Not yours anymore Mr ASHFORD

Chapter 5

"What nonsense are you talking about, Nikolai?" Matteo’s voice rose, frustration lining his words. He was the only one who could talk to Nikolai like that—no fear, no hesitation. No one else would dare challenge the mafia king of West Italy.

Matteo and Nikolai had known each other for years, had built a bond that was stronger than anything else. Matteo was Nikolai’s confidant, the one person he trusted with everything—his darkest secrets, his biggest fears. And when it came to Elena, Matteo had listened to Nikolai's anger over and over. The accusations about Elena being a gold digger, about her not caring about him—Matteo had heard it all. But every time, Matteo just couldn’t buy it.

I’d met Elena a few times, and from what I saw, she didn’t match the picture Nikolai painted of her. She wasn’t the gold digger he insisted she was. But I also knew how much Nikolai hated women, especially the ones that reminded him of his past. I knew it would be hard to convince him otherwise, but I never expected things would go this far.

"She’s a gold digger, Matteo. She only wants my money. I was right all along," Nikolai spat, his voice thick with hatred.

Matteo’s brow furrowed, and his patience snapped. “Are you serious?” His voice rose, disbelief hanging in every word. "She hasn’t even taken her stuff. Look around—her things are still here. How can you accuse her of being something she’s not?"

Matteo gestured toward the cupboards, then pulled open a drawer. Inside were the jewelry pieces Nikolai had bought for Elena—expensive, shiny things worth billions. They weren’t just pieces of jewelry. They were signs of guilt. Of affection. But if Elena were really a gold digger, she would’ve taken all of it with her.

“If she were after your money, why leave this behind?” Matteo’s voice was sharp, biting.

"What else would make her leave?" Nikolai snapped, his anger flaring, not seeing past the hurt he felt.

Matteo ran a frustrated hand through his hair, pacing before grabbing the remote to turn on the TV. The screen flickered to life, and instantly, the viral footage of Nikolai and Cassandra kissing flashed across the screen. But this time, it was different. The media had edited the footage to make it look like Nikolai was the one initiating the kiss.

"No woman can bear infidelity," Matteo muttered under his breath, his heart heavy as the truth began to sink in.

"But..." Nikolai blinked, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I didn’t cheat on her.”

Matteo’s patience, which had always been infinite, snapped. This time, he was genuinely angry. “You’re the only one who knows that. But to her? All she saw was you with another woman, over and over again. You were a Casanova. You had a different woman with you every damn night. What did you think would happen? She would just sit there and take it? Play the dutiful wife while you humiliated her?”

Nikolai’s face drained of color as the realization hit him like a freight train. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed, the weight of his actions crushing him.

“That’s not true...” His voice was a mere whisper, his throat tight with guilt. "She didn’t care. About me, I mean."

Matteo’s expression softened as he walked over to Nikolai. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort, though he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

“Come on, Nikolai,” Matteo sighed, his voice tired, resigned. "You still don’t get it, do you? She left because she loved you. Not because of your money. If that’s all she wanted, she would’ve stayed. She would’ve let you do whatever you wanted. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t stand seeing you with other women. She loved you, damn it."

Nikolai’s breath hitched at Matteo’s words. The weight of them, the truth of them, sliced through him. His mind raced, replaying the past few years—every insult, every betrayal, every time he treated Elena like an object. And now, it was too late.

“What have I done?” Nikolai whispered, his voice hollow with remorse. He could barely breathe, the ache in his chest almost unbearable. He had pushed her away when all she had ever wanted was his love.

Matteo’s gaze softened as he looked down at his friend, his heart breaking for the man he’d known all these years. Nikolai never saw the damage he’d caused. Not until now.

"What's done is done," Matteo said quietly, keeping his hand on Nikolai’s shoulder. "But you need to focus now. You need to find her. Bring her back. I’m worried for her safety. You’ve made a lot of enemies. God forbid someone finds out she’s your wife..."

