#nik is just a tired ~~husband~~ consigliere

[sanktnikolais]

A Little Wicked

A/N: so here is your resident zoyalai writer again with another zoyalai fic (bc what’s new) for the @grishaversebigbang​ mini bang!!!! This had been a fun mini event before the actual big one, and I had the absolute honor to work with two very awesome and great artists @generalstarkov and @jjelliacee!!! I love these two sm they have awesome creations pls give them a follow and no i don’t take no for an answer HAHAHA

Check out their awesome creations in companion with this fic! 

@generalstarkov [x]

@jjelliacee [x]

Word count: 2320

Summary: A commotion at one of the Lantsov’s businesses in Kribirsk happens, and it is going to be a lot of paperwork and stress for the Consigliere to work on again. But when he gets there, he doesn’t expect who the main reason of his suffering is. 

To say that Zoya was utterly pissed off was an understatement. There was something about seeing the gray shade of the Brum associates's coats that ticked at her patience. 

          Their color looks dead, Nikolai’s unwanted and yet familiar voice echoed in her head. She wanted to strangle him even when he was not physically there. As if the Lantsov green was any better than gray. But she figured that maybe it was a bit better than the dull shade she was now seeing in front of her. 

          She had come—escaped—to the small pub downtown in Kribirsk to have some breather away from the fiasco that happened in Os Kervo. She’d already had enough shit from the Brums intercepting the Lantsovs’ arms shipments, and she had held back from going completely undiplomatic on them.

          But now, if the Brum lackeys continued their uncivilized talks with her, perhaps she wouldn’t hold back.

          “Are you sure you don’t want some company?” he asked for the third time, and the two other men with him laughed.

          Zoya suppressed an exasperated sigh as she raised the glass to her lips. She eyed the young man with a narrowed glance, then turned her attention to his cuffs. The embroidery around it looked new, a double black stripes of a newly promoted Soldier from an Associate. His companions had the same rank. So that explained the unawareness of who she really was, and the common principle between the families.

          They didn’t have an explicit rule that members of a Family weren’t allowed in another’s business, but all seemed to have an unspoken agreement to stay away from a rival territory unless invited. Out of respect, she figured, and they did maintain it most of the time. Maybe these morons hadn’t been briefed about it yet. 

          An idea suddenly came to her mind. A mad, trouble-worthy idea that she was sure Nikolai would have enabled if it wasn’t about to give him a headache later. He was her literal headache anyway, so it was only fair if she paid back in kindness. Besides, she could use a bit of stretching today. 

          Zoya smiled menacingly. “Come closer, and I’ll tell you,” she said in a rather sensual tone, and it earned a grin from the man in the middle. He did as he was told, leaning forward on the table and inching closer to her face. When he was finally near enough, she let out a light chuckle. 

          Then she swiped the bottle of whiskey from the table and struck it to the man’s head.

          He recoiled with a scream of pain, and she didn’t give time for his companions to react and kicked the table to them, causing it to flip over and hit them on their faces. They toppled on the floor in a heap.

          “Saints,” Zoya sighed as she stood and opened the top two buttons of her top. She was mad and exhausted and drunk. She needed a breather. 

          The man who had annoyed her since earlier tried to stand up, but she put her heel to his face and kept him on the floor. His two other companions looked up at her, bewildered. She gave them a pointed glance that had them frozen in their places.

          “Who do you think you are, woman?” the man underneath her heel shouted. He tried to twist off from her foot, but she drove her toe further down to his cheek. Another pained groan came from him.

          Zoya slowly rolled up the sleeve, showing the dragon tattoo that twisted around the expanse of her forearm. 

          “Oh, shit,” one of the men said. “It’s the Lantsovs.” 

          She smirked in return and braced an elbow to her knee, leaning closer to the man. “Allow me to introduce myself, then.”

***

          The first thing Nikolai thought of when he saw the state of the building were the paperworks, and it only became worse when he finally got inside and saw more of the mess. When he received a call regarding some ruckus in one of their businesses, he thought it was a prank. Even businesses as small as this still had a lot of records that needed to be taken care of, and it was his job to handle those paperworks. He almost wanted to cry. Couldn’t the people choose any other location than this?

