CLAUDEFuck.That was the first thing that ripped through my head as I came to, groaning like I’d been hit by a freight train. My eyes blinked open, unfocused, until I caught sight of him—Nikolai.His lap was my goddamn pillow, his hands steady on my shoulders. And those eyes—sharp and steady—locked on mine before his lips twitched into that lazy, lopsided smile of his.“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he murmured, like I’d just woken up from a nap instead of—I groaned, trying to shift, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs didn’t belong to me. “Where are we?” My words came out rough, my throat raw.When I tried to sit up, Nikolai’s hands pressed me back down. “Don’t,” he said, his tone low. “You got shot, Claude. Pretty fucking badly, I might add.”I looked down. My chest was bare, bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, blood seeping through faintly. Not silver, though. I’d heal. A couple of days, tops.“And,” Nikolai continued, like he was delivering a punchline, a chuc
NIKOLAII WANTED TO put a bullet through her skull. The thought burned bright, searing through every rational part of me.But it was Claude’s unsteady steps that dragged my attention. He limped back towards me, his movements sluggish, and I was on my feet before I could think twice.“Christ,” I muttered, catching him as he stumbled. I pulled him flush against me, feeling the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body sagged.Guiding him to the wall, I eased him down until he was sitting. His skin was pale, his breathing uneven.“You’re pushing too hard, Claude.” My voice came out low, softer than I intended, and I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You need to rest.”He didn’t argue, his head leaning back against the wall, his expression tight with pain. My eyes dropped to his stomach, fabric of the bandage darkened with dried blood, and let out a low breath of relief. Thank Christ they weren’t bleeding anymore.“That girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “she was with Antonio, wasn’t
CLAUDEI COULDN’T SETTLE.Not since I woke up to find the bed empty. Not since Nikolai had been ripped away from me. The pain in my leg was the least of my worries now, because the world felt wrong without him. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought about the worst.What if he was gone?The thought tightened my throat, my pulse spiking with panic.What if I never saw him again?I couldn’t breathe at the thought.Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps, heavy and uneven. My senses were flooded with blood before I saw him. The metallic tang hit my nose like a punch, and there he was—Nikolai, shoved inside, collapsing before I could think. I lunged, catching him just before his body hit the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, the loud noise ringing in my ears.“Nikolai,” I whispered, guiding him to the wall, my arm hooked under his, my palm pressing against the heat of his ribs.He groaned, sinking down until he was seated, head lolling back agai
NIKOLAI"HOW MANY FUCKING times do I have to tell you—I didn’t take your shit. This is pathetic,” I bit out, wincing as pain flared through my side. Another punch landed, sharp and painful, but I barely flinched.My glare snapped to the brute in front of me, my mind already calculating. Ways to slice him open. Methods to break him apart. He’d regret every goddamn hit the moment I got free—or when my people found me, whichever came first.The bastard sighed, dragging a hand over his shaved head like he was the one dealing with a headache. He started pacing again, heavy boots echoing off the grimy walls, and I stared at him from under my lashes, biting back the urge to spit in his face.“It isn’t about the crystals, is it?” I laughed low, shaking my head. “There’s something else.”The truth was simple: if someone had stolen from me—even a pen—I wouldn’t waste my time. They’d be dead before they could even apologize. No explanations, no second chances. A bullet, point-blank. End of story
CLAUDE SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I’d felt it the moment he was shoved back into the cell. The way he looked at me—sharp, cutting, like I was a problem he didn’t want to solve. And that kiss... It wasn’t affection. It was a punishment, cold and bruising, before he pushed me away as though the taste of me was bitter.How long had it been since he’d spoken to me? Minutes? Hours? Each minute dragged as he refused to answer my calls, refused to acknowledge me with anything other than that deadly glare.My lips had healed, but I still felt the phantom sting of that kiss. Still felt the ache like an open wound every time I dared glance at him. His rage wasn’t subtle—it rolled off him like waves.I watched him now, my eyes tracing every line of his tense frame. But Nikolai didn’t move. His gaze stayed fixed on the door, pointedly avoiding me even though I knew he could feel my stare.The sound of the door slamming open ripped my focus away. My head snapped toward it and I was surprised. They didn
CLAUDEMy fingers wrapped around the lock, the silver biting into my skin the second I touched it. I slammed it to the side with everything I had, ignoring the burn that tore through my hands.The lock broke with a snap, and I stumbled back, panting hard, my chest heaving as pain radiated up my arms. My palms throbbed, raw from the contact, but I didn’t care.I shoved the door open, the hinges groaning under the weight, and Nikolai was already on his feet. His brows pulled together, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked at me, like he couldn’t decide what had just happened.“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice low and rough, and I couldn’t miss the way his whole body tensed, like he was bracing for a fight.I couldn’t help it. A grin broke across my face. “We’re free,” I rasped, the words leaving me on a shaky exhale. My heart was slamming so hard it felt like it was trying to break free too. His eyes snapped to mine, and for the briefest second, they softened. But it was
