Nikolai: Mine to Protect (Russian Mob Chronicles #4)

“Is everything okay with Roman? He’s been a little quiet tonight.”

I slip into the vacant seat next to Nikolai, my head coming to a rest on his shoulder. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Today has been a wonderful day. Nikolai found out he’s becoming a father early next year, Maddox was released from incarceration, and we celebrated both at a property that will forever hold a special place in my heart.

What Nikolai said is true, my home is anywhere he is, but this is where I was raised. I lost my first tooth here, screamed my first words in anger at my brothers on the very porch Nikolai and I are sitting on.

I even lost my virginity here—although I’d rather Nikolai not become aware of that.

Brax barely left with his life intact earlier today. I don’t see him escaping conviction if Nikolai discovers how close we truly were.

He has no reason to be jealous though. Brax is a great guy. He made me smile when I wanted to cry and treated me like a princess, but there was never anything more than a physical attraction between us. That’s why our flame died within weeks of being ignited. We went our separate ways a few weeks after I left for college. Our friendship was more important than constantly searching for a spark.

Just like this house, Brax has a special place in my heart, but it will never be close to how much space Nikolai has taken. He didn’t just complete me, he makes me a better woman than I was before I was mauled by a dog.

Even Brax couldn’t help but comment on my change today. I’m stronger and more determined than I’ve ever been, and that’s all compliments of Nikolai.

My head pops off Nikolai’s shoulder when he responds, “He’s dealing with some family issues.”

I arch a brow. If Nikolai wasn’t smirking like a cat eyeing a bowl of milk, I’d push the matter with more urgency, but his reply was more playful than worried.

“Lorde?” I predict while recalling how much Nikolai loves using her to rile Roman up.

Nikolai’s smile triples as he nods. “We better not have a daughter, Ahren, because if anyone taunts me about her as I do Roman, I’ll be up on a murder charge before she turns one.”

“Again,” I add on before I can harness my vicious tongue.

Thankfully, Nikolai isn’t the least bit worried about my snappy attitude. “You can’t accuse a man of murder when there’s no body.”

I know for a fact his comment is riddled with errors, but it doesn’t stop my elbow from getting cozy with his ribs. “You won’t need to worry about that if we keep the rules simple. No official dates until she’s thirteen. No serious boyfriends until she is sixteen, and she has to keep her wildness on the down low until she leaves for college.”

Nikolai looks seconds away from coronary failure. “So lock her in a tower on her twelfth birthday? Got it.” He says his comment in jest, but the fire in his eyes shows he isn’t being entirely facetious.

Our alone time is interrupted by Sebastian breaking through the screen door. He’s barely sprinted to the manicured grass edging the front porch when he’s dragged to the ground by Maddox launching himself onto his back. They throw fists at one another, their hits mimicking the noises Nikolai’s men make when they get a little hot under the collar.

“Should I break them apart?” Nikolai sits straighter in his chair when Sebastian and Maddox’s grunts ramp up.

“Nah. The harder they fight, the quicker they’ll fall.”

The need in my voice says more than my words ever could. Today has been an extremely long day, even more so since I’ve spent every hour glancing at the clock, counting down the minutes left before I can thank Nikolai for his generosity in a way not suitable for spectators.

I’m still in a dream-like state, shocked by his big heart. I’ve always known he was a generous, kind man, but today’s gift blew my mind, and it made me fall in love with him even harder.

When Landon attempts to pull Sebastian and Maddox apart, he ends up in the middle of their brawl. His groan of annoyance when he hits the ground with a thud alerts the remaining Walsh clan to a ritual that used to be performed here at least once a month.

It also gains the devotion of Nikolai’s crew. Money is thrown at my feet as they take bets on who will win. With Maddox fresh out of prison, a majority of their wages are placed on him.

I still as commotion stirs in my gut. I never thought I’d utter the words I just did. Maddox’s conviction was overturned, but a pardon can’t reverse the years he spent in prison—away from his family.

