Chapter 4 — The Deal

The morning after the storm felt eerily calm.

Sunlight streamed weakly through the cracked windows of the Volkov mansion, but it didn’t feel warm — it felt borrowed, like the light didn’t belong here.

Aria sat at the edge of the bed, the night’s horror still echoing in her mind. The shattered mirror glimmered faintly on the floor, each shard reflecting the same haunting face she’d seen — Irina’s twisted ghost, whispering death.

Nikolai stood near the balcony, shirt sleeves rolled up, staring at the horizon like he wanted to break it. The gold light touched his skin, making him look less human — more like a sculpted shadow.

“You should eat something,” he said without turning.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You need strength.”

“For what? To survive your ghosts or your temper?” she said bitterly.

That got his attention. He turned, eyes narrowing slightly. “You think I want this? You think I enjoy knowing that every time you breathe, something in this house wants to stop you?”

“Then why keep me here?” she demanded. “Let me leave, Nikolai.”

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “Because if you step outside those gates, the curse won’t just kill you. It’ll use you.”

Aria frowned. “Use me?”

He stopped in front of her, voice low. “The curse feeds on the blood of women who fall for a Volkov. My mother tried to break it. She failed. Every woman after her… gone.”

Aria’s throat tightened. “Then why risk me?”

His gaze darkened. “Because I’m selfish.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb along her jawline — a featherlight touch that sent shivers through her. “You think I don’t try to fight it? Every night, I tell myself to let you go. Every morning, I can’t.”

She swallowed hard, caught between anger and something deeper. “That’s not love, Nikolai. That’s obsession.”

He smiled faintly, but it wasn’t cruel. “Maybe they’re the same thing.”

For a moment, the air between them burned — unspoken words, trapped breath, the chaos of desire in a cursed place.

Then the moment shattered with a sharp knock at the door.

“Boss,” a deep voice said from outside. “It’s urgent.”

Nikolai’s face hardened instantly. He moved to the door and opened it. A man stepped in — tall, muscular, wearing black. His name was Viktor, one of Nikolai’s most trusted enforcers.

“What is it?” Nikolai asked.

“The Morozov syndicate moved. They took the shipment from Odessa. And… they sent a message.”

Viktor handed him a bloodstained envelope.

Nikolai opened it. Inside was a single photo — of Aria.

Taken from outside the mansion gate.

Aria’s stomach dropped. “That’s— that’s me.”

Nikolai’s jaw clenched. The letter inside was written in Russian. He read it silently, then folded it slowly, eyes turning ice-cold.

“What does it say?” she whispered.

He looked at her. “They want a trade.”

“For what?”

“For you.”

The silence after that was suffocating. The clock ticked loudly in the background.

Aria rose from the bed, voice shaking. “A trade? What— why me?”

“Because they know you’re here. And they know what you mean to me.”

Her chest tightened. “I don’t mean anything to you.”

He stepped closer, anger flickering behind his calm. “Say that again.”

“You kidnapped me, Nikolai! You threaten me, control me—”

“And yet,” he cut in, “you’re still alive. Think, printsessa — how many people can say that after crossing me?”

She glared at him, trembling. “That’s not love.”

He exhaled slowly, jaw tight. “No. It’s survival. And I’m trying to make sure you do.”

That night, Nikolai gathered his men in the grand hall. The chandeliers glowed dimly above them, casting fractured light across weapons and maps. Aria watched from the balcony, feeling the weight of the mafia world she’d been dragged into.

“The Morozovs want a meeting,” Viktor said. “They’ll expect you to bring her.”

“And if I refuse?”

“They’ll come here. With an army.”

Nikolai was silent for a long moment. Then he looked up at Aria. His voice softened, almost too much. “Then we make a deal.”

She came down the stairs slowly. “What kind of deal?”

“The kind that saves you,” he said.

Her heart pounded. “And you?”

He smirked faintly. “I stopped being worth saving a long time ago.”

Later that night, the deal began to take shape — but Aria couldn’t shake the cold dread crawling up her spine. Something wasn’t right. Even the house seemed to know it; the walls whispered faintly when she passed, warning her in voices she couldn’t fully hear.

She stood by the window in Nikolai’s office, looking at the forest beyond the iron gates. “So you’re really going to trade me?”

He looked up from the table, where he’d been loading a gun. “No.”

