Chapter 4 One Bed,No Mercy

Aliara

The silence after a gunshot is almost worse than the sound itself.

I stood frozen in the center of Nikolai's private suite, my wedding gown now stained with someone else's blood. Riven's body lay crumpled at my feet, the metallic scent of fresh death thick in the air.

And Nikolai?

He didn't say another word. He didn't look back.

He just left.

I heard the door slam behind him-soft, deliberate, like he still had the last word.

And he did.

He'd just killed my ally and walked away like it meant nothing.

I dropped the flash drive onto the marble floor, its casing cracked but still intact.

The evidence I'd risked everything for-smeared with blood and regret.

"Shit," I whispered, pressing my hand over my ribs where the tight silk bodice was suffocating my breath.

There were no tears. No panic.

Only fury.

Because now it was war.

Nikolai

I didn't sleep.

Instead, I sat in the hallway, outside the suite, gun in my lap, watching the elevator doors.

I'd let her live.

Why?

Because some sick part of me still wanted her.

Even after she lied. After she tried to rob me blind on our wedding night. After she stared at another man like he was the one she trusted with her life.

I should have ended her. Snapped her neck. Burned her into ash.

But I walked away.

And that was the most dangerous thing I could've done.

Because Aliara Navarro was a wildfire.

And I had just given her oxygen.

Aliara

I showered.

Wiped off the blood. Peeled off the ruined gown. Washed the taste of betrayal out of my mouth.

Then I put on one of his black silk robes-because screw him-and crawled into the middle of his absurdly large bed.

Not to sleep.

Just to wait.

He came back at 4:00 a.m.

The door opened. Footsteps slow. Deliberate.

He stopped at the edge of the bed and looked down at me.

His gaze flicked over my body, hidden beneath his robe.

His jaw clenched.

"You're still here."

"I live here now, remember?" I said flatly. "Wife of the year."

He didn't answer. Just shrugged off his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, and toed off his shoes.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Going to bed."

"With me in it?"

"It's my bed."

"And I'm your traitor, remember?"

He didn't even blink.

"Exactly."

I stared at him.

"You have a gun under the pillow, don't you?"

"Two," he replied, sliding in beside me.

His body radiated heat. Control. Fury. Lust.

I stayed completely still. Barely breathing.

He didn't touch me.

Didn't look at me.

But his voice was cold enough to cut steel when he whispered, "Try to run again and I won't miss your heart next time."

I rolled onto my side to face him. Inches away.

"You still want me dead?"

He looked at me then. Fully. Quietly.

"No," he murmured.

Then added, "That's the problem."

Nikolai

The next morning, she was gone.

Not gone-gone.

Just out of the bed.

The robe was folded neatly at the end of the mattress.

The bathroom door was cracked open. I could hear water running. Humming.

She was humming.

Like she hadn't tried to steal my empire hours ago.

Like we hadn't just spent the night in bed pretending not to dream of killing each other.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair.

The mattress still smelled like her skin.

She came out a minute later-wearing black leggings, a fitted white tank, and a leather jacket she definitely hadn't packed herself.

"Whose jacket?" I asked, arching a brow.

"Your brother's," she smirked.

I didn't move.

She shrugged. "Don't worry. I stabbed it first."

"Of course you did."

She walked past me and opened the closet, ignoring my stare.

"You're going somewhere?"

She zipped up the jacket. "Coffee."

"You think I'll let you out of this penthouse?"

"I think you will if you want to keep pretending this marriage is real."

I stood.

Moved to block the door.

"I'll have the staff bring you coffee."

"I want real coffee," she said. "From an actual café. With caffeine and judgmental baristas."

I folded my arms. "With guards."

She leaned in close, smiling like sin.

"Send all the guards you want, husband. Just know... if one of them flinches, I'll slit his throat with a sugar packet."

And then she kissed me.

Fast. Hot. Rebellious.

Before I could grab her, she turned and walked out-leaving me with nothing but adrenaline and a headache.

Aliara

The café on 72nd and Halberd was exactly the kind of place Nikolai would never be seen dead in.

Which made it perfect.

The guards waited outside in their suits, clearly instructed not to touch me. But their eyes tracked every move I made.

I sipped my espresso slowly, letting the bitterness sharpen my focus.

I wasn't here for the coffee.

I was here for the girl behind the counter.

Lumi.

Tiny. Sharp. Covered in ink and piercings. She worked for one of my old contacts and owed me two favors.

"You've got ten minutes," she muttered, sliding me a napkin with handwriting inked beneath the folds.

"Is it real?" I asked.

"Straight from the docks. Vexler's next weapons shipment. Tonight. Midnight. Brooklyn Pier."

I nodded.

And froze.

Because when I glanced through the window-

Nikolai was there.

Not the guards.

Him.

Watching.

Waiting.

Testing me.

I slipped the napkin into my sleeve.

Walked to the door.

Opened it.

And smiled.

"You missed me already?"

He didn't smile back. "Get in the car."

Nikolai

I'd never followed a woman before.

But Aliara wasn't a woman.

She was a war I hadn't won yet.

And that napkin in her sleeve?

I saw it.

Didn't say a word.

Not yet.

Let her think she was still playing me.

Let her plan her little heist.

Because when midnight came...

I'd be waiting.