Page 109 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
His body reacted, semi-hard cock already stiffening beneath his pants. He could take care of his lust, this physical issue, but there was something deeper that couldn’t be satiated.
Another sigh filled the empty space around him, the city lights glimmering beyond the panes of glass. As he laid on his couch, eyes tracing the skyline’s silhouette, he thought about all the decisions leading him here—leading him so far from where he originally wanted to go.
What had begun as a random interaction had quickly turned into a dirty investigation. One that had transformed into him feeling things he shouldn’t toward a woman who was out for blood.Hisblood. But he’d always wanted to escape Romanov Real Estate, his burn out so far gone that he feltnothingwhen his men and business started crumbling all around him.
Instead, he only felt alive when Anika was near.
He needed to get some rest, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it hard. Many nights he fell into bed, drained and letting sleep claim him before the incessant thoughts did, but tonight proved harder. After many minutes of laying there, waiting for his mind to go blank and for the ever elusive pull of sleep to find him, Mikko gave up.
Standing, his sock clad feet carried him to the sleek stairs leading up to the loft of his residence. It was an open space overlooking his living room below. It was too small for his tastes for a bedroom, but it was perfect for one of his many hobbies. Photography.
The glass paneled railing allowed for unimpeded views while he sat at his L-shaped work desk. Papers and crafts and models littered the surface. It was the one area he allowed himself to be free and messy—no rules. Minimal wall space forced him to only hang art he deemed unparalleled: pieces of his mom’s collection. The brush strokes were sure, the whispering and soft landscapes wholly her. Every time he saw them, he smiled. It’d been a pain in the ass to track them down after his father had sold them off nearly two decades ago, but now Mikko had limitless money and power.
When he wasn’t consumed with the mafia or his father’s incessant teachings, he let his mind wander to the aesthetics and the beauty of the surrounding world.
Painting with his mom had been one outlet, but now he enjoyed capturing people’s essence through photos. There were binders on his desk that were filled with compositions and experimental shots. Pictures of places he’d visited abroad. Anything that captivated him, he had a photo of.
As his finger trailed over the edge of a model he’d made, he knew he was avoiding the inevitable—drawing out his fate. He should be opening Anika’s folder instead, sifting through everything it contained like his life depended on it—because it did—but one last night of daydreaming wouldn’t hurt, right?
How many times are you going to tell yourself that?he thought miserably. Other than vodka, avoidance was his coping method of choice.
Mikko was softer than most, a fact his father had drilled into him, but he shook the thoughts away. Running his hands through his hair, the strands wild and in need of a comb, Mikko moved over to gaze at the messy pile of photos on his desk—some ranging from sunsets and landscapes, to unassuming people he’d captured on the city streets.
And beneath those, lurked ones giving physical form to the muse of his mind.Anika.
Eyes full of anger and mischief, the color of melted caramel, liquid under the heat and sure to eviscerate anyone who got too close.
Dark hair enticed him to come closer despite her poisonous bite.
Anika. Anika. Anika.
He made sure to hide them beneath the other photos, desperately trying to convince himself they were only here because of his personal investigation. And the hidden album of more photos on his phone? Same explanation. But now, after the night he’d spent pressed closeto her—kissing her—he was starting to question it.
How bad can it be?
A dangerous thought.
As his mom always said,“Beautiful things enrapture people like us, Mikko. Others often won’t understand, but that’s okay.”
He gritted his teeth, the pit in his stomach yawning, threatening to consume every bright spot he’d held close in his heart. He wondered who he would have become had his mom managed to stay beside him. It was a haunting question keeping him up on nights like these.
And with no one to tell, Mikko often slipped into bad coping methods.
Another one being Anika.
* * *
Mikko - 24 Years Ago
“—he’s coming with me regardless if you think it’s a waste of time,” Mikko’s mom whispered from around the corner. Her voice was strong and defiant in the face of his father even as she desperately tried to keep Mikko from overhearing the conversation.
Eavesdropping was becoming one of his favorite pastimes, his ability to creep through the halls of their house and gather information slightly addicting to his childlike brain.
“He needs to be here, with me, learning the business,” Alek responded. “How else will he learn?”
“He has his whole life ahead of him, don’t rush him. He’s too young. What could you possibly have him do?”
Mikko softly smiled, forever grateful his mom spoke when he couldnot. Recently, tensions had been running high, the real estate business taking off and keeping Alek busy. Despite the success, his father was tense, looking for someone to take his frustrations out on, and Mikko always wound up being his scapegoat.
