NiKOLAI HE WAS FINALLY HERE. Pressing against the wall, I watched Jonny Hernandez stride down the hall, flanked by two thick-necked goons. The prick had the audacity to steal from me, and now he was holed up on this swanky, heavily-guarded yacht, probably thinking he was untouchable. I usually had my men handle these sorts of personal errands, but this time... hell, I wanted to look him in the eyes myself before I made him pay. I peeked around the corner. The two guards had parked themselves outside a door, just under one lazy surveillance camera hanging in the corner. Perfect. I let my fingers tap against the wall, a small sound, just enough to get their attention. Predictably, both heads swiveled in my direction. Like clockwork. "Evening, gentlemen," I said, sliding my hands into my pockets as they stepped toward me. "Is Jonny allowing visitors?" The bigger of the two grunted, "No visitors." I shrugged, my lips curling
CLAUDE I DIDN’T HAVE the damn key to our room, which was why I’d been standing here for Gods knew how long, feeling more pissed off with every second. “You’re alone,” a voice cut through my thoughts. “I’m surprised.” I whipped my head toward the sound. Amelia was standing there, in a short, pleated skirt, black bra barely covering anything, a gold leash around her neck. She held the end of it in her hand and started walking toward me like she owned the damn place. “Amelia,” I muttered, shifting my weight to the other foot, my body tense as she got closer. “You didn’t look so thrilled to be here the first night,” she said, a sly smirk curving her lips. I chuckled. No shit. I’d been questioning my decisions—whether I was making a mistake, whether this was what I really wanted. But I had made up my mind now. “Yeah, well…” I shrugged. Her eyes flicked to the door I was leaning against, and I could feel her getting closer, measuring me u
CLAUDEEvery part of me was on fire. I was trapped between a wall and a hard place—literally—because Nikolai’s frim body pressed tightly against mine, his hips grinding into me like he had something to prove. And goddammit, it felt so fucking good. A moan slipped past my lips, swallowed by the press of his mouth against mine. His kiss was raw and hard, his tongue demanding entry I couldn’t deny. My hands clutched at his biceps, the hard muscles flexing beneath my fingers as I fought to keep my balance.“Fuck,” Nikolai growled, pulling back just enough for his dark, burning gaze to meet mine. His breath came in heavy pants, his lips brushing against my skin as he whispered, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My voice had been stolen by the heat pooling low in my stomach, by the way his teeth grazed my neck, biting and teasing like he couldn’t get enough of me. The sharp sting made me gasp, and the sound only seemed to fuel him further. “Shit—Ni
NIKOLIAI don’t know why I cared. Claude wasn’t my responsibility. He wasn’t anything to me. But when he flinched yesterday—when I saw that flicker of fear in his eyes—I wanted to rip apart whoever put it there. I’d never felt this way before. Never. The partners in my life had always been transactional. I gave them what they wanted, took what I needed, and left it at that. No questions. No complications. No strings. Yet here I was, lying in bed, the early morning light bleeding through the curtains, thinking about him. His breathing filled the room—slow, steady, but not the kind of calm you’d expect from someone still asleep. “I know you’re awake, Claude.” My voice cut through the silence, and I heard the subtle shift of sheets as he tensed. I turned my head toward him, though the space between us still felt like miles. He didn’t answer. Just drew in a sharp breath. “You have an accent,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter than usual. “I noticed it yesterday whe
CLAUDE I COULDN’T FIND it. My hands tore through the piles of clothes scattered on the floor, my pulse a pounding rhythm in my ears. My breath hitched, shallow and ragged. Think, Claude. Think. I knew I’d brought the damn pills on board. I wouldn’t forget something that important. Then it hit me. The guards. I’d handed my bag to the security guards. A cold wave of dread washed over me. What if they’d taken them? My body trembled as I pressed a thumb hard into my eye. Fuck. This is bad. Really bad.I glanced toward the bathroom door, steam curling beneath it, the shower still running. Nikolia had no idea what was happening on the other side of that door, and I needed to keep it that way. Without thinking twice, I grabbed my jacket and stormed out, the salty sea air slapping me in the face as I stepped onto the ship’s terrace. The place was almost deserted—just the endless horizon of water and sky. But I wasn’t alone. I caught it then. Fain
CLAUDE“NEW HERE?” The guy slid into the seat across from me like we’d been friends for years. His dark curls framed a mischievous grin, green eyes flashing with curiosity. He wasn’t collared, but the confidence in his posture gave him away—another pet. “What gave me away?” I muttered, leaning back, trying not to care. “The tension. It’s written all over you,” he said, smirking. “I’m Jace. Figured you could use a familiar face.” “Tate,” I replied, using the fake name and not offering more. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “This your first run?” I hesitated, glancing around and waiting for Nikolai who went to take something from our room. “Yeah.” Jace nodded, glancing around. “Not all bad. Two weeks, big payout, then freedom. But you don’t look like someone who needs it. So…what are you doing here?” His question hung in the air. I wasn’t here for money, no I came here because I thought Viktor was alive—even though I had seen him die— but now, now I was staying
NIKOLIAI WAS PISSED. No, beyond pissed.I’d woken up to an empty bed, the sheets still warm where Claude had been lying. I told myself to let it go. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe I was smothering him. But after ten minutes of staring at the door, all I could think about was how much I wanted him back in my bed—where I could touch him, where he belonged.So, I went looking. And I found him.With Jonny fucking Hernandez’s.“What do you want from him?” Claude’s voice was tight, his stance tense. The wind tugged at his hair, the glow of the ship’s lights casting shadows across his face.I stalked toward him, fists clenched, grinding my teeth so hard it hurt. His eyes widened as he backed up until the cool metal bars stopped him. Good. He wasn’t going anywhere.“I should be asking you that,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “What the fuck are you doing with him?”I was in his space now, caging him in, my hands gripping the bars on either side of his hips. “Are you working with h
CLAUDE I SHOULD’VE KNOWN better. Maybe I did. Maybe I just didn’t want to admit it. But thinking Nikolai wasn’t dangerous? Yeah, that was stupid. His words last night sent shivers down my spine—less like a warning, more like a threat. Still, I wasn’t a threat to him. Hell, I wasn’t a threat to anyone here. I didn’t belong here. And that wasn’t even my biggest problem. I was changing. The pills. If I’d had them, none of this would be happening. My body wouldn’t be rebelling, shedding the beta facade I’d spent so many years maintaining. But without them, I could feel my omega surfacing, clawing its way back to the forefront. And with that came the inevitable: heat. It was coming for me, and when it hit, there’d be no stopping it. Nikolai stood behind me, his presence commanding without even trying. His hands rested on my shoulders, firm with a light squeeze and his thumbs brushing over my collarbone. His gaze pierced through the mirror in front of us, pinning me in place."You
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