Nathan's Pov (Nicholas's Brother)
Two turns later, the alley spilled into a main street glowing under strings of lights. Vendors lined the sidewalks, their carts steaming with roasted chestnuts, grilled kebabs and sugar-dusted loukoumades. Musicians in bright scarves played traditional tunes beside stages blasting rock version Greg shadowed us, his eyes scanning through the crowd, the crowd's energy was infectious, people swaying laughing and clapping along to the music, somewhere up ahead fireworks cracked scattering bursts of color over the Bosphorus.
"Almost romantic" I said in Carson's ear.
"You're insane" he muttered.
"True" I said smiling as I scanned the street "But I'm also the one keeping you alive."
We passed a little booth tucked between a kebab stand and a stall selling handwoven scarves. Behind the counter a woman in a headscarf arranged delicate silver bracelets on a velvet pad. She caught Greg's eye smiling warmly
"You want one for your boyfriend?" she called over the din holding up a thin band etched with Turkish script and greg froze mid-step
"He's my husband," I said without missing a beat flashing her a grin, the woman's smile widened at that.
"Ah, even better, strong love is good luck." She gave a small blessing gesture with her fingers before turning back to her display and Greg shot me a look of half exasperation, half something that I couldn't quite place.
"You're impossible," he muttered
"And yet here you are" I said, steering Carson deeper into the crowd. We moved past a group of dancers in colorful skirts and overhead fireworks burst in red and gold lighting Greg's face for a moment hiding a smirk. Carson glanced between us confusion flickering over his swollen face
"What the hell is this? Some kind of honeymoon kidnapping?" We left him unanswered because we could as we pushed through the last knot of dancers.
Our ride was waiting; a black SUV with the windows tinted, we were almost to the SUV when a woman in a bright red dress peeled away from a kebab stand, her eyes locking on Greg like she'd just spotted dessert.
"Merhaba," she purred, brushing past me without so much as a glance her smile trained entirely on him. "You are very… handsome." Greg gave her a polite look and I couldn't help myself.
"Careful, sweetheart" I drawled, slipping between them. "That one's taken legally. I've got the paperwork and everything so unless you're selling marriage counseling we're good."
The woman's eyes darted from me to Greg, who only gave a small shake of his head and opened the door nudging Carson inside without a word, the woman's mouth tightened but I was already sliding in beside them.
The door closed with a solid thunk sealing us off from the music and fireworks outside, the driver didn't ask questions as they eased us through the crowd, the headlights pushing bodies aside until we broke free of the festival and into the narrow quieter streets.
Carson shifted in his seat his swollen face catching flashes of passing light. He glanced between me and Greg, his eyes narrowing despite the bruises.
"You know," he rasped his voice rough but laced with mockery, "the sexual tension between you two is palpable. You should probably do something about it before it kills us all."
From the corner of my eye I caught the faint tick of Greg's jaw before his gaze slid back to the window and I snorted softly. "You're delirious, probably the concussion talking." Carson smirked through his split lips
"Concussion or not I'd bet money he lets you boss him around more than he'd ever admit. Look at him all tense and ready to bite, but he hasn't told you to shut up yet." I tilted my head watching Greg's profile, the hard line of his mouth and the muscle jumping in his jaw, the way he still hadn't corrected Carson.
"Interesting observation," I murmured unable to hide the curve of a grin. "Maybe you're not as useless as you look." Greg finally cut me a glance, It should've been a warning but it only made heat pool low in my stomach. I leaned back in my seat "Don't worry, Carson. If I decide to claim him, I'll make sure you're not in the room. I wouldn't want to traumatize you more than you already are."
Carson let out a rough laugh that turned into a cough but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, I definitely want a front-row seat." Greg's voice was low and calm when he finally spoke.
"You're both insufferable"
The SUV cut through the darkened city the festival lights shrinking behind us until the road opened wide. Soon the sharp scent of salt and jet fuel crept in through the vents, the blacktop giving way to floodlight tarmac and waiting at the edge was a sleek private jet.
