Trials and Errors by Rachel Haimowitz, Heidi Belleau Page A

Nikolai said, “then your first step is to return to my good graces. I think you know what that means.”
    Mathias’s tongue darted out to lick at cracked lips, and his eyes went to Nikolai’s crotch. Then he blanked his face— it’s all good, look how cool I am with this —and nodded. “But just so you know,” he said, and the absence of the “sir” at the end of that statement was more pointed than the words he’d spoken, “I’m not doing this for me or you. I’m doing this, all of this, for the people it protects. Roger”— Yeah, I know you beat him, fucker , that gaze said—“and Dougie. So I’ll do it, I’ll be the good little slave, I’ll fight when you want me to fight and I’ll stop when you tell me to stop, and I’ll suck your cock and take the beating I know you plan to dish out afterward, and I’ll even fucking thank you for correcting me if that’ll get your rocks off. But the instant—the instant you take Dougie away from me, I’m done. I’m outta here.” He leveled his gaze at Nikolai, no forced ease now, just naked truth and angles sharp enough to flay someone on. “So you’ll let me see him, you understand? And when we leave this place, we leave together . Or you can tell me no, and we’ll find out just how bad for business it is when your client’s new multimillion-dollar prize offs himself before the fucker even gets to have any fun.”
    Well, that was . . . not unexpected, Nikolai supposed. In fact, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the fact that his fighter had such a wily little brain behind the brawn. Still, the reality of it rankled —he knew damn well he couldn’t call Mathias’s bluff, at least not now, because it wasn’t one. He couldn’t play the trump card of Mathias’s affection for Roger again, either, not without Mathias wising up to their little game. And time had made it clear that nothing short of breaking Mathias for good would knock the unrelenting stubbornness out of the man. Oh, Nikolai could break him, could break anyone , but the client’s requirements wouldn’t permit that. Not this time.
    Which meant Nikolai would simply have to outsmart him. Wear him down piece by piece and stay three steps ahead.
    Fortunately, he had an idea.
    “All right,” he said. “But do be careful what you wish for.”
    Mathias thought that was bluster—Nikolai could read that clear as day on the man’s face—but he’d learn the truth soon enough.
    “And watch your tone in the future. You’ve had your say. If you ever speak to me like that again, I won’t react so kindly the next time. You’d do well to call me sir , too. Or master.” His hand drifted to his pocket, where an auto-injector was tucked away. He wasn’t afraid to use it, not this time. “Honestly, Mathias, will you really make me start at the beginning again?”
    The tiniest flash of fear in Mathias’s eyes proved that no, Nikolai wouldn’t have to start quite at the beginning. “No, sir ,” Mathias said. “Have it your way. Sir.”
    Nikolai curled his fingers around the hard plastic. “I’ve half a mind to use this anyway, given what a spoiled little brat you’ve been the last ten days. But you owe me more than that. You’ll be active in what’s coming to you. You’ll stand still for it, and yes, you will thank me for correcting you.”
    “Get on with it, then. Sir.” Mathias glared at him, stony-faced and unafraid. Which was just what his client desired, although Nikolai certainly didn’t see the appeal.
    “ You get on with it. Go to the dresser. Third drawer down, there’s a black case. Bring it to me. Remember to offer it to me properly .”
    Mat went to rise to his feet, and Nikolai barked, “ No . You crawl before your master.”
    Mathias’s sigh was downright theatrical, but he dropped to his hands and knees. Minute tremors ran through his arms as he shuffled toward the dresser. He’d eaten a dozen tiny meals in the last twenty-four hours, but clear juices and