My hand keeps stroking Apollo’s mane. The cleanup had been efficient—Grandfather’s men made sure of that. Robert Grey was a bastard. A scum. He deserved far worse than what I gave him. And yet, the kill hadn’t satisfied me.
“You killed him brutally, Alex,” Maksim drawls, folding his arms. “Almost messy. You’re never messy.”
I know.
“I don’t care, dear brother,” I say flatly, my voice deliberate and slow. “Either say something useful or get the fuck out.”
He laughs. Maksim always laughs too easily. He’s all restless energy—fast hands, fast words. Too much charm, too many talents. A fighter, a tech genius, an artist, a fucking jack-of-all-trades. Twenty-two and already better at most things than anyone else.
“Brutal, no remorse,” he clicks his tongue. “Just how Father raised us.” He pauses, smirking. “Though, in case you didn’t notice, I followed you yesterday and watched you from the shadows as you beat that bastard half to death. You were… captivating.” His eyes glint. “Almost made me proud to be your brother.”
I glance at him, unimpressed. “Maksim. Out.”
But he only grins wider, leaning off the stall. “Nah. You might want to hear what I found.”
I don’t respond.
“Picture this,” he says, pacing across the barn floor, boots crunching against hay. “Dark alley. You, doing your usual routine, beating the life out of some bastard. And then—oh, what’s this? A witness?”
My shoulders tighten.
His eyes light up like he’s struck gold. “I knew it.”
I keep my silence, dragging the brush down Apollo’s flank.
“So?” Maksim tilts his head, studying me. “What did you do to him?”
I grunt, refusing to look at him.
“No answer? Wow, okay.” He smirks. “Now I’m even more curious. You didn’t kill him.” He pauses deliberately. “He’s alive and well. Pouring coffee in some book café like a cottage core fantasy or some shit like that.”
Silence stretches.
The smirk fades from his mouth, just a little. “Huh.” His tone shifts, softer. “You never let anyone go.”
No. I never had. Until him.
I move to grab another brush, keep my expression neutral, though I can feel his stare pressing into me.
Maksim sighs dramatically, clapping his hands. “Welp. Guess I’ll have to take care of him myself.”
That makes me turn.
He meets my gaze, all fake innocence, “Should I get rid of him?”
In two strides, I’ve got him by the jacket, slamming him against the stall hard enough that the wood groans. Apollo jerks and neighs, but I barely register it. My vision narrows, heat in my chest, I don’t understand.
“Don’t. Touch. Him.” My voice comes out low, lethal. I don’t even know where it comes from, only that his words lit something violent and possessive in me.
Maksim’s eyes widen for half a second, then that damn grin slides back into place. “Wow. That was fast.”
I shove him harder, jaw clenched. “I’m not joking.”
“I know,” he says, laughing breathlessly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Jesus, Sasha. I’ve seen you kill men for less, and here you are, about to snap my spine over some boy?”
My teeth grind. My breath saws through my chest.
Maksim studies me for a beat, then lets out a low whistle. “Damn. This is new.”
