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Nikolai’s POV

I was a man who calculated risks the way others calculated math. Every decision weighed, every outcome analyzed, every possibility mapped out before I moved. Control had been my shield for thirty-three years.

But yet I made a mistake.

Adrian was my first foolish mistake.

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the guest house walls. Rain drummed against the windows matching the thundering of my pulse.

Across from me, Adrian sat wrapped in my clothes, his dark hair still damp from the storm. He looked younger somehow, vulnerable in a way that made my chest tighten with emotions I couldn’t afford.

When had I become this man? When had Nikolai Volkov been reduced to someone who risked it all, his nieces happiness for a few stolen moments?

The answer was simple: the moment I’d first kissed him.

Everything since then had been elaborate self-deception. I’d told myself we could manage this. That somehow, despite his marriage and his child and his enti