Greg muttered something in Russian to the drivers his deep voice clipped and commanding as Carson and I slipped from the car. My muscles ached with exhaustion but the sight of the jet steadied my pulse. Carson caught my gaze lingering on Greg, who was still murmuring to the drivers.
"I mean… I can see what you see in him," Carson said under his breath
"Move," I muttered shoving him forward. The metal stairs to the jet gleamed under the floodlights, I pulled out my phone and dialed Nicholas. The line clicked and the first thing I heard was a low groan drawn-out, and far too satisfied to mistake for anything innocent. My brows shot up
"Gross," I muttered, shuddering as if that could shake the mental image out of my head. Nicholas's voice came through lazy and unbothered.
"You called me, don't get mad if you don't like the background noise." I pined the bridge of my nose fighting the urge to hang up.
"We've got the package," I said instead my eyes trailed on the asshole who'd just disappeared inside the jet. "We're on our way back."
"Good," he drawled "Try not to get him killed before I see him."
"Yeah, yeah and maybe next time answer your phone without the play-by-play of your sex life" I shot back sliding my phone into my pocket. Greg was leaning against the side of the SUV, his arms folded and his eyes locked on me the second I looked up.
"What?" I asked and he arched a brow, his mouth curving just enough to make it clear he'd heard every word.
"Are you done being traumatized, or should I give you a minute to recover?" I shot him a look "Don't start."
"Didn't say anything," he said, pushing off the car.
Inside, the cabin smelled of leather and jet fuel, we stepped in, the hum of the engines vibrating underfoot Greg dropped his duffel into the overhead compartment and sank into a seat across from me. He stretched out his legs taking up more space than necessary, his fingers tapping lazily against the armrest.
Carson was strapped into the rear chair bound so tight he couldn't so much as turn his head properly, the jet's engines droned on the white noise swallowing the space. Carson shifted against the restraints the leather squeaking faintly, another muffled growl tearing from behind the gag.
The hostess passed through the aisle her smile a little too practiced and her eyes cutting toward me as she set a glass of water down on the foldout beside me. A folded slip of paper slid against the condensation with a neat handwriting, a phone number scrawled in ink. I smirked my thumb brushing over it then slid my gaze to Greg, his brow lifted
"You going to call her?" he asked his voice flat. I leaned in resting my elbow against the armrest my eyes fixed on him.
"Why would I? My attention's already taken." Carson groaned again, jerking hard enough to rattle the belt but neither of us looked at him,.
"Who?" His voice was steady but I caught the faint shift in his jaw the tell he never noticed, I tilted my head a slow curl tugging at my mouth.
"You really want me to say it?"
"Yes." I let the folded note slip from my fingers paper as it fell never breaking eye contact.
"You." The word hung between us heavier than Carson's useless struggle in the seat. Greg's knuckles flexed against his armrest, the motion small but noticeable like a tremor barely restrained.
"Figures," he said finally his voice low, I leaned back in my seat watching him watch me.
"Is that a problem?" Greg's mouth curved
"Problem?" His tone rolled over me like velvet hiding a blade
"No, I'm surprised you admitted it though I thought you'd keep playing." The way he said playing did something to me like a hand dragging slowly over my bare skin.
"Maybe I was waiting to see if you'd notice," I murmured and his gaze dropped to my mouth just for a beat then climbed back to my eyes slowly and deliberately.
"Oh," he said softly with a rasp of satisfaction that made my pulse jump, "I noticed." Then he leaned in just slightly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You keep looking at me like that," he murmured "and I'm gonna end up fucking you in the tiny excuse they call a bathroom on this plane." My heart slammed into my ribs I swallowed, trying to play it cool but my voice came out rough.
"You wouldn't." Greg's eyes gleamed,
"Try me." Before I could respond the intercom crackled overhead
"Gentlemen," the pilot's voice drawled "we're about fifty minutes out from our destination. Sit tight."
.