“I was worried about you,” he continues. “You stopped answering my texts. Your father said you were staying with family friends, but that didn’t sound right.”
“I’ve been dealing with some family situations. Nothing you need to worry about.”
“But Idoworry.” He reaches out and grabs her arm. “Come on. Let’s talk in private for a few minutes before class starts. There are things we need to discuss.”
He starts pulling her toward a side door. Away from the main room. Away from the security I’ve positioned.
Away from me.
I move before conscious thought registers. I cross the room in four strides, grab Nikolay’s wrist, and twist until I feel bones snap.
He screams and drops Mila, scrambling to get free.
I don’t let him.
My fist connects with his face. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood sprays across the floor. He collapses, but I follow him down and keep hitting him until someone grabs my shoulders.
“Alexei, stop. He’s done.”
Boris’s voice penetrates the rage. I look down at Nikolay. His face is a mess. Blood everywhere. He’s not moving.
I release him and stand. Every person in the room gawks at me with horror. Students, professors, and the security staff who showed up when the screaming started.
And Mila. Standing frozen with shock.
“He’s a Novikov,” I snarl. “One of the bastards hunting you.”
“I know who he is,” she whispers. “He’s also my ex-boyfriend.”
Time comes to a screeching halt. Ex-boyfriend.She dated a Novikov?Mila was romantically involved with someone from the family that’s trying to abduct her?
“You dated him?” I ask.
“Two years ago. Before everything with Irina. My parents approved. They vetted him and thought he was safe at the time.”
“Safe?” I bark out a laugh. “He’s a Novikov.”
“At the time, our families were… not friendly, but not enemies, either.”
Campus security pushes through the crowd. Someone called an ambulance. The room erupts in chaos while I stand there covered in another man’s blood.
Mila’s ex-boyfriend’s blood.
“We need to leave,” Boris urges. “Now. Before police arrive.”
I nod and reach for Mila, but she jerks back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Mila—”
“You just beat my ex-boyfriend unconscious in front of my entire graduate program. Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Just get me out of here.”
The look on her face wrecks me. Devastation, not fear. Like I just destroyed something she still cared about.
I’ve ruined everything.
Again.