Chapter Eighteen
Nina’s POV
The morning started quietly.
Too quietly, I would realize later. Like the world was holding its breath before screaming.
I sat at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of coffee Nana had pressed into my hands. She hummed softly while chopping vegetables for lunch, the knife making rhythmic thunks against the cutting board. Sunlight streamed through the windows, turning everything warm and golden.
Normal. Almost peaceful.
Nikolai stood at the stove, shirtless in gray sweatpants, flipping pancakes like he didn’t have a care in the world. His back was a canvas of scars and tattoos, muscles shifting under skin with each movement.
I’d been watching him more than I should. Remembering what Enzo had said last night. Remembering how they’d sent Isabela away the secon
