NIKOLAI
THE TENSION IN my shoulders refused to ease, even as I stepped out of the car. Ross Manchelo had been a thorn in my side for weeks, but today? Today, the bastard had earned himself a special place on my list of problems to resolve—permanently.
The doors to my estate were already open when I arrived. A soft murmur of "Boss" followed me as I strode through the marble-floored foyer, but I didn’t bother acknowledging it. I had no patience for pleasantries tonight.
Up the stairs, straight to my study. No stops.
The scent of aged scotch greeted me as I poured a glass, the amber liquid catching the faint light from the fireplace. The first sip burned, but it wasn’t enough to drown the feeling sitting on my chest. As I sank into my chair, the room seemed quieter than usual, empty
