Twisted Chances

16. Nia (edited)

Exams were finally over.

Never in my life had I felt them as a burden, but right now? They were nothing but an obstacle standing between me and him. My future didn't lie in grades—it was in a boy with jade-green eyes who had the audacity to smile at another girl while I sat in silence.

Well... not anymore.

The very first number I dialed was Sofia's—Niko's sister, his polar opposite. They're like Uncle Alex and Aunt Ava, but reversed in gender and attitude. Niko's all warmth and light, while Sofia is carved from ice.

But she wasn't always like that. I remember her being bubbly, full of laughter. Something happened when we were younger—something that made her shut herself away. Only Niko and her parents ever got to see behind her walls. The rest of us... not a chance. Though we do sometimes get to see her warm and socialising side too... Just not quite often.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice flat.

"Is Niko home?" I blurted, skipping every polite formality. Rude? Maybe. Necessary? Definitely.

"Yes." No elaboration. No curiosity. Just that.

I barely managed a thank-you before she hung up. Typical Sofia.

Next thing I knew, I was in the car, telling the driver to head to one of the best restaurants nearby. My pulse was hammering as I dialed Niko's number. He picked up on the first ring, and that stupid, wonderful voice of his made my chest ache.

"You free right now?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was choking on air.

"Yes..." he said, dragging the 's' a little too long. "Why?"

"I want to celebrate the end of my exams. Will you join me?" My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my skirt, like a teenager confessing for the first time.

"Sure, why not."

I nearly squealed. God, I'm hopeless. But tonight wasn't just about celebrating. Tonight was about reminding him—no, showing him—that Brittany or anyone else had nothing on me.

I pulled some strings and got us a private dining room. One perk of being Christian Harper's daughter—money can buy privacy, and I needed him all to myself tonight.

The moment he walked in, relief washed through me. He always carried this aura with him, this... pull. It wasn't just his looks, though those could kill—it was the way he moved, the quiet charm that clung to him.

He handed me a bouquet of white and red roses with a card tucked inside. Congrats on achieving your resting days! it read, signed ~ Niko.

I laughed, too giddy for my own good. Our hands brushed as I took the flowers, and suddenly my whole body felt on fire. One tiny touch, and I was gone. His face flushed pink too, and that sight nearly sent me into cardiac arrest.

I wanted more. Needed more.

So, when I reached for the menu on his side, I made sure my hand slid against his on the table—just enough to make it seem like an accident. His face went from pink to red, and inside, I screamed: Victory.

The waiter's arrival ruined my perfect creation, but then Niko spoke.

"What's your ideal type?"

My breath hitched. My type? Him. Always him. But I couldn't just say that, could I?

"My ideal type," I began slowly, "is someone who loves me unconditionally. Who's gentle, who cares for me like I'm fragile but still strong enough to fight for me when I can't. Someone who can look me in the eye and say 'I love you' with so much honesty that the whole world could hear it."

He leaned in, fists pressed together like he was holding himself still. "And?"

"And..." My gaze locked onto his. "He has jade-green eyes. Eyes that shine with affection but darken into black storms when someone hurts what's his. Eyes that burn with hunger when the woman he loves is beneath him, waiting—aching—for him to take her."

His aura shifted instantly. Gone was the sweet boy. In his place sat a predator, calm yet ravenous, every line of his body screaming mine.

I crossed my legs under the table, heat pooling low in my stomach.

"Doesn't that sound a little like me?" he asked, voice edged with something dangerous.

I forced myself to breathe. "Don't think too highly of yourself, puffin. Besides, I'm high maintenance. Can you handle that?"

"You never know if you don't try," he said with a wink that made my heart stumble.

God. This man.

I tried to play it cool, but the words slipped out. "I like a gentleman on the streets... and a freak in the bed."

Instant regret. My cheeks burned, but then I saw him—the real him. The side I've only dreamed about. Dark. Hungry. Beautiful.

"Would you like to try that, sweetheart?" His voice was low, rough, almost broken with restraint.

And just like that, all the courage I needed to make the first move lit up inside me.

One touch. That's all it would take to set us on fire.