God Of Crimson : A Mafia Deal Sealed in Sin

Battle Lines and Boundaries

Nikita Volkov
The days that followed were a whirlwind. Plans were being made, alliances forged, and each conversation carried the promise of war. But tonight, for the first time in what felt like forever, Nikita was alone with Nikolai, far from the endless meetings and tense exchanges.

As they walked through the garden surrounding the Russo estate, a rare moment of peace descended. The scent of blooming roses hung in the air, mingling with the crisp night breeze. For a second, it was just them.

"What's on your mind?" Nikolai's voice was low, his hand grazing her arm as they walked.

"Nothing," she replied, though her mind was anything but blank. She was thinking of Sofia's threat, the alliances they were securing, and, most of all, of him. "Or maybe... everything."

He chuckled, a sound that always sent a thrill down her spine. "You can't fool me, Nikita. You're tense."

She rolled her eyes, but his gaze pinned her in place. His eyes held that dark glint that always meant he was up to something, and before she could ask, he grabbed her waist, pulling her close. "Let's forget about everything tonight. Just you and me," he murmured against her ear.

Her heart raced as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sent heat spiraling through her. Nikita gave in, her mind clouding with the rush of his touch, every nerve igniting as his hands moved to the small of her back, pulling her impossibly close.

"Always so eager," she teased between kisses, threading her fingers through his hair.

"Only for you," he shot back, his voice husky.

Their laughter died out, replaced by a simmering tension that left no room for words. He lifted her into his arms, carrying her inside and up the grand staircase. They didn't break eye contact, both feeling the weight of the moment, knowing they were on borrowed time with war looming closer by the day.

The Bedroom

The door clicked shut, and the rest of the world ceased to exist. Nikolai set her down, his gaze raking over her like he was memorizing every inch. Nikita's breath hitched as he stepped forward, his hand cupping her cheek with an unfamiliar tenderness.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because," he replied, his thumb tracing her cheekbone, "you're the only person who's ever really seen me."

His confession caught her off guard. Before she could respond, his lips found hers again, and words no longer mattered. The intensity of their kiss left her dizzy, his touch igniting something primal within her. The barriers between them dissolved, the tension of the past fading into a fervor neither of them could hold back.

Clothes fell away, and the night grew quiet, only their breaths and murmurs filling the room as they lost themselves in each other.

The Morning After

When Nikita awoke, the early morning light was casting a soft glow across the room. She blinked, half-disoriented, and felt the warmth of Nikolai's arm draped over her. Turning her head, she found him awake, watching her with a soft smile that made her heart skip.

"Good morning," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She smirked, feeling an unexpected contentment. "Good morning. You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep. Too many things to think about." He paused, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. "Mostly about you."

She laughed softly, rolling her eyes as she sat up, pulling the sheets around herself. "Careful, Russo. I might start to believe you actually like me."

"Oh, I do," he said, his voice a low growl as he reached for her, pulling her back down beside him. "And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know it."

Before she could respond, a loud knock shattered the tranquility. Viktor's voice called through the door, sounding more urgent than usual. "Nikolai, you need to come down. Now."

Nikolai groaned, rolling his eyes but reluctantly pulling himself away from her. "Duty calls," he muttered, throwing on his clothes.

Nikita followed suit, her mind switching from the peaceful morning to the weight of what awaited them downstairs.

The Revelation

As they entered the main room, Viktor was waiting, a grim expression on his face. "We've got a problem," he said, handing Nikolai a phone. "It's Sofia. She's made her first move."

Nikolai's jaw clenched as he read through the message. "She's hit one of our supply lines. Took out our men stationed there. She's not waiting for us to come to her."

Nikita felt a surge of anger, but there was also a thrill in her chest. She knew what this meant. "Then we hit her back," she said, her voice laced with determination. "Hard."

Nikolai looked at her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I love how you think."

She shrugged, though her heart was pounding. "Someone has to keep you in line."

Their banter was cut short as Viktor cleared his throat. "There's something else," he said, his tone more cautious. "Sofia's recruited someone new. An old contact of yours, Nikita."

The name Viktor dropped was enough to make her blood run cold. It was someone she hadn't seen in years, someone who knew every trick she had up her sleeve.

Nikolai noticed her reaction, his brows furrowing. "Who is he?"

"An ex," she said, her voice tense. "And not just any ex. He's dangerous. He knows my weaknesses."

"Then we need to prepare," Nikolai said, slipping his arm around her, his expression deadly serious. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you, Nikita. Not him. Not anyone."

She nodded, swallowing the unease clawing at her insides. She wasn't one to back down from a fight, but she knew this one would test her in ways she hadn't anticipated.

As they left the room, side by side, Nikita couldn't shake the feeling that they were on the edge of something massive. It was more than revenge. This was about survival, about love, and the power they were building together.

And nothing—not even Sofia's twisted alliances—could stop them.