“But you said—”

“I said we’d make a deal,” he interrupted. “Not that I’d hand you over.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

He came closer, the glint of danger in his eyes almost beautiful. “I’m going to give them something they’ll think is you.”

Her brows furrowed. “A decoy?”

He nodded. “A woman who looks enough like you to fool them until it’s too late.”

Aria felt a chill. “And then?”

“Then I burn them to the ground.”

The casual way he said it made her skin prickle — not out of fear, but out of awe at how much power he wielded, how easily he spoke of death as if it were art.

“You can’t kill an entire syndicate because of me.”

He looked at her, eyes softening. “Watch me.”

As the night deepened, Aria tried to rest. But the mansion was restless again. The storm had passed, yet the wind whispered through the halls like it carried voices.

She turned over — and froze.

The mirror on the far wall wasn’t reflecting her bed anymore.

It showed a different room — cold, red-lit, filled with chains.

And in that reflection stood Nikolai.

But his eyes were black — pure darkness.

Her heart raced. She got up, moving toward the mirror slowly. “Nikolai?”

The reflection smiled — but not kindly. “He’s not the man you think he is.”

Aria stepped back. “Who are you?”

The dark reflection tilted its head. “The part of him that made the deal.”

“What deal?”

The reflection reached out a hand, the glass rippling like water. “The one that bought his soul in exchange for power. He’s not cursed by ghosts, Aria. He is the curse.”

The light flickered. The reflection cracked. Then the mirror went black.

Aria stumbled back, trembling. “No… that can’t be…”

She found Nikolai in the library, surrounded by books and candlelight.

He looked up immediately. “What happened?”

She hesitated. “Your reflection spoke to me.”

His expression hardened. “What did it say?”

“That you made a deal. That you’re the curse.”

He stood, eyes burning. “You shouldn’t listen to the whispers. They lie.”

“Then tell me the truth,” she said, stepping closer. “What did you trade, Nikolai?”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, in a voice low enough to make her shiver:

“My humanity.”

Aria’s breath caught. “You’re serious.”

“When my mother died,” he said, pacing slowly, “the family fell apart. I was seventeen. The Morozovs killed my father and took everything. I went to the lake — the same one where she drowned — and I begged the darkness to give me the strength to destroy them.”

He looked at her then, haunted and beautiful. “The lake answered.”

“What did it ask for?”

“Blood. And love. The two things it knew I’d never give again.”

Aria swallowed hard. “And yet you gave them both.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s why the curse woke up.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy with grief and longing.

Then she whispered, “You could have told me.”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t have stayed.”

“You’re right,” she said softly. “But I still might have understood.”

That broke something in him — she could see it in his eyes.

He stepped closer, until their breaths mingled. “Aria… if I lose control, you run.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I can’t.”

His hand cupped her face, trembling slightly. “Then God help you.”

He kissed her — slow, desperate, the kind of kiss that felt like both a promise and a goodbye.

The world outside vanished. Only the two of them existed — until the candlelight flared, and a sudden crack echoed through the room.

The door burst open. Viktor stumbled in, bleeding. “They’re here! The Morozovs— they found us!”

Nikolai turned instantly, pulling his gun. “Get Aria to the cellar!”

Viktor shook his head. “They’ve surrounded the estate.”

Nikolai’s expression changed — from fury to a deadly calm. “Then we finish this.”

Gunfire erupted minutes later. The mansion’s silence was replaced with chaos — shouting men, breaking glass, bullets tearing through the air. Aria hid behind the marble pillar, heart pounding, while Nikolai moved like a storm — precise, ruthless, unstoppable.

Every time someone came close to her, he was there, killing without hesitation.

But amid the noise, something else stirred — something non-human.

The chandeliers began to swing violently. The walls cracked. The portraits bled dark tears.

The curse was awake.

Aria screamed as one of the attackers flew across the hall, slammed by an invisible force.

The air grew colder.

And from the shadows, Irina’s ghost appeared again — her eyes fixed on her son.

“Stop this,” she pleaded. “You’ll damn her too.”

Nikolai, panting, raised his gun — not at her, but at the ground. “I already am.”

The floor beneath them cracked open — revealing the faint shimmer of dark water beneath the marble. The lake’s curse, alive under the house.

Aria’s voice shook. “Nikolai, what are you doing?!”

He looked at her, eyes full of love and sorrow. “Ending the deal.”