Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)
London Miller
For Kris.
Where would I be without you.
Is the man who leads the lamb to slaughter not just as guilty as the man who slits its throat?
Niklaus Volkov
Part One
Chapter One
2009
Niklaus
“This is fucking torture.”
Holding her hand a bit tighter as he hurried them across the street, Niklaus Volkov smiled at his girlfriend, Sarah Buchannan, narrowly missing being hit by a speeding car, its horn still blaring as it continued down the street. Less than thirty-six hours ago, they had boarded a plane to New York, leaving behind the sunny beaches of Florida for the cold, frostbitten streets of Manhattan.
While he might have preferred the sun on his face and a surfboard under his arm, Niklaus didn’t mind the cold, if only because he wanted to make Sarah happy. He was cool with having his balls freeze off—glad for once that he was finally able to give her something she had always wanted.
When they had met, it hadn’t been love at first sight, not even second. She had been head cheerleader at their high school, spending most of her time around a similar crowd. Niklaus, on the other hand, hadn’t even ranked on the social ladder. As the son of a Russian immigrant working long hours scrubbing toilets for the very people he went to school with, they never let him forget his place down at the bottom.
Was he ashamed of his mother? Absolutely not.
Did they try to make him feel that way every chance they got? All the fucking time.
He learned rather quickly that though they ran their mouths constantly, bullying him in a way that only entitled, rich kids could, they weren’t quite as skilled with their fists. And that was one thing he was definitely good at.
Fighting was all he had known after growing up in a rough neighborhood before moving to one that was just a step above it. That skill might have protected him, but it had also nearly prevented him from graduating with his class since the principal had been one step away from expelling him. One day, for reasons only she knew at the time, Sarah had stepped up and put an end to it, making sure that the jocks gave him space.
At first he’d been angry at her interference, not wanting someone like her to come to his defense. He couldn't be sure what kind of game she'd been playing—if she was playing one. And despite how he treated her, and he had been downright cruel at times, she had continued to be nice to him until he finally let his guard down.
It hadn’t taken long before he realized she was different. Soon their unexpected friendship had turned into something more.
Hatred had turned to acceptance.
Acceptance had turned to attraction.
From the attraction bloomed a relationship that Niklaus never could have fathomed. From the moment she became his girlfriend, Sarah became his world.
He had wanted to show her that he could be more than just the ‘help’ as so many viewed him. Even after they graduated and she had gone off to Florida State, while he chose to stay back in their hometown, working backbreaking construction to help his mother around the house, their bond had never broken.
It was no secret Sarah’s family was far better off than Niklaus’—even if this was never voiced aloud—so instead, he gave her little things money couldn’t buy.
He had gone to see her every other weekend just because. And when he had made her a locket by hand, carefully working on each little detail until it was just right, she had cried after he gave it to her as if it was the best thing in the world.
But even if it wasn’t, she had made it feel that way.
Niklaus knew she was the girl he was going to marry, and knowing this, he wanted to make the proposal special. So for two years, he had saved every last spare penny, planning their trip to the one place she had always wanted to visit. He had barely slept in that time, working overtime to the point that his boss had to force him to go home.
It had all been worth it.
She skipped ahead of him, arms outstretched as she tried to catch the falling snow on her tongue. This was the happiest he had ever seen her.
And he had done that. He had put that smile on her face.
His hand drifted down to his pocket once more, feeling the indentation the ring box had made, he let the familiarity of it soothe him. Thoughts of how he would propose had plagued him all night, but he still hadn’t found the right moment to get down on one knee and just ask.
Sensing his gaze, Sarah turned back to look at him, her smile growing wider, blonde hair like a halo around her face, “How could this be torture? It’s beautiful out here.”
Yeah, but he was used to seventy-degree winter days, not the negatives that they had up north. Even wearing a Henley, a hoodie, and a leather jacket—one that she had bought for him because ‘it looked good on him’—he was still freezing.