8
GEORGIA'S POV
I froze, my feet feeling as though they had been fused to the floorboards. My eyes were locked onto his, and he was staring back with equal intensity.
If I lived a thousand years and met every man on the planet, I would never forget the face in front of me.
That soft brown hair, now perfectly styled to show off the sharp fade on the sides... those dark, thick lashes... those sculpted brows...
And his eyes. I hadn't been able to see their color in the dim light of the hotel, but here, they were a staggering, deep forest green—the kind of green that felt like raw, untamed freedom.
He was the man from the hotel. Even in the middle of my absolute horror, I felt that traitorous spark of attraction to his beauty.
My heart was doing two different things at once: one side was thumping with pure, unadulterated terror, while the other was reacting with a pull I couldn't explain. A cold chill washed over me, starting in my chest and radiating down to my fingertips until I was visibly shaking.
Why was he here? Why had he called out to Jaime? How did he even get in—did he know the door code? Why would a stranger know the code to Jaime's house?
"Nikolaj," Jaime said after a few moments of heavy silence. The stranger's attention finally snapped away from me. Did he recognize me? I wondered frantically. He seemed to struggle to find a smile for Jaime, but when he finally did, it was brilliant—a flash of white teeth with slightly pointed canines that made him look dangerous and alluring all at once.
They embraced, and I felt the walls of the room start to close in. I looked away, trying to keep my breathing under control. They were friends? I had slept with my husband-to-be's friend?
My hands were shaking so violently that I tried to clasp them together, but they just kept slipping apart. I felt like I was on the verge of a total breakdown. This man... the one I'd been so vulnerable with... the one I'd turned to in a moment of heartbreak... he was here to ruin me. He was the living evidence of my own betrayal.
How was this possible? Out of all the people in this city, how could I have ended up in bed with Jaime's friend?
No. This has to be a setup, I thought desperately. A trap. But even as the thought formed, I knew it didn't make sense.
"Georgia," Jaime called out, and I jumped so high I nearly lost my footing.
"What?" I stammered, staring at the floor and taking a tiny, instinctive step away from them.
"Can we... can we finish this later? I know things are tense, but... a guest is here, and I..."
"Oh. Right. Yeah. Later," I blurted out. I wanted to run. I wanted to bolt out the door and never look back, but my legs felt like lead. I was trapped under the weight of both their gazes. How was I supposed to walk past the man I'd committed an atrocity with?
I never knew a human body could tremble this hard. My neck felt stiff and creaky as I forced myself to look up.
"Thanks. So, uh... Nikolaj, meet my fiancée, Georgia."
I should have corrected him. I should have shouted, "Ex-fiancée!" but the words wouldn't come.
The stranger stepped toward me. Every inch he gained felt like a hammer blow to my chest. I backed up another step, my breathing coming in shallow, ragged hitches.
As he stood in front of me, the memories of the night came back in a suffocating rush. The scent of his skin, the heat of his touch, the way his hands had moved over me...
Georgia, stop it! my mind shrieked. I realized I'd been so lost in the memory that I hadn't noticed he was holding his hand out to me, waiting for a greeting.
I didn't want to touch him.
"Georgia?" Jaime nudged. My eyes darted everywhere but his face as I finally reached out and took his hand.
It was soft and smooth. No wonder those hands had felt so incredible on my skin. They were large, warm, and strangely comforting.
I yanked my hand back as if I'd been burned.
"Georgia, meet my Uncle, Nikolaj," Jaime said.
It took a full thirty seconds for that word to register.
Uncle? Not a friend. Uncle.
What on earth? I had slept with Jaime's uncle?!
The shock hit me like a physical blow, triggering a blinding headache. I felt my balance go. I staggered backward, and though both men reached out to catch me, I was already falling.
I tried to grab onto something to steady myself, but my hand caught on something heavy.
The stone Alpha Wolf—the family heirloom.
Before anyone could move, it tipped and crashed to the floor right beside me. I let out a piercing scream and curled into a ball, covering my head with my arms.
This is a dream. This has to be a dream. Dust and shards of stone peppered my skin. When the sound finally stopped, the silence that followed was deafening. I lay there on the floor, feeling completely and utterly doomed.
I lowered my arms and looked at the mess. The Alpha Wolf was in a thousand pieces.
"Georgia!" Jaime's voice roared through the room.
"It was an accident!" I sobbed, but he was already hovering over me, staring at the fragments in his hands.
"What have you done?" He looked at me as if I had committed a murder. His eyes were brimming with tears, and his face was twisted with a terrifying rage.
"I'm... I'm so sorry, Jaime. I just lost my footing—"
"Damn you! Do you have any idea what it costs to restore this? The history? The specialists I'll have to find?" His breathing was heavy and ragged, his lips trembling with fury.
"Jaime, please, I swear I didn't mean to—"
He ignored me, lunging toward the TV stand and ripping open a drawer. Even Nikolaj was standing there, staring at the shattered statue in stunned silence. Jaime pulled out a massive, leather-bound book—ancient and worn—and flipped through the pages frantically. He marched back to me, shoving the book toward my face.
"Look at this," he hissed, pointing to the aged text. "It says right here: if someone outside the bloodline breaks the heirloom, they must serve the heir with everything they have. If they cannot pay the restoration fee, they owe three years of their life in service to the family."
My eyes went wide as I looked from the book to his cold, triumphant expression.
"You know you can't afford the price of this carving, Georgia. Not even close." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, chilling tone. "Now, three years of your life belong to me."
The world went silent. I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.
Was he serious? I had to give him three years of my life?