Nikolai’s jaw clenched as he stood up, his face hardening. For the first time in his life, there was something other than cold indifference in his eyes—fear. Determination. “No. Nothing can happen to her,” he said fiercely. "That’s why I kept her away from those parties. I never let anyone see her. I didn’t want her caught up in all this. I wanted to protect her."

Matteo knew the truth. Nikolai’s love for Elena had always been buried under layers of arrogance, pride, and fear. Fear of being vulnerable.

Just then, the news on TV shifted to breaking news. Another plane had crashed.

"Another plane crash... God knows what’s going on," Matteo murmured, sadness heavy in his tone.

Before Matteo could say anything else, Nikolai’s phone rang. His associate was on the line—one of the people he had sent to search for Elena.

“Boss, we found her. She boarded a flight to New York,” the associate said quickly, providing the flight number.

Nikolai felt the world tilt beneath him as the news settled in. His stomach churned, and his pulse raced. His eyes were glued to the television, where the same flight was now confirmed to have crashed. The news anchors were reporting that there were no survivors.

“No... no!” Nikolai whispered, disbelief flooding him as his heart shattered. “She can’t be dead!”

He didn’t think, he just ran. As though his very life depended on it. Matteo called after him, but Nikolai didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down until he reached the airport, breathless, desperate. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized the extent of his loss.

Reed and Ella stood nearby, their expressions frozen in shock as they watched Nikolai crumble in front of them. No one had ever seen him like this—not when his mother died, not when his father was killed in a gang war. But now, when everyone thought he didn’t care about Elena, her death tore him apart.

Third POV

Elena sat quietly in the bustling airport of Turin, waiting for her flight to New York. It had been a long day, and her mind was still a whirlwind of emotions. She had decided to leave Nikolai behind for good, but she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision. The finality of it all weighed on her.

As she waited near her gate, an elderly couple approached her. Their faces were filled with concern, their expressions urgent.

"Excuse me, dear," the elderly woman said, her voice shaky. "I know this might sound strange, but could you help us? We need to get to New York as quickly as possible. Our great-granddaughter is sick, and we’ve been told she may not survive. But our flight’s routed through Paris, and we need to get there faster. We saw that you’re on a direct flight, and we’re wondering if we could trade tickets with you."

The elderly man nodded eagerly, his eyes pleading. "We’ll pay you any amount you need. We’re just desperate to see our family."

Elena looked at them, her heart softening. She could see how distressed they were, and their urgency was clear. She hesitated for a moment, but something inside her told her it was the right thing to do.

"You... you need to see your great-granddaughter?" Elena asked, her voice quiet. "I can help. I’ll switch my ticket with yours."

The elderly woman’s eyes brightened with relief. "Oh, thank you, thank you so much! You’re an angel."

Elena smiled gently, feeling a wave of compassion wash over her. "Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help."

She stood up and walked with the couple to the ticket counter, where they explained their situation. The attendant listened attentively, typing quickly on the keyboard as she made the necessary changes. After a few moments, the switch was made. The elderly couple now had Elena’s direct flight to New York, and she had their tickets, which included a layover in Paris.

Elena turned back to the couple. "Everything’s taken care of. Safe travels."

The elderly man clasped her hands in his, his voice thick with gratitude. "You don’t know how much this means to us. We’ll never forget your kindness."

Elena felt a lump form in her throat as she watched them walk away, smiling at each other. It was a simple act, but it made her feel like she had done something good in the world.

She returned to her seat, lost in thought. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, but she had done her part. Elena’s heart still ached as she thought about leaving Nikolai, but in that moment, she pushed it aside. She needed to focus on moving forward.

Meanwhile, Nikolai’s people were tracking her every move. They had learned about her flight to New York and were keeping an eye on her. They knew her boarding information and assumed she would be on the direct flight, just like the rest of the passengers.

What they didn’t know, however, was that Elena had made the decision to trade tickets with the elderly couple. In their haste to follow her, they didn’t double-check the details of the flight. They were certain Elena was heading straight to New York, completely unaware that she had taken a different route with a layover in Paris.