Alex Pov
When I opened it, I froze. Nikolai stood there, casually leaning against my desk, holding one of my diaries in his hands.
My diary.
My chest tightened, anger and panic flaring simultaneously.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, rushing toward him.
He looked up lazily, the corner of his mouth twitching in that maddening, smug way.
Without a word, he snapped the diary shut and held it up, just out of reach.
“I’ll be keeping this,” he said, his tone calm, detached, and infuriating.
“Like hell, you will!” I lunged forward, one hand gripping the towel at my chest while the other clawed at the air, trying to snatch it back.
“That’s private! You have no right to take my things without asking!”
The diary wasn’t just a notebook; it was a piece of me.
A lif
