Even though I’m supposed to be mad at him, I can’t possibly leave him alone after that. He’s the type who hides his emotions to the point it backfires against him.
I find him in the closet. His jacket has been discarded on the floor, and he’s removing his shirt.
“Are you okay?” I slowly approach him.
Kirill throws his shirt down, revealing tense muscles. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
I stand in front of him so that I’m between his body and the closet door. My fingers find his scruff, and I stroke his cheek. “It’s okay not to be okay.”
“I’m perfectly fine. It’s actually good to know why she never liked me and never will. I have her assaulter’s genes, which isn’t something she’d ever approve of.”
“I feel sorry for what she’s been through, but she had no right to treat you and Karina as if it was your fault.”
He says nothing, but he leans into my touch, slowly closing his eyes.
I wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face in his naked chest. Turns out, this is the type of consoling he needs, because Kirill circles my waist with his arms and engulfs me in his embrace.
His low whisper nearly stops my heart. “Thank you for being here, Solnyshko.”
23
KIRILL
I’m annoyed.
No, that’s an understatement. I’m teetering on the edge of rage and loss of control.
It’s taken inhuman strength to keep a cool head about the situation I’ve found myself in. Namely, the distance Sasha has slowly but surely continued to implement between us.
It’s been getting worse since I put that tracker in her about a week ago. But then again, it’s not like she wasn’t doing it before. The only difference is that she’s taking it further.
She’s been trying to spend as much time with anyone but me. And while she has a surprisingly heightened sex drive lately, she pulls away almost immediately after, throwing out all sorts of excuses.
I have to meet Kristina.
I promised Karina I’d go on a walk.
Rai and Lia invited me for lunch.
Viktor is taking me to see my brother.
Every day, there’s some sort of reason why she can’t spend time with me. It doesn’t help that I’ve been caught up in some new shit Damien stirred, and I’ve had no time to corner her.
Maybe I should take her to that cabin again so that it’s only the two of us and no one will dare to interrupt us.
Otherwise, she’ll keep getting further away until we reach the fucking deadline she imposed on this relationship.
“I have a bad feeling about this. It smells like a trap,” Viktor says while watching our surroundings with a gun in hand.
We’re near a shipping dock on the outskirts of the city. It’s one of the sites where we complete our transactions with the cartels. I haven’t been here in ages, though. Especially not since I became Pakhan.
All these petty operations can be taken care of by others.
It’s late at night, so the only sound is Viktor’s harsh breathing and the occasional crash of the water against the pier.
“We already have backup stationed all around the dock.” I adjust my glasses. “So even if Makar planned to ambush me, we have enough manpower to eliminate him and whoever he brings along.”
“What if he colluded with the Pakhan of the Chicago branch and brings more men than we have?”
“One, that’s paranoia. Two, you’re overestimating Makar’s influence.”
“Or maybe you’re underestimating it…” he trails off and tenses, and I sense a third presence near us.
Sure enough, Makar carefully slips out from between the containers. He carefully studies the area as he approaches us.
His steps turn heavier after he notices Viktor by my side. He asked to meet alone, but he should know by now that Viktor vehemently refuses to stop being my shadow.
Makar is a bald man with an average build, a pointy nose, and thin lips. He also always wears suits that look a size too small.
“I thought we were meeting alone?” he asks when he’s in front of us and motions at Viktor with his chin.
“You have no place to set down rules, motherfucker,” my senior guard says in his usual blunt way.
“You know how he thinks we were born attached at the hip.” My tone is welcoming and less intense than Viktor’s.
Makar manages to relax a little, even though his gaze keeps shifting sideways.
“Care to tell me where you’ve been?” I ask in the same friendly tone.
“Around.” He releases a breath. “I was never supposed to come in contact with you again.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I found out that the person I worked with is planning to take you out, and that was never part of the plan. I couldn’t just sit back and watch. Your father told me to help you get to the top, not get rid of you.”
Viktor steps forward. “You have the goddamn audacity to stand there and admit that you colluded with someone else against your own boss?”
“I didn’t have a choice! My family was threatened.”
“You could’ve come to me for that, and I would’ve made sure they were safe.” I grab Viktor by the shoulder and pull him back. “But there was another reason, wasn’t there?”
Makar scratches the side of his bald head. “I thought Sasha was taking away your concentration from what’s important. Besides, she’s the daughter of your father’s enemies.”
“So you decided the best way to take care of that was to kill her.” My affirmation is calm, so calm that he swallows.
“I was only asked for assistance.”
“By whom?”
“Konstantin.”
My body goes rigid, and a ringing sounds in my ear. Even Viktor’s brow furrows as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
Have I been too mellow and too negligent with my brother? How can I possibly ignore that he could’ve participated in this mission?
It makes sense from what the Albanian guy said about meeting secretly and how his ally wanted to hurt me as much as possible.
Was everything he’s done in the past few months excellent acting? Or have I slept on the fact that he could be a better manipulator than me?
He said the right words. Displayed the right emotions. He stood by my side like when we were kids and looked up to me as a brother.
“Proof,” I say with enough tension to make Makar stand upright.
He shows me texts he exchanged with my brother about the plan and some photos of them together.
Logically, that shouldn’t be enough evidence since they can be faked, but my mind is veering in the exact opposite direction.
This is the detail that I’ve been missing during my search for Sasha’s killer—or the one who attempted the blasphemy.
Ever since my wife told me she’d left a fake behind, and I realized the DNA results had been manipulated, I knew the perpetrator was close.
I just didn’t know how close.
I was willing to suspect my guards, but I never really suspected Konstantin. Especially since I’d started to see glimpses of the old him after his wedding.
Maybe all of that was a fa?ade, too.
He must’ve enjoyed seeing me crumble and lose control during the two months I thought Sasha was dead.