Although Maddox has been brutally honest about things that occurred while he was locked up, some questions about events before his arrest remain unanswered. The main two: why he was arrested for Megan’s murder to begin with? And why was he at the Petretti compound the night I was sentenced to run the gauntlet?

I could ask Nikolai to force the truth from Maddox, but I’ve yet to succumb to the pressure. It was a close call when I walked in on him and Maddox having a private conversation before we sat for dinner, but the silent request for understanding in Nikolai’s eyes held back my demand—barely.

Furthermore, Maddox has only just returned home after years of absence. Tonight is not the time to grill him for information. Tomorrow. . . that’s a different kettle of fish.

My focus returns to the present when cheered roars boom through my ears. Being late to the game, Landon has come out of tonight’s exchange victorious. . . although the shiner on his cheek displays it was a close call.

“Some things never change,” I say with a smile.

Nikolai grins. “Are you saying I should have Popov housemaids hide the liquor before their visit next month?”

My eyes snap to his. This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned a Walsh trip to Vegas, but it’s the first time he’s said it so matter-of-factly.

After tucking a wayward red curl behind my ear, he twists his torso until he’s facing me head on. “We should start plans soon. You’re already showing.”

Because his eyes drop to my stomach so quickly, he misses mine widening in shock. What the hell is he talking about?

After a longing glance at my belly, he returns his devotion to my face. The confusion heating my cheeks jumps to his when he spots my stitched brows and quirked lips. He’s truly stumped about why I look so dumbfounded.

With a smirk, he informs me, “Our wedding, Ahren. If you don’t want your belly seen in your dress, we should plan to wed before the end of summer. I don’t mind either way, but I figured the sooner the better.”

I choke on my spit. “Our wedding?”

Nikolai nods without pause, his smirk picking up from my high tone.

The haughtiness on his face subsides when I ask, “What wedding? You have to ask someone to marry you before you can wed them.”

My thighs quake when he growls, “No, I don’t. You are carrying my child in your womb and my heart in your chest; your fate has already been decided, Ahren.”

His entitled sneer has my pulse quickening, but it doesn’t stop me from saying, “Like hell it has.”

My kidnap may have had us jumping the gun with the move-in part of our relationship, but just like our baby, retirement funds, marriage, and additional children will be discussed at great length before any of them will occur. I am Nikolai’s as much as he is mine, but I’m not being told I’m marrying someone. I want to be asked.

My anger loses some of its steam when Nikolai growls, “I was born a bastard, Justine; I will not have my child born the same way.”

“Then you should have thought about that before voicing your wish to have an heir.” My voice isn’t as volatile as his, but it reveals I’m not a pushover either. “If you want to marry me, you’ll have to ask the old-fashioned way.”

When Nikolai attempts to interrupt me, I push my finger to his lips. I bet he wishes I wasn’t so strong and independent now. “Bended knee, permission from my father, and doves flying in the sky—hell, I’ll even take a flash mob if that’s all you can think up—but I want . . .” I stop, realizing my error. “I deserve more than a demand to become your wife.”

My last comment steals Nikolai’s words right from his lungs. For the first time ever, he’s speechless. It’s probably for the best, because the last thing I want to hear is his thoughts when I grumble, “And even after all that, I may not say yes.”

I’m such a liar. If hormones, a lack of sleep, and a shit ton of emotions weren’t fueling my responses, I would have suggested we wed at the little white chapel Blaire and Rico were married in four years ago the instant we touch down in Vegas, but if today has taught me anything, it is that we should never take life for granted.

Maddox’s freedom was snatched away in an instant. Friends he had since childhood forgot about him the moment his police record included the word “murder.” His much sought-after scholarship was given to another. Even the girl he thought he loved vanished from the picture.

My family has sacrificed so many moments of happiness the past five years, I’m not willing to ransom any more. Our child will be a blessing, and so will the marriage of his parents, but not until I am asked the right way.