CLAUDEMY HEAD THROBBED like it had been cracked open, the kind of ache that made it hard to think straight. Every nerve in my body was screaming, and the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere close only made it worse, each echo hitting like a hammer. My back ached where something cold and sharp pressed into it, scraping against bone, and no matter how I shifted, I couldn't find relief.And my wrists—fuck. The sting of metal biting into my skin was enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. They felt heavy, like I’d been drugged. Voices buzzed around me, tangled and overlapping, but I couldn’t make out the words.“Ya slyshal, on byl s bossom na tom korable. Dumayesh, on gey?” “Zatkní svoy gryóbanyy rot. On prosypáetsya.”Then one sentence broke through, clear despite the heavy accent.“Go tell boss that he’s awake.”Boss.My pulse jumped. Even through the haze, I knew exactly who that meant.I forced my eyes open, but darkness greeted m
CLAUDEI didn’t know how long I sat there, my hands throbbing from pain, every muscle pulling too tight. The room felt like it was impossibly small, the silence felt like it was enough to crush me. I stared at the door, willing it to open—willing Nikolai to come back. Just give me a chance to explain. Let me speak. Let me fix this. But when the door finally creaked open hours later, it wasn’t Nikolai.It was them.Men dressed in black stepped inside, their presence making my throat tight. Guns sat heavy at their hips, as casual as the smirks they wore.“I don’t understand why the boss gives a prisoner a good room,” one sneered, his accent thick as he crossed his arms and looked me over like I was something beneath his boot. “I don’t even get a good room, and this American gets one?”A short laugh came from another as he stepped closer, crouching in front of me and began to undo the chains. “Maybe his hole is that good.” His grin like it was some kind of hidden joke.My stomach churne
CLAUDEI didn’t know how long I sat there, my hands throbbing from pain, every muscle pulling too tight. The room felt like it was impossibly small, the silence felt like it was enough to crush me. I stared at the door, willing it to open—willing Nikolai to come back. Just give me a chance to explain. Let me speak. Let me fix this. But when the door finally creaked open hours later, it wasn’t Nikolai.It was them.Men dressed in black stepped inside, their presence making my throat tight. Guns sat heavy at their hips, as casual as the smirks they wore.“I don’t understand why the boss gives a prisoner a good room,” one sneered, his accent thick as he crossed his arms and looked me over like I was something beneath his boot. “I don’t even get a good room, and this American gets one?”A short laugh came from another as he stepped closer, crouching in front of me and began to undo the chains. “Maybe his hole is that good.” His grin like it was some kind of hidden joke.My stomach churne
CLAUDEMY HEAD THROBBED like it had been cracked open, the kind of ache that made it hard to think straight. Every nerve in my body was screaming, and the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere close only made it worse, each echo hitting like a hammer. My back ached where something cold and sharp pressed into it, scraping against bone, and no matter how I shifted, I couldn't find relief.And my wrists—fuck. The sting of metal biting into my skin was enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. They felt heavy, like I’d been drugged. Voices buzzed around me, tangled and overlapping, but I couldn’t make out the words.“Ya slyshal, on byl s bossom na tom korable. Dumayesh, on gey?” “Zatkní svoy gryóbanyy rot. On prosypáetsya.”Then one sentence broke through, clear despite the heavy accent.“Go tell boss that he’s awake.”Boss.My pulse jumped. Even through the haze, I knew exactly who that meant.I forced my eyes open, but darkness greeted m
CLAUDEMy fingers wrapped around the lock, the silver biting into my skin the second I touched it. I slammed it to the side with everything I had, ignoring the burn that tore through my hands.The lock broke with a snap, and I stumbled back, panting hard, my chest heaving as pain radiated up my arms. My palms throbbed, raw from the contact, but I didn’t care.I shoved the door open, the hinges groaning under the weight, and Nikolai was already on his feet. His brows pulled together, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked at me, like he couldn’t decide what had just happened.“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice low and rough, and I couldn’t miss the way his whole body tensed, like he was bracing for a fight.I couldn’t help it. A grin broke across my face. “We’re free,” I rasped, the words leaving me on a shaky exhale. My heart was slamming so hard it felt like it was trying to break free too. His eyes snapped to mine, and for the briefest second, they softened. But it was