          “Nikolai.”

          He was startled out of his lamenting when he heard his name called, and he turned to see Tamar with a pitiful expression. “I know, I know,” he said, looking back at the sight in front of him.

          Toppled tables and chairs along with broken bottles of expensive drinks littered the floor, and the smell of alcohol filled the pub with a bracing odor. Nikolai looked down to his feet, seeing what he could tell was what was left of a Hennessy bottle lying on the floor. There was a slight twinge in his chest. Such a sad, sad waste.

          “I’ve talked to some of the witnesses,” said Tamar after a moment, her voice thoughtful. "I think it was the Brums." 

          "Dearest saints in the heavens, give me more patience," muttered Nikolai with a wince. Today's news about their shipment getting intercepted had been bad enough. Driving almost two hours to this saintsforsaken town just to know that the same family had caused them another trouble? Atrocious. He could already feel a headache coming at him. "Were the police involved?"

          "Yeah, they've arrested four people. Three men, and apparently one woman." 

          Nikolai put a hand to his forehead, rubbing it gently as if doing so would keep the headache from coming. But when his temple started to pound, he figured the attempt was futile. 

          Then a thought struck him, and he turned to the Lantsov caporegime with a frown. "There's a woman?" He didn’t know why, but there was an uneasy feeling in his gut. "Arrested?" 

          "Apparently, yes. It's quite a surprise too."

          "Oh, dear me." 

          The headache finally came to hit him full force, and Nikolai had to wince. His migraine was nasty, but he knew Zoya's anger was nastier if she knew about this ruckus later. 

          But speaking of that woman…. 

          "Wait, where is Zoya again?" he asked Tamar in genuine wonder. He hadn't heard from her since she reported about the shipments this morning. "And Tolya? Why wasn't she alerted first about this mess?" 

          The Lantsov caporegime visibly paled, and dread washed over Nikolai. His mind started to come up with the worst scenarios, making the pounding on his temple worse than it already was. 

          "About that…."

          "Tamar," he said, voice hard. Something was definitely not right, and Nikolai narrowed his eyes. Zoya was supposed to be the one handling this matter. Where was she when she was needed? "What is it?" 

          Tamar sighed, and with a quiet voice, she said, “Tolya is trying to find Zoya.”

          “He’s doing what now?”

          “He said that Zoya just suddenly got up and drove off after the mess in Os Kervo. He hadn’t seen her since.”

          “Where is she? Had he found her?”

          As if on cue, a ring tone blared, making the both of them jump. They both scramble for their own phones. It wasn't his phone, so it only meant it was Tamar's. 

          Tamar winced when she stared at the phone screen. "It's Tolya." 

          Nikolai snatched the phone from the woman's hands and answered it. "Tolya," he said. 

          The other line was silent for a moment, and then a slightly panicked, "I can explain." 

          "Don't mind that. Where is she?" 

          There was a short pause before the line disconnected. Nikolai frowned. 

          "What—" 

          A sharp ting sounded, signaling that a text message had just arrived. He narrowed his eyes at it. 

          It was an address, and it looked familiar. 

-

          Nikolai waited at the front desk of the precinct, with his fingers massaging at his temple to soothe the throbbing away. So this was why he felt a strange dread in his stomach when Tamar mentioned about a woman who got arrested. 

          Because it was Zoya all along. 

          The woman on the deks finally returned, and she turned her attention to Nikolai. "Yes?" 

          He straightened up and fixed his tie. "I'm here for Zoya Nazyalensky," he said, a little unsure if he was speaking coherently. "Attorney Nikolai Lan—"

          "Oh, are you her lawyer and husband?" 

          "Yes, I—" Nikolai blinked. It took a minute for the words to sink in. What? "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" 

          "Her lawyer husband, or who she says is the one to get her out," the woman said. A shadow of fear flashed across her face. "She and those three other guys caused quite a damage in a bar though." 

