Ice & Prejudice

Chapter 9

Nik's POV

NEARLY THREE YEARS AGO

November 3rd:

The courtroom buzzed with the low hum of voices, the sound grating on my nerves as I sat beside my family. My father, Eduard, was to my left, stern and unreadable as always, while my aunt Kathryn sat to my right, her expression calm but with a faint tension that only I seemed to notice. And then there was Vlad, my younger brother, looking uncharacteristically composed, considering the accusations being thrown at him.

Victoria sat across the room, her presence both infuriating and, though I hated to admit it, strangely magnetic. Obviously, I heard a lot about her. But this was the first time I actually saw her in real life. She looked like a mess—dark circles under her eyes, her now short hair hastily pulled back, her clothes rumpled and loose, her pouty lips full, as she nervously chewed on them, pale skin contrasting her red cheeks and nose due to the November Oregon weather.

Now she looked fragile, like she might break at any moment. But still... there was something about her, even now, that caught my attention, something that made it hard to look away. Even if I despised her for lying, trying to break my family and our perfect image, steal our money and good reputation, like many have tried in the past, but failed miserably. Just like she will.

The judge called the court to order, and the proceedings began. Victoria's lawyer went first, presenting what little evidence they had—a few screenshots of texts that she claimed were from Vlad, some pictures of bruises on her arms, neck, stomach, thighs and a handful of other weak pieces of so-called "proof." I felt my lips curl in disgust. It was pathetic. Those bruises could've easily been faked with makeup, and those texts could have been sent from anyone's phone.

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as I listened to her lawyer drone on about the supposed trauma Victoria had suffered. Vlad sat motionless beside me, his face a mask of calm indifference.

But I knew my brother well enough to sense the tension in him, the barely concealed anger that simmered beneath the surface. I glanced over at him, catching a flicker of something in his eyes—nervousness, maybe? But then he looked up, meeting my gaze with that charming, confident smile of his, and I shook off the doubt that had started to creep in.

When it was Vlad's turn to speak, he stood up, composed and self-assured as he addressed the court. He denied everything, his voice steady, his tone measured. He explained how Victoria had been obsessed with him for weeks, how she'd been the one pursuing him, and how, when he rejected her, she'd concocted this whole story to ruin him. The way he spoke, the way he twisted the narrative—it was convincing. Even I found myself nodding along, believing him.

But then there were moments when I couldn't help but notice something... off. The way his voice would waver slightly when he talked about the night of the supposed assault. The way his eyes darted to the floor when he described how Victoria had "begged" him to be with her. They were small things, things that could easily be explained away by the stress of the situation. But still, they nagged at me.

I pushed the doubts down. This was my brother. My younger brother was many things—arrogant, a bit of a player, annoying as fuck, really fucking dumb—but he wasn't a criminal. He wasn't capable of what Victoria was accusing him of. He would never hurt a woman like that. Not after we found out about what happened to aunt Kathryn when she was a teenager.

But when I glanced back at Victoria, hunched over in her chair, her eyes downcast, I couldn't help the unease that curled in my gut. She looked broken, defeated. If this was all an act, she was doing a damn good job of it. She was just as twisted as Vlad claimed.