He’s halfway back when the first gunshot cracks through the air. I leap into the passenger seat just as he skids to a stop, and slam the door behind me.
“Seatbelt!” he barks.
The tires scream as we peel out. Another shot rings out behind us, but it’s too late. We’re gone.
I don’t breathe until we hit the main road.
“That seemed way too easy,” I say, still watching the rearview mirror. “Where did they come from? Where were their cars?”
“Don’t question it. Just accept the gift.”
He’s white-knuckling the wheel. I try to breathe through the adrenaline, but it’s not working. The veil’s off, the dress is gone, and all that’s left is the girl who still knows how to run.
A few minutes pass before I realize we’re not heading back toward home.
“Where are we going?”
Sean glances at me, then back to the road. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say without thinking, because I do.
“Good.” He exhales slowly. “Remember that, because we’re about to do some real questionable shit.”
Chapter 10
Nik
I throw my beat-up Wrangler into park outside the house of my past. The thing looks like a junkyard relic parked outside the sprawling mansion in front of me. Money can’t buy happiness, but it does buy comfort. Security. Power.
Shame it’s all blood money.
Before I can change my mind, I hop out and jog up the steps. Cameras track me. Motion sensors blink. My father doesn’t do surprises. I’m sure he knew I was here the moment I hit the front gate.
I let myself in without knocking. The air inside is colder than the marble floors. The place smells like tobacco and the scent of old leather clings to everything. Classical music drifts from somewhere deeper in the house, pulling me forward like a thread.
I used to think my family was blessed. Now, I know better. We’re all damned. Dancing with the Devil himself.
I’m back, not as my father’s son, but as his soldier. And I’m about to cash in a debt owed.
I find him in the sunroom, fingers gliding across the baby grand, eyes closed. He doesn’t need to see to sense everything. Sunlight glares off a pristine crystal chess set. The board’s untouched, just for show. This house is more like a museum than a home.
Dad’s still broad-shouldered, wearing a crisp button-down with the sleeves casually rolled twice. His slicked-backhair is still mostly blonde, streaked with white. The silver ring on his hand gleams as he plays.Bratva-bred, blood kept.
Even now, he’s the most dangerous man in any room—and he knows it.
The music ends, and he lifts his whiskey glass in greeting. It’s ten a.m., but I guess time doesn’t matter when you’re the boss.
“Kolya,” he says. His blue eyes mirror mine.
I force a tight nod. “Dad.”
“Who or what can I thank for your visit? You don’t call. Don’t write. You only come when there’s blood in the water. Your mother misses you.”
I resist rolling my eyes. Guilt doesn’t work on me anymore. I left this life for a reason. I’m not here for nostalgia.
He pauses. “This is about the girl. Carolina, yes?”
The flinch is involuntary. He notices.
