Page 36 of Matteo
I shrugged. “Even criminals need defenders. She could be the one to bail us out of jail.”
Penelope shook her head. “And you’re implying that we’ll all go to jail?”
“I mean, it’s a real possibility,” I reasoned. “But that’s neither here nor there. I just think it would suit her.”
Francesca tapped her chin pensively before she responded.
“If you don’t count the fact I’d have anyone who opposed me murdered, sure. I mean, I’m open to challenges.”
“But—”
“Nuh-uh. It’s decided. I’m going to be a lawyer.”
Penelope looked as if she wanted to say something, but instead, she continued walking down the thick forest path toward the music blaring in the distance.
We all continued in silence, slowing as we approached the bonfire in the middle of the empty meadow.
“Boo!”
The six-foot-five ghoul that appeared from behind a nearby tree was now towering over us, scaring the living crap out of the six of us—much to his delight.
Nikola Nikolaev, the damn lunatic, wore a face smeared in ghostly white paint, stark and unsettling. Jagged black lines carved out skull-like teeth around his mouth, stretching into a manic grin that split his face in two—wild, unhinged, and brimming with chaos. I’d heard of the things they got up to at their gatherings, but I never fathomed it would be so… terrifying.
So there he stood, bare-chested and looking like some psychopath who was about to eat us for dinner.
Seeing our expressions, Nikola tipped his head back, his laughter boisterous.
“You should see your faces right now.”
I glared at him. “You should see the ugly facewe’restaring at. And where in the fuck is your shirt, you mad Russian? This isn’t a nudist campus.”
“Too fucking hot.” Obviously, the idiot was used to Siberian temperatures.
“And what’s your excuse for that ugly paint on your face? It’s not Halloween.”
He flipped me off and I narrowed my eyes on him.
“You scared the bejesus out of us,” Skye signed, her breathing erratic.
The look he shot her sent my own heart into panic. I grabbed her hand and pushed her behind me protectively.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
“No, you’re not,” Nikola announced. “You wanted to crash a party, so follow through.”
Skye sidestepped me bravely, and the rest of the girls followed suit. Most girls were nervous around the man, although judging by the look on Skye’s face, she wasn’t.
“Stop fucking with them, Nik,” she signed, breathing harshly. “And we haven’t crashed anything.”
I held my breath when the pale blue of his eyes narrowed, darkening on Skye.
“Skye, little babydoll. Stop being brave and challenging me.” He smiled that cold, unhinged smile that the Nikolaev family was known for. Except that Nikola took the cake on all of them. “I’m a broken heart collector and leave ashes in my wake. If you’re lucky, you’ll only need professional help when I’m done with you.”
Obviously braver than I was smart, I shoved him, but his bulky frame didn’t even budge. “Have you lost your mind? You don’t threaten the daughter of Dante Leone.”
And you usually didn’t survive it either. Skye’s biological father was the only one who had openly declared war against the Nikolaevs after he learned about the daughter he lost and the Nikolaev involvement—albeit innocent—in that. He would gladly torch this world while ensuring his family was safe on some tropical island.
“Sweetheart, you don’t mess with a Nikolaev.” He had a point there, but there was no fucking way I’d acknowledge it. “We can definitely take him.”
