Nikolai: Mine to Protect (Russian Mob Chronicles #4)
Nikolai: Mine to Protect – Chapter 10

Not willing to put Justine in the line of fire, I demand she travel with me instead of her family. While Roman updates the drivers on our new location, Justine hugs Maddox goodbye as if she’ll lose the opportunity for another five years.

Although Maddox has a lot of questions to answer, his years in hell are over. I’ve never seen Justine’s eyes as intense as they’ve been this morning, so you can be assured I’ll do everything to keep them as lively. The happier my drug is, the stronger my addiction will become.

Justine’s excitement thrums out of her in invisible waves the first ten miles of our trip, but her mouth remains tightlipped. . . until our driver misses the exit for Hopeton.

“That was our exit.” She nudges her head to the A345 slip road our SUV is roaring past before focusing her attention on the driver. “Take the next one, then make a U-turn. We can only get to Hopeton one way.”

My teeth grit as I’m reminded why my endeavor to keep her safe has been so time-consuming. I don’t know what fuckwit thought it was a good idea to only have one entrance and exit point for Hopeton, but it’s been a thorn in my ass the past three days. It’s fortunate there are several airstrips located within the town borders, or Justine’s wish to go home would have never been granted. If I had no backup plan to evacuate her in case of an emergency, our travel plans would have ceased in an instant.

Justine stops glaring at the ignorant driver when I disclose, “We’re not going to Hopeton.”

The veins in her neck flutter as her head cranks back to check if her family’s SUV is still following us. Upon spotting its close tail, her eyes return to me.

“Then where are we going?”

She answers her own question when our driver pulls down a familiar street. Manicured lawns, glistening lead windows, and pricy rides sitting in long driveways lead the way to a secret I’ve been holding the past six weeks.

“Nikolai. . .” Justine chokes on a sob when her glimmering eyes take in her childhood home sitting tall and proud on its oceanside perch. “You didn’t, did you?”

The confirmation in her low tone reveals I don’t need to answer her, but I still dip my chin. “You’ve created a life with me, but my home is anywhere you are, have been, or will be. Although you now reside in Vegas, it hasn’t always been that way. This was your home—your safe haven. No man should have taken that away from you, Ahren. Not even me.”

Tears glide down her cheeks as she presses her lips to mine, their quiver uncontained. “I love your mind, body, and spirit, but even more than that, I love your heart.”

I’m about to tell her I don’t have a heart, but the lowering of her hand to her stomach stops me. “What Asher said is true. Family isn’t blood, Nikolai. It is pride, honor, and mutual respect. Mercifully, our baby will have both your blood and your dignity.”

Years of torment, hurt, and pain is erased in an instant. I am for once complete.

When the tap of a tiny hand rattles the window next to my head, Justine jumps out of her skin. The smile she gave Brax earlier can’t compete with the one she flashes when she discovers who is interrupting us. Her mom is standing at our door, her eyes as wide and as in disbelief as Justine’s. The wisps of red curls around her mother’s ears don’t have a chance in hell of hiding the tears staining her milky white cheeks, but she doesn’t care. She carries her happiness with pride, not ashamed to admit she too is overcome with emotion.

“Is it true?” Justine’s mother, Karan, jangles a set of keys. “Is this really our house—again?” She giggles nervously as if she’s afraid she might wake up.

Although her questions are directed at me, Justine briskly nods. Aware I’m not comfortable with the heavy PDA common in her family, she’s quick to accept her mother’s screams of jubilation on my behalf as well. They jump and squeal in the driveway for several long minutes before they’re joined by the male members of their family.

While they tour the home they know like the back of their hands, Roman and I shadow them. Our faces reflect the jubilation theirs hold, just in a more reserved, uncomfortable way.

“Any news from Trey?” My tone is mellow considering the topic.

Roman twists his torso to the right to ensure business matters don’t steal Justine’s devotion from her family. I understand his quest. I love seeing her like this—happy and without worry.

“He’s as unsure who the Russians could be as you. He put out some feelers, but nothing concrete has been unearthed.”

I nod, grateful for Trey’s diligence but pissed I’m being forced to act on rumors.

“What about Gavril? Did anything come from his outing last night?” My tone dips on the “outing” part of my comment. Gavril doesn’t do teacups and cucumber sandwiches. If he is in town, the entire town is aware of it.