CLAUDE SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I’d felt it the moment he was shoved back into the cell. The way he looked at me—sharp, cutting, like I was a problem he didn’t want to solve. And that kiss... It wasn’t affection. It was a punishment, cold and bruising, before he pushed me away as though the taste of me was bitter.How long had it been since he’d spoken to me? Minutes? Hours? Each minute dragged as he refused to answer my calls, refused to acknowledge me with anything other than that deadly glare.My lips had healed, but I still felt the phantom sting of that kiss. Still felt the ache like an open wound every time I dared glance at him. His rage wasn’t subtle—it rolled off him like waves.I watched him now, my eyes tracing every line of his tense frame. But Nikolai didn’t move. His gaze stayed fixed on the door, pointedly avoiding me even though I knew he could feel my stare.The sound of the door slamming open ripped my focus away. My head snapped toward it and I was surprised. They didn
NIKOLAI"HOW MANY FUCKING times do I have to tell you—I didn’t take your shit. This is pathetic,” I bit out, wincing as pain flared through my side. Another punch landed, sharp and painful, but I barely flinched.My glare snapped to the brute in front of me, my mind already calculating. Ways to slice him open. Methods to break him apart. He’d regret every goddamn hit the moment I got free—or when my people found me, whichever came first.The bastard sighed, dragging a hand over his shaved head like he was the one dealing with a headache. He started pacing again, heavy boots echoing off the grimy walls, and I stared at him from under my lashes, biting back the urge to spit in his face.“It isn’t about the crystals, is it?” I laughed low, shaking my head. “There’s something else.”The truth was simple: if someone had stolen from me—even a pen—I wouldn’t waste my time. They’d be dead before they could even apologize. No explanations, no second chances. A bullet, point-blank. End of story
CLAUDEI COULDN’T SETTLE.Not since I woke up to find the bed empty. Not since Nikolai had been ripped away from me. The pain in my leg was the least of my worries now, because the world felt wrong without him. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought about the worst.What if he was gone?The thought tightened my throat, my pulse spiking with panic.What if I never saw him again?I couldn’t breathe at the thought.Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps, heavy and uneven. My senses were flooded with blood before I saw him. The metallic tang hit my nose like a punch, and there he was—Nikolai, shoved inside, collapsing before I could think. I lunged, catching him just before his body hit the ground. The door slammed shut behind him, the loud noise ringing in my ears.“Nikolai,” I whispered, guiding him to the wall, my arm hooked under his, my palm pressing against the heat of his ribs.He groaned, sinking down until he was seated, head lolling back agai
NIKOLAII WANTED TO put a bullet through her skull. The thought burned bright, searing through every rational part of me.But it was Claude’s unsteady steps that dragged my attention. He limped back towards me, his movements sluggish, and I was on my feet before I could think twice.“Christ,” I muttered, catching him as he stumbled. I pulled him flush against me, feeling the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body sagged.Guiding him to the wall, I eased him down until he was sitting. His skin was pale, his breathing uneven.“You’re pushing too hard, Claude.” My voice came out low, softer than I intended, and I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You need to rest.”He didn’t argue, his head leaning back against the wall, his expression tight with pain. My eyes dropped to his stomach, fabric of the bandage darkened with dried blood, and let out a low breath of relief. Thank Christ they weren’t bleeding anymore.“That girl,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “she was with Antonio, wasn’t
CLAUDEFuck.That was the first thing that ripped through my head as I came to, groaning like I’d been hit by a freight train. My eyes blinked open, unfocused, until I caught sight of him—Nikolai.His lap was my goddamn pillow, his hands steady on my shoulders. And those eyes—sharp and steady—locked on mine before his lips twitched into that lazy, lopsided smile of his.“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he murmured, like I’d just woken up from a nap instead of—I groaned, trying to shift, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs didn’t belong to me. “Where are we?” My words came out rough, my throat raw.When I tried to sit up, Nikolai’s hands pressed me back down. “Don’t,” he said, his tone low. “You got shot, Claude. Pretty fucking badly, I might add.”I looked down. My chest was bare, bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, blood seeping through faintly. Not silver, though. I’d heal. A couple of days, tops.“And,” Nikolai continued, like he was delivering a punchline, a chuc
NIKOLAIIt didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d been kidnapped. This wasn’t some random terrorist attack. No, this was planned, deliberate. My head throbbed, a sharp ache that pulsed behind my eyes as I forced myself upright. The room was dark, the only light coming from the weak flicker of a bulb above. It wasn’t enough to see much, but it was enough to hear—to feel. Someone was here with me.The groan came low and ragged, dragging my attention to the far side of the room. My chest tightened. Claude had been with me during the shootout, shielding me when he shouldn’t have. But that didn’t mean the figure slumped in the shadows was him.“Claude?” My voice was rough, edged with suspicion.The unmistakable groan of pain answered that question, and I scrambled toward the voice. My hands found him—his body slack against the floor—and I turned him onto his back. “Fuck, Claude.” The words fell from my lips as my gaze dropped to the stain spreading across his shirtI crawled toward him, my