Page 57 of Nikola

I smiled harshly. “Speaking from experience, Kostya?”

The subtle jab had Kostya losing his shit. In the next breath, he lunged at me, his hands closing around my throat.

I grabbed his hand, fingers digging into his knuckles, and peeled them off one by one. His eyes widened, but before he could react, I drove my shoulder into his chest with enough force to send him crashing into the wall. The impact made the entire frame shudder, and a loud, startled gasp rippled through the remaining customers, some of them inching backward, eyes wide with fear.

Kostya coughed, pushing off the wall, a smirk still plastered on his face despite the force of the blow. “That all you got?” he sneered, straightening his collar. “No wonder Skye doesn’t look twice at you.”

I stepped closer, heat still simmering in my veins. “Say her name one more time,” I growled, jaw clenched.

He scoffed, wiping a spot of blood from his lip. “At least I’m not scaring her off with my temper. You think she wants a brute?”

“I bet you hate knowing you’re not the one for her.” The tension crackled between us, raw and electric, as the room seemed to shrink around the fury that pulsed between us.

“Fuck you, Nikola,” Kostya growled.

I grinned and headbutted him. “You’re dead, Kostya!”

19

SKYE

Istared at my reflection in the bathroom, my heart heavy with disappointment. Dessert would be hitting the table soon and Nikolastillhadn’t shown up.

No matter, I thought to myself.

I’d spent an hour listening to Kostya’s tales about his recent hiking adventure. I didn’t even know he liked hiking, but apparently hiking the Appalachian and Crest Trails was his passion. It was fun listening to his stories, and even made me forget about Nikola for a little while.

Maybe I should give hiking a try,I thought to myself as I dried my hands, but even as the thought materialized, I knew that I wouldn’t. Sweating and climbing weren’t my thing.

The moment I stepped out of the bathroom, I noticed a commotion in the restaurant. I rushed through the hallway and toward the table when I froze.

What I saw hit me like a lightning strike—sharp, unexpected, and paralyzing. My heart clenched and a cold wave of shock crashed over me, leaving my thoughts tangled and disjointed. Two men I cared about were locked in a violent, desperate struggle.

Their bodies collided with brutal force, the fists meeting flesh the only thing I saw. My breath caught in my throat as I watched them grapple, each move more ferocious than the last. It was surreal, like a nightmare unfolding in slow motion.

Nikola had Kostya shoved against the wall, his forearm pushed against his cousin’s throat, while Kostya’s knife pressed against Nikola’s ribs.

Their gazes cut to me; Kostya’s calculating and cold, Nikola’s heated with blue infernos as they slid over my strapless dress that barely reached my mid-thighs.

In the next breath, Nikola’s expression turned into one of pure rage as he shoved his shoulder against Kostya, then threw him on the floor. Tables and chairs clattered to the floor and people scattered, but I spotted a few recording the scene like it was an entertainment show.

I rushed forward and gripped Nikola's arm, yanking him back. But it was fruitless, Nikola was a six-foot-five wall of pure muscle.

Nikola pulled his own knife from his holster and pressed it against Kostya’s throat.

They spat words at each other, the tension palpable. I couldn’t read their lips or process the meaning of this with the amount of panic rushing through my bloodstream.

Kostya shoved his elbow into Nikola’s side with his other hand, keeping his knife pressed against his ribs all the while. Their expressions were terrifying, those signature pale blue eyes staring at each other with cold fury.

A sound tore from my throat, unpracticed and foreign. “Nikola!”

They both froze, and so did I. Then, as if in slow motion, their profiles turned to face me. My hands wrapped around my throat, the shock vibrating through me. I never let anyone hear my voice aside from my parents. I’d always been far too self-conscious.Deaf people struggled to pronounce words smoothly due to the auditory feedback. That meant our voices were usually distorted, words hard to understand, and the pitch, volume, and intonation presented differently to hearing people.

Nikola shot to his feet, releasing Kostya, and was by my side in the next breath.

My heart raced in my chest, terror still clogging my throat as I stared wide-eyed at him. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Kostya was on his feet too, pressing his palm to his throat where Nikola must have cut him.

Swallowing hard, I signed, “You okay, Kostya?”