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NIKOLAI

N ikolai sits at his desk, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He stares at the messages from Jerome's friends, his mind racing with thoughts of how to handle them. They think they can disrespect Taraji without consequences.

He stands, a chilling calm washing over him. "They have no idea," he mutters, his voice low and menacing. It's time to remind them what happens when someone crosses the line.

His fingers drum methodically against the polished mahogany as he scrolls through the taunting messages. Each word fuels a dark fire that's been smoldering since the confrontation at the bar. These men, these insignificant, disposable men dare to threaten what belongs to him. What he protects.

Nikolai loosens his tie, breathing deeply to center himself. The penthouse remains quiet save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Taraji is asleep in his bed, curled up with the stuffed rabbit he bought her, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

He walks to the window, gazing out at the city lights glittering below. So many lives, so many stories, and none matter more than keeping her safe. His reflection stares back at him, revealing a coldness in his eyes that Taraji has never seen. He prefers it that way.

"They'll learn," he whispers to his reflection. "They'll all learn."

He makes a call, voice hushed to avoid waking his little one. "I need a meeting. Tonight."

…

Later that night, he meets with his trusted associate in a secluded location. The parking garage echoes with their footsteps as they convene between shadows cast by concrete pillars. The atmosphere is tense as he lays down the law.

"I want them silenced. They've disrespected someone I care about. Make sure they know they've made a mistake."

As he speaks, his eyes darken with intensity, revealing a side of him that he keeps hidden from Taraji. His associate nods, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Consider it done," the associate replies, sensing Nikolai's unyielding resolve.

Nikolai hands over an envelope containing details of names, addresses, routines. He's been collecting this information since the first sign of trouble. Always prepared, always three steps ahead. That's how he built his empire. That's how he keeps it.

"No traces," Nikolai adds, voice devoid of emotion. "I don't want this coming back to her. She can never know."

His associate pockets the envelope with a knowing nod. "Clean and quiet. Your hands stay clean."

"My hands haven't been clean for years," Nikolai replies, a humorless smile crossing his face. "But hers will stay that way."

He checks his watch, it's been forty minutes since he left Taraji sleeping. He needs to return before she notices his absence. Before her innocent world is tainted by the reality of what he does to those who threaten her happiness .

Nikolai returns home, his heart heavy yet exhilarated. He knows he's taking extreme measures, but it's all for Taraji. She deserves to feel safe, free from the shadows of betrayal that haunt her past.

The penthouse is still dark when he enters. He moves silently through the living room, shedding his jacket and loosening his cuffs. In the bedroom, Taraji sleeps peacefully, her face serene in the soft glow of the nightlight she insists on keeping.

He sits on the edge of the bed, watching her breathe. So innocent. So trusting. She has no idea what lengths he'll go to for her. What lines he's willing to cross.

"Daddy?" she murmurs sleepily, eyes fluttering open.

Nikolai's expression transforms instantly, the darkness receding like shadows at dawn. He strokes her hair tenderly. "I'm here, baby girl. Just getting some water."

"Stay with me," she whispers, reaching for his hand.

"Always," he promises, slipping into bed beside her, cradling her against his chest.

As she drifts back to sleep, Nikolai stares at the ceiling, his mind calculating the fallout of tonight's orders. By morning, Jerome's friends will understand the consequences of their disrespect. They'll never threaten his little one again.

For Taraji, he would burn the world down and rule over the ashes. And she would never have to know the cost.