A Dangerous Distraction
686 Words
Nico had not slept. Fire still haunted Nico’s dreams.
Not the flames themselves, but the helplessness that came with them the heat closing in, the smell of smoke, the sense of something precious being ripped away while he stood frozen and powerless. Faces blurred in his memory, voices swallowed by chaos, the past refusing to give him details even when he demanded them. He only knew the truth of it: his parents had died because someone else had decided they were expendable. Because mercy had not existed that night. Nico woke with his jaw clenched and his heart steady but cold, the lesson as sharp as it had always been.
The shower steamed around him, water beating against his shoulders as if it could scald the thoughts from his head. It didn’t work. Nothing did.
Ann.
The way she blushed when he returned. The way her eyes dropped too quickly. The way her body stilled whenever he was close, as if she were bracing for impact.
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening.
This was not right.
He was not a man ruled by impulse. Desire was a weakness he had disciplined out of himself years ago. And yet, standing there with his hands braced against the tile, he found his mind betraying him—images he had no right to entertain pressing forward.
Her wrist in his hand.
Her breath hitching.
The softness she tried so hard to hide.
Nico turned the water colder, forcing a sharp breath from his lungs.
No.
He would not cross that line. Not with her. Not ever.
What he needed was distraction. Something physical. Mindless. Clean.
A good f**k usually solved problems like this.
By the time he arrived at Blackwood International, his expression was back in place—cold, controlled, untouchable. The boardroom fell silent the moment he entered.
The meeting was brisk. Numbers. Expansion. Power.
Then the tone shifted.
“There’s movement,” one of his men said carefully. “Another outfit has been testing our borders. Quietly.”
Nico’s eyes hardened. “Names.”
“Not yet. But it’s deliberate.”
“Then it’s a threat,” Nico replied flatly. “Plant eyes everywhere. I want spies embedded by the end of the week. No mistakes.”
“Yes, boss.”
Danger, at least, made sense.
Later, Viktor joined him in his office, leaning casually against the desk as if Nico hadn’t just ordered half a city watched.
“She’s been busy,” Viktor said lightly.
Nico didn’t look up. “Who.”
“Your wife.”
That got his attention.
Viktor smirked. “Relax. Walking the gardens. Reading. Talking to Nia. I saw it on the feeds.”
Nico’s jaw tightened. “You monitor the cameras too closely.”
“Funny,” Viktor said. “I was going to say the same about you.”
Nico shot him a warning look.
Viktor chuckled. “You know, for a man who insists he’s unaffected, you track her movements like a threat.”
“She’s my responsibility.”
“Mmm.” Viktor tilted his head. “Or are you falling for her?”
The word landed like a slap.
Nico stood abruptly. “Watch your mouth.”
Viktor’s tone softened, just slightly. “I’m just saying—she’s in your head. That’s new.”
Nico didn’t respond. He grabbed his jacket instead.
That night, he went to one of his private clubs. The lighting was low, the music heavy, the atmosphere thick with expectation. A woman found him easily—beautiful, willing, familiar.
She kissed him. Pressed close. Tried to pull a reaction from him.
Nothing.
His mind betrayed him again—soft blue eyes instead of bold ones, quiet warmth instead of practiced heat.
He stepped back.
“This isn’t going to work,” he said curtly.
The woman tried again then walked away.
Nico left soon after, anger simmering just beneath his skin.
Ann had done this. Without touching him. Without trying.
And that, more than anything else, unsettled him.
Because the one thing Nico Blackwood had never been able to afford—
Was losing control.
- Writer
