All Chapters of Her 3 Domineering Mafia Bodyguards : Chapter 311 - Chapter 320

Chapter 309Nina’s POVI was still gasping for air from laughing at Nikolai’s playful response when a loud, chopping roar shattered the morning quiet.Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!The heavy sound of spinning helicopter blades vibrated directly through the palm-leaf roof above us. The air pressure dropped violently, making the leaves of our small shelter shake and rattle against the wooden frame.My heart did a massive, joyous leap inside my chest."A helicopter!" I squealed out, completely forgetting about my unfastened bra or the aching muscle pain in my back. "Nikolai, it is a rescue helicopter!"Before Nikolai could even move his long legs, I scrambled toward the front opening of the shelter on my hands and knees. I burst out into the bright morning sunlight, running barefoot across the soft, damp sand toward the open shoreline.Looking up into the clear blue sky, I saw a large, dark green military helicopter descending rapidly over the tree line. It was flying dangerously low, kick

Note: WELCOME TO YET ANOTHER BACKSTORY,PROBABLY THE LAST AND THATS NIKOLAI’S STORY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT,SWEET COMMENTS AND STICKING AROUND.I LOVE YOU ALLLLLLLL!!!! Muahhhhh NIKOLAI’s BACKSTORY Chapter 311The Last Normal NightJolene by Dolly was playing in the background while The smell of roasted lamb, garlic, and fresh rosemary filled our warm, spacious dining room in the quiet suburbs of Saint Petersburg.The heavy crystal chandelier above the long oak table cast a soft, golden glow across the polished silverware, expensive red wine glasses, and neat rows of porcelain plates. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a light, peaceful snowfall was beginning to drift down over the frozen garden, turning the dark night into a calm winter landscape.For our family, nights like this were extraordinarily rare.My father, Viktor Sokolov, was a top NASA astronaut and elite aerospace commander whose classified orbital assignments kept him locked away in remote space stations an

Chapter 313Nikolai’s POV The clock on the ICU wall read 10:14 PM. We had less than two hours before Dr. Vane returned with a lethal dose of potassium chloride.I stood in the dark corner of the hospital room, the glow of my custom-built laptop screen illuminating the sharp angles of my face. My fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard at terrifying speed, executing a series of encrypted protocols designed to tear through the federal banking firewalls protecting my father's offshore wealth."Nikolai, this is insane," Nicholas hissed, pacing frantically back and forth near the locked door. His white medical coat was rumpled, his hair a chaotic mess as he wrung his hands together. "You are breaking into federal banking servers inside a secure medical facility! If the agency catches us—""The agency is coming to murder our mother at midnight, Nicholas," I interrupted without looking up, my voice flat, cold, and entirely devoid of panic. "The law died the second they put a hit on her.

Chapter 315Nikolai’s POV The deception began subtly, like a small crack spreading across a glass sheet.Nicholas started small. He borrowed my heavy dark wool coat, the one I wore during late-night rounds around the clinic perimeter. He adjusted his posture, straightening his broad shoulders to mimic my stiff, disciplined military carriage. He dropped his naturally expressive voice down an octave, smoothing out his lively cadence into my low, flat rumble.From my seat inside the security monitoring room, watching the high-definition surveillance feeds, I saw him approach Freya at the edge of the courtyard garden.She was standing near the koi pond, wrapped in a pale gray cardigan against the chilly autumn mist. When Nicholas stepped up beside her, wearing my coat and my face, she looked up with that bright, breathtaking smile that usually made my heart beat wildly against my ribs."You came out," Freya said softly on the audio feed, her warm almond eyes shining as she looked at him.

Chapter 317Nikolai’s POVThe high peaks of the Japanese Alps were silent, save for the biting winter wind sweeping across the jagged grey rocks.High above the clouds, carved directly into the sheer cliff face of Mount Tate, sat an ancient, isolated Shinto monastery. No phones reached these heights. No wires, no digital signals, and no news from the world below. For six long months, it was the only place on earth where I could bury the dead shell of the man I used to be.I stood barefoot on the frozen wooden platform of the outer courtyard, wearing only loose linen trousers despite the sub-zero air.My broad shoulders and chest were covered in a light sheen of sweat, steam rising off my skin as I completed my five-thousandth striking drill of the morning. Every punch was a mechanical, lethal execution. Extension, rotation, impact. My knuckles were scarred, rough, and split from months of hitting ironwood posts, but I felt zero pain.In the monastery, I reached a permanent flow state.