Or maybe it is. My heart sinks.
"Nicolai, I'm really sorry," I say a second time. This time, I feel truly repentant. I don't like making him angry at me.
He looks up from his phone.
"What was that?"
"I'm really sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have been so rude to you."
A corner of his lips quirks up, making my heart stutter in my chest. The man never smiles.
"You shouldn't have, but I forgive you. All is well."
Warmth floods my chest from his forgiveness and reassurance that everything is okay, bright and beaming like the midday sun. Then he's back at his phone, concentrating on something. I pretend I'm on my phone, but I can't help but watch as his gaze goes from casual to dark, and his jaw tightens. He curses under his breath.
"Nicolai?" I ask curiously. "What is it?"
But the car cruises to a stop at the hall where my party is being held. Nicolai gets out of the car first, then extends his hand to me. I look at him for a moment in bewilderment. It's unusual for him to touch me like this.
"Let's go," he says. "You earned this party. You'll enjoy it."
"Will I?" I ask, with a little snort of laughter.
But he doesn't respond. He's already on guard, taking in every detail as I step out into the bright sun. Eric is waiting for us, and when I get out of the car he pulls me to him in a quick hug.
"There she is," he says, handing me a brightly-wrapped package. "Congrats, babe."
"Thank you," I tell him, squirming under Nicolai's stern glare. I feel him watching as Eric slides his arm around my lower back and pulls me closer to him, then leans in for a brief kiss. Guiding me to the door, we enter, and cheers erupt. I forget Nicolai for a little while. All my friends are here. Every one of them, as well as my family. I join them, allowing myself to be swept away by their enthusiasm.
And when I look up, Nicolai is gone. I know he isn't truly gone, though. He never takes his eyes off of me.
We party late into the night. Eric gives me a spiked ginger ale, which I pass off as a regular soda, and by the time they're closing the doors to the rental hall, I'm feeling a little tipsy.
Eric leads me to an empty hallway, and pulls me to him. "Come back to my place tonight?" he asks.
"I..." my voice trails off. It's hard ditching Nicolai, and after that display in the car earlier, I'm not sure I'm game for pushing him. "I'm tired, Eric."
"Are you serious?" he asks. "C'mon, Marissa. Just for one night. Ditch that oaf that follows you around like a puppy dog and head out with me. Just for tonight."
"He is not an oaf," I say tightly. "And I don't think so."
Eric turns on me, his playful attitude growing quickly cold and demanding. His grip on my arm tightens to painful. "One night," he says.
My pulse quickens at his angry temper. I've never seen him drunk before. Is he a mean drunk?
"I-I don't think so," I tell him.
"That necklace I got you wasn't good enough?"
I try to pull away but he grabs my wrist.
"She said no. Do you need me to say it for her?" The deep voice makes both me and Eric freeze.
Nicolai stands a few feet away, and he looks angry enough to kill. I look from him to Eric, and can tell they're on the verge of an epic pissing match.
"Yeah, no," Eric says, rolling his eyes at Nicolai. "All good there, chief."
"Marissa, come with me," Nicolai says, quirking a finger at me.
This time, I go willingly, though at the look on Nicolai's face, I'm not sure he's the safer choice than Eric. When I'm within arm's reach of Nicolai, he shocks me by grabbing my arm and yanking me close to him.
"Nicolai!" I say in shock. "What are you—"
His mouth comes to my ear. "You listen to me. You go back in that room and say good-bye. Tell them all you're going to a friend's house tonight and you'll be there a few days."
"What?" I whisper. He wants me to lie? My heart hammers in my chest. I don't know why he's demanding this, what his endgame is—
"Yes. Now."
The blue fire in his eyes tells me he's deadly serious. I shake my head in confusion, but he grips my arm tightly. "Go."
"You're scaring me, Nicolai," I whisper, shaking my head. This isn't the man who's protected me for nearly five years, but someone deadly. Dangerous. Terrifying.
I know he's a prominent member of The Bratva, but I've chosen to remain deliberately ignorant of all things Bratva.
And then he's caging me in, one arm above my head and one at my throat. I can't breathe, my lungs frozen as shock and terror sweep through me.