“You nevervisitunless it’s for a reason.”
“Never is dramatic. Even for you.”
“Khvatit nesti khuynyu.”Stop spouting bullshit.“Why are you here?”
He leans back like he’s settling in, but his eyes turn calculating. That look tells me everything I need to know before the next few words leave his mouth.
“I found something. On Fiona.”
The words slam through me. “So, are you going to tell me, or do you need an invitation?”
“Check your email.”
“You couldn’t just call?”
“And give up seeing the look on your face when you realize you missed this?” He straightens his back. “What kind of brother would I be?”
“A dead one if you keep talking.”
He chuckles while my fingers fly across the keys until I find his email with multiple attachments.
The first few are familiar—surveillance stills, faces I recognize.
The Volkovs. Our enemies. The family who’s been playing the long game, waiting for us to slip so they can rule instead.
They don’t want war. Not yet. They know we would burn them alive.
Konstantin keeps saying it’s not time. That patience is strategy. But I have never been patient. I want their blood, want to carve them down to the bone and leave their tiny empire in ruin.
Then I open the next file with photos, and everything inside me locks as I read through what Kirill found.
“What the hell is this?”
“I was just as surprised as you.”
How could I have missed this? But it all makes sense now.
“Does Konstantin know?”
“Not yet.”
“Slovichy!” My fist pounds on the desk, pens rattling across the mahogany. “Ya ikh vsekh ub’yu!”Bastards! I’m going to kill them all!
My jaw grinds as I flip from picture to picture.
This changes everything. They want her. And they think I’d ever allow this? That they have a chance?
Never. They don’t know who they’re dealing with.
The Volkovs think they’re going to be kings. But I was born to be something worse.
It’s in my blood, this need to dominate, to crush, to be the best. Our father made sure of it. He didn’t raise sons. He forged weapons. Failure wasn’t punished; it was erased.
And love? Love was weakness. Love was leverage. Love was a lie.
Power. That was the prize.
And I intend to take it. Starting with her.
