“No! I snap, slamming my fist into the wall. “I want answers. And since no one here seems to have a fucking clue what went down, I’m going straight to the source.”
“Are you even hearing yourself?” Mikhael butts in again. “You want to know who’s responsible for this? How about you take a look in the fucking mirror, cuz?”
My jaw tightens. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb.” He closes the space between us, close enough that I can smell tobacco on his breath. “You’re not acting as a leader. Hell, you’re not even acting as a halfway decent stand-in. You’re too busy playing house with your shiny new toy.”
My breath halts. “Say that again.”
“I’ll say it however many times you need to hear it.” He throws his hands up. “You’re thinking with your dick, man. Fucking pussy-whipped, if you ask me.”
I don’t tell him that no one fucking asked. Until now, I’ve been playing nice with Mikhael out of familial loyalty. He’smy late uncle Grigoriy’s son—the former heir apparent. In his shoes, I would have been tempted to throw my shit at the wall, too. It’s the only reason I haven’t put a bullet in his brain for his insolence yet.
Now, the well of my patience is running dry.
Mikhael takes my silence the wrong way. His lip curls into an ugly sneer. “Admit it. You’re losing your edge. Everyone sees it. They’re just too scared to call it.”
“Is that what you think?” I say. “That I’m not focused enough?”
“I know you aren’t,” he spits. “You’re in your goddamn honeymoon phase. Wining and dining that bitch of a wife instead of keeping your eye on?—”
Before I know it, I’ve got his lapels in my fists. “Donot,” I snarl, “call her that.”
A flash of fear darts through his eyes. But he recovers quickly, replacing it with arrogance. “Or what? You’ll put another one of us in the grave?”
“That’s up to you,” I growl against his face.
Every instinct is screaming at me to throw my cousin against the wall. Punch his teeth in, remind him what happens to anyone who crosses the line with me, family or not.
But the rational part of me is whispering,He’s right.
I did take my eye off the ball. I spent the day pampering Sima, taking her shopping, wining and dining her at the most expensive restaurant in the city. I’ve been treating our marriage like it’s real, but it’s not.
It’s a means to an end. Nothing less, nothing more.
And I need to nail that to my goddamn skull.
She is not mine. She is not real. She is nothing but leverage against my enemies.
And when the time comes, I will use her to ruin her own family.
I press Mikhael’s back into the wall. Whether he’s right about this isn’t the point here. I’ll be damned if I let this snotty brat disrespect me in front of my own inner circle, family or not.
“You want to challenge me, Mikh? Go right ahead. But do it with steel, like a goddamn man. Because if all you’ve got for me is words, it’ll be over before the first one leaves your fucking lips.”
Mikhail’s throat works. The bravado is already bleeding out of him. “You don’t want a war with me.”
“No,youdon’t want a war withme.” I crush him harder against the wall. His hands are trying to claw at mine, but he’s not strong as I am. He didn’t train his whole life to be thepakhan’s muscle. I did. “Because you’re right: I will put another one of us in the grave, if that’s what it takes to secure my father’s legacy. Now, tell me you understand.”
His lips press into a stubborn line.
“Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” he mutters finally.
Only then do I let him go.
He drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He doesn’t land gracefully. His leg twists under him, and he yelps. “Ow! You fucking?—”
