. The file slipped from my grip as his hands caught my wrists, pinning me against the desk.
“You want someone to blame?” His voice was low, rough. “Someone to hate?”
His fingers brushed my jaw, tilting my face up until I had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Hate me. It’s easier that way.”
I should have pushed him away. I should have spit every vile word I could think of in his face. But I didn’t. Because the worst part? He was right. It would be easier to hate him.
One second, we were staring each other down. The next, his mouth crashed against mine. There was nothing gentle about it. It was fire and fury, teeth and tongue, a battle neither of us wanted to lose. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me against him, forcing me to feel every inch of him.
I gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss, stealing my breath, my reason. My fingers tangled in his shirt, nails dragging across his skin as his grip tightened, bruising, claiming.
The edge of the desk dug into my back, but I didn’t care. Not when his lips traced down my neck, not when his teeth grazed and licked my pulse. I arched against him, hating him, wanting him, drowning in the storm of him.
Then, just as suddenly, it was over.
Nikolai pulled back first, his breathing ragged, his jaw clenched. He looked shaken. And that terrified me more than anything.
“This is a mistake,” he murmured.
I forced a bitter laugh. “You think?”
His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he turned away. “Get out.”
I hesitated, expecting another game, another taunt. But he didn’t look at me again.
I left before I could figure out if that fear was for him or for me.
***
I needed to know who had gone against Nikolai’s original plan. If I couldn’t break him, I’d break the people around him.
So, I started watching. Listening.
Nico, my silent shadow, rarely spoke, but he never stopped observing. The house staff avoided direct eye contact, but they whispered when they thought I wasn’t looking. And then there was Aria.
Nikolai’s younger sister was a ghost in her own home. Beautiful, brittle, and smarter than she let on. She watched the family with the same wariness I did.
When I finally approached her, she didn’t look surprised.
“I was wondering how long it would take,” she said, sipping her tea.
I sat across from her, studying her carefully. “You don’t seem afraid of him.”
Aria’s lips twitched. “Nikolai doesn’t hurt the people he loves.”
My stomach tightened. “And does he love you?”
Her smile faded. “Sometimes, I think he doesn’t know how.”
There was something in her voice, something fragile yet knowing.
“You’re scared for him,” I murmured.
Aria hesitated, stirring her tea though she hadn’t added sugar. “I’m scared of what he’ll become.”
I leaned in. “Aria, someone went behind his back. Someone changed the plan. Do you know who?”
She looked away, fingers curling around her cup. “ Look at you playing the detective. I've been here a long time, love. Be careful where you dig. "
A chill ran down my spine
***
The next time Nikolai and I had to play the happy couple was at another family gathering.
The room buzzed with tension, alliances shifting beneath the surface. Nikolai stood beside me, hand resting on the small of my back. To the outside world, we looked like a perfect match. Inside, we were unraveling.
A man I didn’t recognize approached, his smile sharp, his gaze lingering on me a little too long. “Volkov’s wife,” he murmured, lifting my hand as if to kiss it. “Even more stunning in person.”
Nikolai’s grip on me tightened as he opened his mouth to say something but then was pulled away by some guests.
The man smirked watching Nikolai leave “Do you dance, Bella?” he turned back to me.
“I should keep you warm for your husband.”
Before I could answer, he moved closer. Too close. His fingers brushed my arm, a slow, deliberate drag against my skin. My stomach turned. Then his hand was at my waist, squeezing lightly as he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice like oil, “does your husband know how to keep you satisfied?”
My breath hitched. I twisted away, but his grip tightened. His fingers slid lower, pressing into the curve of my hip, as his hands dipped into my skirt. Squeezing my butt.
I opened my mouth... to curse him, to shove him away... but I didn’t get the chance.
A hand clamped down on his wrist. Hard. A sickening crack followed as Nikolai wrenched him back, throwing him off balance. The man stumbled, barely catching himself before Nikolai’s fist crashed into his face.
He went down. Hard.
The room froze.
I stared, heartbeat hammering, as Nikolai flexed his fingers. His expression was eerily calm, but his voice was pure ice. “Touch her again, and I’ll cut off your hands.”
The man groaned, wiping blood from his mouth, but he didn’t challenge him. No one did.
Possessive. Uncontrolled. Dangerous.
I should have been afraid. Instead, something inside me twisted in a way I didn’t understand.
***
That night searching deeper in the room, I found more.
The hidden room was cold, lined with shelves of neatly labeled files. But my attention locked onto one thing... photos. Of me. Of my father. Dated months before his death.
And recordings.
I pressed play, my breath stalling at the familiar voice on the tape.
Lazar.
Nikolai’s right-hand man. His cousin. Talking to my father. Discussing surrender. My father had agreed. The day before he was murdered
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