Page 11 of Twisted Vows

With a final nod, I stepped back, allowing her to unlock the main door and disappear inside the building. I remained rooted in place another moment, though I couldn't see her. A strange sense of unease settled over me, a nagging feeling that I had just set something in motion that could potentially upend the delicate balance I had fought so hard to maintain.

Pushing aside those thoughts, I turned on my heel and walked back to the coffee shop to retrieve my vehicle. I forced my thoughts from Mika back to my responsibilities to the bratva and tried to banish her image from my mind.

***

Over the next few days, I was drawn back to Jitter Beans time and again, my visits becoming more frequent than strictly necessary. Each time, I would linger longer than intended, engaging Nika in idle conversation while basking in the warmth of her presence.

She seemed to sense the undercurrent of danger that clung to me, yet rather than recoiling, she leaned into it, her curiosity piqued by the mystery that shrouded my life. One afternoon, as she prepared my usual macchiato, she said, “I can’t quite put my finger on what it is you do for a living.”

I arched an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “What makes you think I’m not simply a man who enjoys a good cup of coffee?”

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “Call it a hunch,” she said, her gaze holding mine. “There’s just something about you that suggests you’re not an average joe.”

I laughed at her astute observation. “Perhaps I’m simply a man of many layers,” I said in a husky voice.

She didn’t back down, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of intrigue and challenge. “In that case, I look forward to peeling back those layers, one by one.”

A frisson of heat coursed through me at her bold words, igniting a smoldering ember deep within as I imagined her peeling off my clothing one layer at a time. I leaned closer, our faces mere inches apart, and close enough for me to inhale the intoxicating floral scent that clung to her skin.

“Be careful what you wish for, Nika,” I said, my voice a low rumble. “Some secrets are better left undisturbed.”

For a heartbeat, time seemed to suspend, the air crackling with an electric tension that threatened to consume us both. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she broke the spell, her lips curving into a coy smile. “I’ll take my chances,” she whispered, her gaze holding mine with a brazen intensity that caused a shiver of anticipation.

It was clear I was treading dangerous waters that could potentially sweep me away if I wasn’t careful. Yet, even as the voice of reason urged me to retreat, to maintain the boundaries that had kept me safe for so long, another part of me yearned to give in to these unaccustomed feelings.

Nika represented a tantalizing glimpse into a world I had long since forsaken. I was powerless to resist the siren call of her allure, even though I doubted there could be a happy ending.

Chapter Five – Rurik

Malachi had been spending far too much time at Jitter Beans, though perhaps he thought I hadn't noticed. There was only one reason for him to continue returning multiple times per day, and it wasn't to get another caffeine fix.

Nika. A name that now carried a weight I couldn’t ignore. Her silvery tresses, her disarming smile, and the gentle lilt of her voice were all seemingly innocuous details that had managed to pierce through the armor Malachi had so carefully constructed around himself. I wasn't immune either.

As we strode toward the sleek, black SUV parked nearby after our daily trip to get coffee, I stole a sidelong glance at my friend, brow furrowing slightly. “You know the rules, Malachi,” I said, my tone low and cautionary. “Getting tangled up with outsiders is a risk we can’t afford.”

His jaw tightened, his piercing gaze fixed ahead. “I’m aware of the rules, Rurik,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “What's the harm in ensuring her safety? She’s too delicate and innocent to face the dangers of this world without a protector.”

A wry smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Can’t argue with that. The problem becomes, who will protect her from our lifestyle?”

He grunted at me without answering as we got into the car. I hoped I'd given him something to think about, but I sympathized and understood his reaction to the petite barista. For a brief second, I allowed myself to envision what it might be like to have her in our lives, shared between the two of us as we preferred.

Even as I entertained those fleeting thoughts, the weight of my allegiance to the bratva pressed down upon me like a vise. We were soldiers, bound by a code that demanded unwavering loyalty and the ability to sever ties at a moment’s notice. Attachments were a liability, a weakness that could be exploited by our enemies. We weren't forbidden to take girlfriends or even wives, but they had to understand our code and be part of our life for it to really work.

As the city blurred past the tinted windows, I grappled with the conflicting desires that warred within me. For the first time that I could recall, I yearned for something more than the constant interaction of violence and retribution that defined our lives, tempered by the ingrained discipline that had been drilled into me from a young age. I was still loyal to my brotherhood, but I ached for something more.

Malachi’s gruff voice broke the silence, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. “She’s better off not knowing the truth about us.” His words hung in the air, a tacit acknowledgment of the unspoken boundaries that governed our existence.

I nodded, my expression impassive. “Agreed.” As I concurred with him, I wondered if Nika could find a way to share our lives and embrace our world. It was a fool’s dream, but I allowed myself to imagine it unfolding for just a second.

***

The days that followed were a study in restraint, a constant battle to maintain the boundaries that had been drilled into me since I first pledged my allegiance to the bratva. With each visit to the coffee shop, those carefully constructed barriers seemed to erode, chipped away by her disarming presence.

Malachi’s behavior didn’t go unnoticed. The subtle shifts in his demeanor and the way his gaze would linger a beat too long on Nika as she moved behind the counter, were telltale signs of an attraction he couldn’t quite conceal. If he was trying to fight it, he gave no evidence.

It was during one such visit that the situation took an unexpected turn. Malachi and I had settled into our usual booth, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. As Nika approached our table, a tray laden with our orders balanced precariously in her delicate hands, a sudden commotion erupted near the entrance.

An unknown Armenian associate strolled in like he owned the place before coming to an abrupt stop when his gaze landed on our table. He froze, as did we before Malachi and I surged to our feet. His eyes widened in alarm, and he was looking around hastily, as though plotting an escape.

---