Page 66 of Nikola
“Step into the library with me?” I gestured down the hall, letting him walk ahead of me.
Once inside with the door firmly closed, Mr. Leone turned around, staring at me expectantly.
“Okay, Nikola. What’s so important?”
“Skye can’t get engaged to Amadeo Marchetti,” I stated firmly. “He’s all but a stranger to her, and she’d be better off with me, under the protection of the Nikolaev family name.”
Tense silence followed, a range of emotions—none good—filtering through his eyes. Then he drew a deep breath in and closed his eyes for a heartbeat.
When he opened them, I knew his answer before he uttered it. “No.”
Do. Not. Lose. Your. Fucking. Temper.
“With all due respect, sir, you’re making a mistake,” I said. “Every member of the Nikolaev family knows ASL. Expertly. We understand her. We—Iknow her strengths. We’ll make sure she’s never held back from her full potential.” I paused, rolling my lips. “The Marchetti family are strangers to her.”
“They won’t be strangers for long. I’ve looked into Amadeo. He’s a good kid, serious. He will be faithful to my Skye.”
“So would I.”
There was no chance he could have misinterpreted those words.
He flashed me a smile. “Didn’t I tell you I’d feed you to the sharks if you tried anything with Skye?”
“You did.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I meant what I said.”
I shrugged. “If it keeps Skye out of the Marchetti family tree, go ahead. Feed me to the sharks.”
“Meaning?”
“I won’t let her marry that fucker.”
“Yes, you will. Look her way, boy, and you’ll wish you were never born.”
I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down.
Dante took a step closer, getting in my face. It might have been effective, if only I wasn’t taller than him.
“Skye doesn’t need a man who’s into perverted, kinky shit.”
“Who says I’m into that?” I challenged, more than willing to give all that up if it meant marrying Skye with her father’s approval.
“Let me make this clear, Nikola. For as long as I’m breathing, there is no chance in hell that Skye will be your wife.”
Why wasn’t I surprised one fucking bit?
He stormed out of the library, my words not making it to his ears as I muttered, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Dante Leone.”
22
SKYE
Idon’t want you to teach me how to tie my tie. I want you to do it for me. Every day for the rest of our lives.
Nikola’s words played on repeat as I wrestled with sleeplessness. When I woke up the next day, giddy with hope, the sun was high in the sky and the digits on the clock blinked 10:09 a.m. in angry red letters. The Thanksgiving weekend was quickly coming to an end, and I didn’t want to waste another minute.
I shot out of bed, brushed my teeth, and was about to go in search of Nikola in this vast Nikolaev compound when the door of my room opened.
