All Chapters of His to Keep: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chapter 11: Nikolai’s POV – Expectations“Again.”Nikolai didn’t argue.He adjusted his stance, ignoring the ache in his ribs, the tightness in his shoulders, the faint sting still lingering in his knuckles from earlier training. None of it mattered. It never did.He moved forward.Strike. Block. Counter.Faster this time.Cleaner.Controlled.“Better,” his uncle said, circling him slowly. “But still distracted.”Nikolai exhaled sharply. “I’m not distracted.”“You’re here,” his uncle replied. “But not completely.”That was the problem.Nikolai reset his stance again, jaw tightening.“I won the round.”“This isn’t about winning.”A pause.“It’s about control.”Control.He had it.He always had it.“Then control yourself,” his uncle continued. “Because when you hesitate out there—” he gestured vaguely, meaning more than just the training room “—it won’t be a missed strike. It’ll be a mistake you don’t recover from.”Nikolai didn’t respond.Didn’t need to.He understood.He had been rais

Chapter 13: Nikolai’s POV — A ProblemThe gun clicked empty.Again.“Focus.”Nikolai didn’t lower the weapon.Didn’t blink.Didn’t respond.Across from him, the target hung shredded at the edges but intact at the center—where it mattered.Where it counted.Missed.Not completely.But enough.A mistake he wouldn’t usually make.“Your grip is off,” Viktor said from behind him.Nikolai inhaled slowly through his nose, adjusting his hold, feeling the weight settle differently in his palm.Familiar.Controlled.He fired again.This time, the bullet landed clean.Center.Silence stretched through the training room, thick with the scent of gunpowder and expectation.“Better,” Viktor said.Nikolai lowered the gun, setting it down with deliberate care.“That wasn’t the first shot,” he replied flatly.“No,” Viktor agreed. “It wasn’t.”There it was.Not criticism.Worse.Observation.Nikolai reached for a cloth, wiping his hands slowly, methodically. No wasted movement. No visible irritation.Bu

Chapter 15: Arlo’s POV — Off Balance“You’re still thinking about it.”“I’m not.”“You are.”Arlo doesn’t look up from his laptop.Kevin leans back in his chair, studying him like he’s a sketch he hasn’t decided how to finish.“It’s a party, not a contract,” he says. “You don’t need to analyze it.”“I’m not analyzing it.”“You paused for ten seconds before answering.”“I was working.”Kevin tilts his head. “You always say that.”“Because I usually am.”A beat.Kevin exhales through his nose, not annoyed—just… noticing.“That’s kind of the problem.”Arlo’s fingers still over the keyboard.“What is?”“You’re always working. Always thinking. Always…” Kevin gestures vaguely, searching for the word. “Somewhere else.”Arlo finally looks at him.“I’m here.”Kevin meets his gaze.“You are,” he agrees. “But not really.”Silence settles between them.Not heavy.But not easy either.Arlo closes his laptop.Slowly.Deliberately.“What do you want me to say?”“I don’t want you to say anything,” Ke

Chapter 17: Nikolai’s POV He didn’t follow him out. That would’ve been obvious. Unnecessary. Nikolai stayed exactly where he was, watching the space Arlo left behind like it still held something worth studying. Three years. And Arlo still walked away the same way. Controlled. Deliberate. Like distance was a decision, not instinct. Nikolai exhaled slowly, adjusting his sleeve. No rush. There was never a need to rush. Because now— He knew where to find him. The next day is quieter. Structured. Predictable. Nikolai arrives early. Not because he needs to. Because timing matters. He takes a seat near the back of the lecture hall, posture relaxed, attention casual. Students filter in. Voices rise. Settle. Then— Arlo walks in. No hesitation. No searching. Straight to his usual seat. Bag down. Notebook out. Pen ready. Routine. Nikolai watches him for a moment. Still disciplined. Good. He moves then. No announcement. No hesitation. Just crosses the space and

Chapter 19: Arlo’s POV – Shared WallsThe first night in Nikolai’s penthouse was worse than Arlo expected.Not because of the luxury surrounding him—the soaring ceilings, the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the glittering city skyline like a living painting, or the marble countertops that probably cost more than his entire childhood home. No, it was the awareness. The constant, skin-prickling knowledge that Nikolai was just on the other side of the wall. Close enough that Arlo could hear the faint creak of floorboards when he moved, the low hum of a distant shower, the occasional rustle of sheets. Every sound reminded him: Nikolai was *there*. Breathing the same air. Existing in the same space.Arlo lay in the enormous king-sized bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets cool and impossibly soft against his skin. He stared at the ceiling, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if that could somehow anchor him. His mind replayed the day on an endless loop—the chaotic flood at the dorm, Niko