          He raised an eyebrow and turned to the direction where the woman was pointing. There were three men sitting by the bench on the side, huddled up so closely they looked like they were practically glued to each other. The bruises on their faces only proved that they were involved with the mess in the bar. Caused by Zoya. Nikolai narrowed his eyes, noticing the shade of their coats to be ash gray. He scoffed. Brums, indeed. Now he quite understood the anger his boss had.

          They finally noticed Nikolai, and, if it was still possible, became paler than they already were. The three of them shrunk back further into their seats.

          “They were too afraid to be in the same cell with the woman that got arrested with them and they preferred to stay here in the waiting lounge," the woman said grimly, making him turn back to her. "Scary looking woman, your wife is. Are you here to get her out on bail?"

          That is a good question, Nikolai thought. Should he get her out right away? Or let her stay for a few more hours so she could reflect on her mistakes? But knowing Zoya, it's the mistakes that would need to reflect on themselves. "Yes, but can I see my, uh, " he said, "my wife first?"

          “Of course. Give me a moment, sir.”

          She disappeared from the desk again and made her way to the maze of desks behind her. A few minutes later, she reappeared, but with Zoya Nazyalensky trailing behind her this time. Apparently, his boss didn’t look like she was just arrested—she still walked with deadly grace, with her hand braced on her shoulder where her coat was slung, and a downturned sneer on her lips. But what caught his attention was the bottle in her other hand.

          A new wave of pain hit Nikolai’s temple, and he had to sigh in exasperation. How was she able to bring alcohol to the precinct? And they didn’t even take it from her?

          Zoya caught his gaze, and her expression quickly melted into a cheery one that terrified Nikolai. She never smiled like that. “Darling,” she said, her voice mocking honey-sweet, “it’s so good to see you.”

          “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied with the same tone, and it only brought back her dark glare. He winced as he approached her, his hand enclosing around the exposed tattoo on her arm. “Zoya, what the hell. Isn’t it supposed to be me you’re helping to get out of trouble? Why had the tables turned?”

          “Questions after questions, dear Consigliere. One at a time. But to not answer anything, I needed a drink, and the Brums pissed me off twice today. I only gave the favor back,” she muttered before she leaned back and laughed lightly, continuing the act of a ‘loving wife’ who was glad to see her husband. Then a glare appeared in her eyes as she looked over the three men on the bench. They visibly shook in fear. “Let’s just get out of here before I decide to completely make them unidentifiable.” 

          “That doesn’t even help—” He stopped when Zoya gave him a glare. With another sigh, he said, “Fine. But let’s keep it cool until we step out of here, alright?

          She just rolled her eyes and put the bottle back to her lips. Nikolai turned back to the front desk with a smile that he was sure looked like a grimace. Then after a few minutes of handling the ordeal, with the amount of bail surely hurting their coffers, they were finally ready to walk freely from the precinct. He sighed as he shoved his wallet back to his coat, and was about to call for Zoya when he heard the sound of a glass breaking.

          “If I see you three near our property again—”

          Nikolai’s eyes widened when he saw Zoya pointing a half-broken whiskey bottle at the three men, and he scrambled to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to hold her back but her stance was unrelenting. “Zoya, dear, what did I say about keeping it cool?” he mumbled in her ear all the while keeping a smile to his face as he looked around the alarmed people in the precinct. 

          The three Brum associates only nodded in understanding as if Zoya had completed her sentence, and it seemed to sate her because she finally let Nikolai drag her out of the building. When they got out of the doors, they both dropped the act and immediately stepped away from each other as if they had just burned. Tolya and Tamar were already waiting for them by the car across the street.

          “Free at last,” muttered Zoya.

          “Why didn’t you text or call me right away?” Nikolai asked incredulously. “Would have gotten some medicine for the headache as precaution.”

          Zoya turned to him with a frown. “You speak as if you’re not a headache yourself.” Then she let out an annoyed breath, averted her eyes, and lowly added, “I forgot your number.”

          He raised an eyebrow, amusement suddenly overpowering his headache. “Zoya Nazyalensky forgetting something? So unheard of,” he said. Then a smile crept up to his lips. This woman was really something else. “And you dare to forget your husband’s number?”

          Nikolai barely had the time to dodge the broken bottle flying towards him.