Roman’s shoulder notches up. “Same. You know how much Russian men love to drink. He went to every bar in Hopeton. Not a single accent was heard.”

I’m about to respond with anger, but Justine entering the walk-in pantry on the heel of her mother to check if the height chart scribbled on an internal wall is still there steals my attention as swiftly as it does my anger. Her childhood growth chart better be there. I paid top dollar to have their home returned to how it was the day it was sold. No detail was to be missed, not even the pink bedspread Justine’s bed donned in the family albums I combed through last week to make sure every detail was right.

Smirking at Maddox’s eye roll from being asked to stand next to the wall he was last measured on at the age of thirteen, I shift my focus back to Roman. He has a corny smile on his face. I’m about to rib him until I catch my reflection in the mirror we’re standing next to. I’m wearing the same stupid-ass look.

After grumbling about how Dimitri may be right, I get back to the task at hand. “There has to be something we’re missing.”

Roman murmurs in agreement. He’s not a man of many words—unless he’s telling me I fucked up—but his moan reveals he is as cautious about Dimitri’s warning as me.

“Maddox’s release was too simple. There should have been more to it. Not necessarily from the Petrettis, but from anyone wanting to make an example of what happens when you don’t follow the rules.”

I’m not craving a blood bath; I just know silence never ends well. With the exception of Ryan and Brax’s unwanted presence, Maddox’s release occurred without a single hiccup. If that doesn’t have my men on edge, nothing will.

My eyes lock with Roman’s murky green eyes when he says, “Perhaps Dimitri lied.”

A snarl forms on my top lip. It’s not an angry snarl. I’m more unsure than anything. “For what reason? If he kept out of it, we would have arrived and left Hopeton without incident. Now—”

“Exactly,” Roman interrupts. “Now he has you worried. You’ve run your crew with honor the past twelve months, Nikolai.”

His praise puffs my chest, but I know there’s more coming.

“But you’ve always been a hothead.”

There it is.

I growl, warning him to watch his next set of words. He may be like family to me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tread lightly if he disrespects me.

“You can’t stand, even for a second, the thought of Justine being hurt.”

The honesty of his words rises up in my gut, igniting something inside of me I haven’t felt in years. Just the thought of my ahren being hurt in any way kills me. She’s crying now, but only happy tears. If they weren’t, there’d be hell to pay.

“Think about it, Nikolai. He said you’ll never be family mere seconds before he told Justine he wishes you no harm. His emotions are as contradicting as yours the past few months.”

I backhand his chest, my caution coming with violence this time around. “You shouldn’t be preaching flawlessness, Roman. A dragon has never been killed by a snake, but that doesn’t mean the dragon shouldn’t be wary of the snake’s bite.” Wanting to test a theory, I say my last comment in Russian.

My assumption about Roman being bilingual is proven accurate when he replies, “То, что собака старая, не означает, что ее не научат новым трюкам.” His rickety comment on old dogs being taught new tricks reveals his venture into bilingualism didn’t come easy, but he gets an A for effort.

“Why learn Russian now? It never interested you earlier.” Deceit rings in my tone, but it is more aloof than I expected.

Roman’s lips furl as he jerks his chin to Justine climbing the sprawling stairwell in her family mansion. “She thought it would lessen my ‘disadvantage’ with the men.”

His grimace when snarling “disadvantage” forces a smile onto my lips. Roman could never be accused as being modest, so being told he lacks anything would have been a huge knock to his ego.

“Did it work?”

With a huff, Roman shakes his head. “I just discovered they’re a bunch of dirty fucks who spend more time combing porn sites than they do showering.” He steps away from me to sweep Justine’s bedroom before allowing her to enter. Once it’s clear, he returns to my side. “I’ve also advised Lorde she’s no longer allowed to use the hot tub at Clarks.”

His grin drops an inch as anger makes itself visible on his face. He’s spotted the pompous gleam in my eyes that reveals his daughter’s multiple visits to Clarks were never for the facilities.

His teeth grind together when he spits out, “I swear to god, if I discover you or any of your men have touched my daughter, I’ll skin you all alive.”

I hold my hands in the air, acting innocent.

It’s not an easy look for me to pull off.