You're beautiful

[NIKOLAI'S POV]

"So, what is it that you do?" I asked.

Nikolai and I were seated at the backseat of his G-wagon. Vladimir and Kwame drove behind us in another G-Wagon.

"Are you interested in me?" His lips curved with amusement.

I glared at him out of the corner of my eyes, my gaze settling on the faint blade scar that marred his upper lips.

"I have an idea you're in charge of a gang," I said.

"I run one of the biggest criminal syndicates in the world," he was scrolling through his iPad on his lap. "I am the head of The Romanov Clan."

I wasn't accustomed to these things but I was curious to learn, hoping to find information I could use against this man.

"Tell me more," I demanded.

He didn't even hesitate. Now this was what I've learnt so far.

There are three formidable Mafia syndicates in the criminal world. Each syndicates upholds immense influence on a global scale.

One hails from Russia, the other from Italy and the third from the United States.

These were the big three Mafia syndicates but none stood out the most amongst the rest than the Romanov Clan from the Russia syndicate.

The Romanov Clan operated under a hierarchy chains with Nikolai serving as its head.

Once upon a time, the Romanov Clan reigned supreme but not anymore.

They've since waned before Nikolai took control of its operations as it's new Don from the previous Don.

The only thing sustaining their existence was their fear-inducing reputation which Nikolai had nurtured in his reign as Mafia don.

He was the youngest as well as the most cruel and vicious.

His cold-blooded killing exploits had earned him a dreadful reputation that strikes terror into the hearts of men whenever his name was mentioned.

"That was how I earned the nickname, THE GRIM REAPER," he concluded.

"Is killing the only thing you're good at?" I asked, wondering how many lives he has stolen.

He ran his hands through his hair. "I was born and raised to be a killer. The Romanov Clan are renowned assassins. It's one of our many businesses."

My face went pale and a sick feeling gnawed at the pits of my stomach. "Just how many people have you killed, Nikolai? A hundred? A thousand?"

He looked at me searchingly. "The numbers are unending. I guess I've lost count."

I remembered the knife I snuck with me from breakfast. He was within my reach now. All I had to do was strike and this monster would fall to his death.

I'd be doing a big favour to all the lives he's taken.

Nikolai put away the iPad and stared at his wrist watch.

I studied his profile, his chiseled jawline, his smooth shaven pointy chin, the hardness of his crimson red eyes and that silver White hair.

I won't lie to myself. He's beautiful. He's hot. He's perfect. He's got looks.

But deadly and dangerous. He was posion. He was death himself.

He was like a snake. Gentle and smooth but deadly.

Five years ago, when I first met him, he had dark hair. My bet, he must've dyed it.

I asked him the pressing questions that's been haunting me since that bloody night. "Why did you murder my family?"

He looked up from his watch at me. "You really want to know?"

"Yes," I stifled a cough. "Not that it'd justify what you did. But I must know before I enact my revenge on you."

His lips twitched but only slightly. "Your family, The Flamecrest family are one of the world's most influential people. Politically, they pose a threat to the world."

"Bullshit," I snapped, my face growing red. "My family are peaceful loving people. We take care of our domain and don't interfere with politics."

"You were sixteen," his eyes narrowed. "What would you know? There are many secrets your family upholds that you know nothing of."

My heartbeat spiked. "What secrets?"

Silence. He didn't answer.

"You bastard, spit it out. What secrets."

"Doesn't matter," he took out his cigarette case. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you."

"That still doesn't answers why you murdered them."

"I was assigned to," he adjusted his glasses. "Wipe out the Flamecrest family. That was my assignment. The Romanov Clan are hired killers. We don't ask questions. We get the job done."

"But you spared my life," my voice softened. "Why?"

He lit up his cigarette and blew smoke. He glanced heavenwards as if he was pondering the question to himself.

"Why? I've always wonder that to myself as well."

I was gradually putting together the little information I've gathered, one piece at a time.

From what Nikolai had told me, my family were target of a sinister client. Nikolai's family were contracted to eliminate us.

Now the Flamecrest family was a renowned royal lineage.

We were popularly known for our genetic trait of fiery red hair.

From our ancestors spanning down to our descendants, we all possess red hairs.

We were even rumoured to possess mythical powers which was a lie because it was just a fancy legend.

But deep down, I suspected my family hid tons of secrets. My parents, in particular were highly secretive individuals.

Our country estate has a labyrinth of underground tunnels and passageway and secret libraries.

So yeah, Nikolai made a valid point when he mentioned my family pose a political threat.

But a threat to who exactly? To the world? Is he kidding?

"Who was this client?" I asked, my voice at edge. "Tell me his name."

Nikolai held his cigarette in the air, staring at me intently.

Then he parted his lips and said, "No."

* * * *

Nikolai took me to a hospital to get my cough checked and treated.

After that, we drove to an elegant beauty salon where he handed me over to a team of skilled stylists.

"Give her your best beauty treatment. The exclusive packages. I want it all," he ordered.

I was happily dragged away by the stylists. "We'll transform you into a movie star," they said to me.

First, I had a luxurious spa treatments to rejuvenate my red hair colour.

Next I was given a refreshing facial which made my skin glow. A pro makeup artist applied makeups that brought out my natural features.

Afterwards, the stylists decided it was time to select the perfect outfit.

In the changing room, designer dresses lined up for me to choose from. A fashionista tried on several dresses on me.

Meanwhile, Nikolai patiently waited for me in the salon's lounge area. He was having a series of phone calls, speaking rapidly in Russian.

Kwame and Vladimir stood by his sides, creating an iconic presence of a king and his sentinels.

When I stepped out of the changing room and stood before Nikolai, he stopped talking all of a sudden.

His demeanor changed when his eyes met mine.

Those deep penetrative crimson red eyes came alive with admiration and a maddening desire to consume me.

He took off his sunglasses and stood to his feet so he could drink me all in.

I felt a wave of discomfort at the way he looked at me, the way he wet his lips and those red eyes burning me up inside.

I frowned and turned my face away. "Quit staring like a fool. If you're going to say something, say it."

I heard Kwame suck in a gasp. He and Vladimir were shocked at the way I spoke to Nikolai but I was past caring.

They could burn in hell for all I care. For Nikolai, I am his hell. He needs no other.

I shall burn him to ashes, resurrect him and burn him over and over again.

Nikolai stepped towards me, his regal presence filling the lounge and creating an electric charge between us.

He stood before me, held my chin and tilted my head backwards so I could look up at him.

The stylists were watching, Vladimir and Kwame were also watching but neither Nikolai nor myself felt their presence.

It was as if everything and everyone else had faded into the background, leaving just the two of us in our own little world.

Then Nikolai spoke in the softest tone. "Hazel, you look so beautiful."