Chapter 7: A Sinners Game

ALEKSANDER

All my life, I have thrived on control and self-discipline. Power is discipline. It is the knowledge that men twice your age would lower their heads because they know you have their future in the palm of your hand and can easily decide to crush them.

I've built my life on that, self-control, I mean. I have never twitched, never lost it, never snapped.

Until him.

The fireball of a man who barged into my life and made it unbearable to think without envisioning him. I've never wanted to see my knife buried in someone's chest as much as I want it in him.

But that's not the part that bothers me.

It's the fact that I see him everywhere that really gets on my nerves. When I close my eyes, he's there. When I wake up he's there, and the worst part?, I've had more hard-ons than I can count within the past few weeks, and they're all because of him.

Nico is a problem I never asked for but somehow have to deal with. Usually, I would have silenced him by now, got rid of him and moved on, that would have been the logical thing to do. But I can't, because apparently, I have to keep him alive. I'm not sold on the part where he's here for ‘negotiations’, I know there's more to it, but I have to keep him alive. Hopefully not for long.

Could this be the Italians’ plan? Bother me to death? If it is, I must commend them because they picked the perfect person for the job. I can’t count how many times I have come close to losing my resolve.

From that first day in the car, to the dinner table where he ‘accidentally’ brushed his hand on my dick, then the fucking bathroom where he jacked off while I was watching. I wanted to move, my brain was screaming at me to walk away, but I didn't. I stood there, rooted in place with the worst case of blue balls, watching him get off. And I don't know why, I don't regret it, I should hate it, but I don't.

And then there was that night at the Bratva party, when he got close to that girl. I could have left it. Technically, he wasn't ruining anything, but before I could stop myself, I had him pinned, throat in my hand, and I meant it as a warning. That's all it was supposed to be.

But then, I slipped. Me. The sound tore out of my own throat before I could stop it. I had groaned, it was low and raw. It wasn’t him who lost control, it was me.

I've replayed that moment more times than I care to admit. The heat of that moment and the way I felt my discipline fracture. Since then, every step he takes near me grates on my nerves, like a match being struck against stone.

And yet here I am again, dragging him to another gathering where he doesn’t necessarily have to be. Why? It's caution, I don't trust him enough to let him out of my sight. I don’t want him out of my sight. Now the reason for that…..Doesn’t come as easily.

One of the higher-ups in the brotherhood is celebrating his birthday, and I am here to represent my father, the Pakhan, who couldn't make it for whatever fucked up reason.

Nico doesn't see it, but every word he spits, every smirk is another crack in me. And tonight, in this room full of wolves, all it will take is one wrong move from him before I snap again.

And God help me, I don’t know if I’ll groan this time, or if I’ll burn the whole damn world down instead.

The host, Sergei Antonov, leans back, swirling his drink lazily.

“So, Aleksander,” he says, lips curling with curiosity. “ How is your father? The Pakhan still ruling with that iron fist of his?”

I keep my tone even. “He's well.”

That should’ve been it. But Nico tips his chair back on two legs, grinning like a devil.

“Stronger than ever, huh? Guess fear really is the best vitamin. Keeps everyone big and healthy.”

A few men chuckle, but it's not them I'm worried about, it's the ones who don't. In this room, their stares cut deeper than knives.

The captain at the end of the table narrows his eyes. “You think that’s funny, boy?”

Nico takes a slow sip of his drink, deliberately being disrespectful. He shrugs.

“Funny? No. Just… entertaining. You all act like gods, but half of you couldn’t run a corner store without Daddy’s money.”

Shit.

The tension in the room snaps taut, voices drop. Nico stares at me and smirks. He's taunting me, but he doesn't know these men could kill him in a second. Or he does know, but doesn't care anyway.

I should have left him at home, but I didn't, and now every man at this table wants to put a bullet in him.

The captain rises, hand brushing his jacket. If I don't do something now, the f***er might actually die and although that is very tempting, I'd rather be the one to do it. So before the captain can pull out whatever it is that he has in his jacket – definitely a gun– I grab Nico by his nape.

He's tempted me for long enough. I think it's time to teach him a lesson.

His grin widens as we leave the table, laughing under his breath. He probably thinks he's won, and finally made me snap. But that's not it, I'm not going to teach him a lesson on obedience because I am in charge and I call the shots.

I pull him into a private room and slam the door shut. My hand is on his throat before he can say a word. I tighten my grip on his neck, and his face turns pink, but I don't stop. And he doesn't fight or at least pretend to be on the verge of being choked to death.

“What the f**k is wrong with you, do you have a death wish?”

I snarl in his face. I don't know why I ask that because he definitely does have a death wish.

He says nothing, just stares at me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve, which only gets me angrier. I tighten my grip on his neck. He's probably not breathing, but that stupid smirk doesn't leave his face.

And then he moans. The sound came out low, but I heard it. He licks his lips, and right then and there, I feel my carefully crafted resolve shatter. His hand wanders and comes in contact with my already hard d**k. When did it get hard? I don't know

Do I care right now? Not even a little.

“Get on your knees” I growl.

I don't know why I want him on his knees or what I'll do when he does get on his knees. But I want to see him like that, the mere thought of it makes my d**k twitch, something that has never happened before.

He smiles, but doesn't comply. This fu–

“Make me” He says, the defiance in his eyes shining as bright as the sun.

I should stop this, end it here, leave him with a warning. But that stupid part of me, the part that wants to know how it would feel to have the heir to the Vescari throne on his knees wins.

Things will probably not be the same after tonight. But f**k it.