Bianca?

The car ride to the airport was silent, but it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was the kind of quiet that felt like a bomb with a ticking timer. Nikolai sat as far away from me as possible, staring out at the streets. Every time the car hit a bump and our shoulders brushed, he would stiffen like I had burned him.

By the time we boarded the plane, I was a nervous wreck. The Titans players were all there, eyeing me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I was the billionaire’s son, the guy in the viral video, and now their "consultant." I felt like an alien in a locker room.

"Sit," Nikolai commanded, pointing to the seat next to him in the back of the plane.

"I can sit with the staff, Nikolai. I don't want to make things weird for the team."

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my jacket. "I said sit. If you're going to be my guard, start now. I don't want people asking why my consultant is hiding in the galley."

I sat. The flight to Montreal was short, but it felt like ten hours. We didn't speak a single word until we reached the hotel. The Montreal Ritz-Carlton was beautiful, but I barely looked at the lobby. I just wanted to be behind a locked door.

Our rooms were connected. A heavy wooden door stood between my suite and his, and the moment the bellman, who helped in carrying my luggage left, Nikolai pushed it open and walked into my space.

"Who was he?" Nikolai asked. No hello, no "did you like the flight." Just an angry voice and face directly at me.

I was busy putting my suitcase on the stand. "Who was who?"

"The guy in the shop." He spat the name like it was poison. "You looked very comfortable with him. Is that your usual type? Some soft, preppy boy who drinks overpriced lattes?"

I turned around, my anger finally reaching the surface. "He’s an old friend from school, Nikolai. Not that it’s any of your business. Why do you even care? You’re the one who told me that night was filth. You’re the one marrying my sister."

Nikolai stepped closer, his body falling over me. "I care because you’re a liability. If you’re running around with 'friends' while the whole world is watching that video, it makes us look like jokes. It makes me look like a joke."

"Is that what this is about?" I stepped toward him, my chest almost touching his. "Your reputation? You’re so scared that people might think we’re actually fighting that you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend."

"I am not jealous," he hissed, his eyes dark and wild.

"You are. You walked into that shop like you wanted to snap his neck just for sitting at my table. Admit it, Nikolai. You can't stand the thought of anyone else touching what you think you own."

"I don't own you," he rasped, his hand reaching out to grab the back of my neck. "But I can't get you out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. I taste you. It’s making me lose my mind on the ice."

"Then do something about it," I whispered.

He didn't hesitate. He pulled me in, his mouth crashing against mine with a desperate, hungry force. HIs lips moved around mine, claiming it while his teeth dragged my underlips with each kiss, my dick was hard and the lust clouded my senses. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his damp hair, while his hands moved to the buttons of my shirt.

He shoved my shirt off my shoulders, his breath hot against my skin. "You're a nightmare, Alessandro," he muttered against my neck.

"Then wake up," I breathed, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

We stumbled back toward the bed, the world narrowing down to just the heat of his skin and the sound of our breathing. He had just pushed me down onto the mattress when a loud knocking sounded at the main door of my suite.

"Ale? Are you in there?"

It was Bianca.

We both froze. Nikolai looked like he had been struck by lightning. He scrambled off the bed, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with a terror I had never seen before.

"Ale? I'm looking for Nikolia," her voice came again, muffled through the door. "His phone is off, and I wanted to check on him before dinner. Nikolai, are you in there with him?" What the hell is Bianca doing here?

I scrambled to find my shirt, my hands shaking so hard I could barely grip the fabric. Nikolai grabbed his leather jacket from the floor, his face turning pale.

"Say something," he mouthed at me, his eyes pleading.

I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice sound normal. "I'm... I'm here, B! Just a second! I was just in the shower!"

"Oh! Sorry, Ale," she called back. "I didn't mean to barge in. Is Nikolai with you? I saw him head this way. I know you’re shocked, I actually wanted to surprise you both, I can’t just leave my fiance and not be supportive when he moves to a different place" I could hear the joy in her voice. Fuck what am I doing?

Nikolai looked at the connecting door to his room, then back at me. He looked like he wanted to jump out the window.

"He has left B!" I shouted, pointing fast at the connecting door. "He was giving me some... some documents for the morning!"

I heard her pause. "Documents? It's eight at night. Anyway, tell him to meet me in the lobby in ten minutes. I want to have dinner with him."

"I'll tell him!"

I listened to her footsteps fade away down the hallway. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. Nikolai stood by the connecting door, his hand on the handle. He didn't look at me. He looked at the floor.

"We almost did it," he whispered. "Right here. With her standing three feet away."

"Nikolai—"

"No," he said, finally looking up. His eyes were cold again, the heat from moments ago completely extinguished. "She’s my fiancée, Alessandro. She’s your sister. This... this is a sickness."

"It's not a sickness. It's us."

"There is no 'us,'" he snapped, stepping into his own room. "There is only the merger. And if you ever look at that Julian guy like that again, I'll make sure he never walks into a coffee shop in this city again. Stay away from me tonight."

He slammed the connecting door and locked it from his side.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my shirt half-buttoned, staring at the wood. I could still feel the touch of his hands on my skin. I could still taste the bourbon on his breath.

I was a Moretti. I was supposed to be the one in control. But as I listened to Nikolai moving around in the next room, preparing for a dinner where he would hold my sister’s hand and lie to the world, I realized I wasn't the consultant. I wasn't the guard.

I was the one who was going to break us all.