I’d taste some cupcakes, stare at her while she rambled on about whatever it is bakers take in lengths about. A moment where the world felt normal enough for me to pretend it could be.
I walk into my kitchen expecting Sienna and the millions of thoughts about having her again along my countertop. Her soft moans are something Istillhear in my head, and I don’t want or expect those to go away any time soon.
I’m ready to let myself be distracted for twenty minutes or for however long Sienna needs me.
Instead, I find my fucking brother on my counter, like he’s always been a fixture in my home.
He swings his legs, a cheap blade playing between two fingers. He looks at me like he’s amused I’m surprised to see him. The men who let him in stand still, polite as hitmen waiting on orders.
That should have been my first hint.
The way none of them stiffened. My men are not allowed to admit defeat. Not in front of me.
Not like this.
“Evening, brother,” Nikolai says. His grin is all teeth, all mockery, and I’m going to knock every single one of them out. “Heard you were looking for me.”
I don’t move.
A pressured coldness sets in under my sternum. For a second, I imagine tackling him across the marble, hands at his throat and his blade in his neck.
But he’s not worth the theatrics.
Or the clean-up.
Plus, I don’t want Sienna walking into a bloody kitchen.
Since when do you care who the hell sees where you lay blood?
“Out,” I say quietly, making him laugh.
“Out where, Benedikt? The street? You think I’m really going to leave the empire father built? You should sit down. This might take a minute.”
This motherfucker…
I’d speak, but it’d fall on deaf ears. I’d warn him again, but he’s not going to listen.
Then there are some of my men in this room who won’t look at me.
That’s red flag number one.
And that’s their death sentence.
“Game’s over,” Nikolai conveys evenly. “I’d say it’d come as a shock to you, but I think we all knew how it’d end.”
I quirk a brow. “End?”
“With me at the head. The face. The heir, Benedikt, of the Volkov empire.”
Anger flares hot and fast through my veins, but I keep my face calm.
Fury is something I save for the right moments.
Uncontrolled anger is a weakness.
It’s why I’m still here, and he was rotting in a jail cell. For seven years, I carried that through every negotiation, every shipment, and every threat. I won by not letting my face betray me.
Now, daddy dearest wants to hand over his legacy to this stupid fuck after everything I’ve done for this family.
