My fingers find my gun again before I even realize I'm reaching for it. The itch to pull the trigger is overwhelming, a burning need that crawls up my spine and settles in my chest like a living thing. But then I catch Iris's eyes across the table.
Daring me.
Warning me.
Don't you fucking dare.
God, I still want to shoot him. Just to remind her that she doesn't control me. That no one controls me. That I am what I am, and pretty kisses won't change that.
But I put the gun down. She snaps at both of us, anger flaring in her voice. "I don't know if I should slap the both of you or call the police for illegal firearms. You seem to forget I'm a fucking lawyer."
Jackson turns to her, his voice dropping low and urgent. "Why the fuck did you get close to this beast when I told you to stay the hell away from him?"
I lean forward, my eyes never leaving his face, letting him see exactly what I'm capable of. "Keep running that mouth, and I'll show you just how beastly I can be."
"I saidstop it." Iris steps between us, her small body doing nothing to block my line of sight but everything to hold me back. Her voice cuts through the tension like a blade. "Now tell me," she says, turning to Jackson, "how the fuck do you know him? And why the hell do you have a gun?"
Jackson looks at her like she's lost her damn mind, like she's a child playing with fire who doesn't understand she's about to get burned. "You don't even know who the fuck this is, do you?" He jabs a finger in my direction. "You've been hanging around him, staying at his fucking house, and you don't know?"
She folds her arms across her chest, stubborn as always. "Yeah. What's the big deal? I'm helping him with a case." That's when he snaps.
He slams his hand against the table so hard the plates jump, cake and silverware rattling with the force of his fury. "The fuck? I told you to stay away! Why the hell would you take his case?" He turns to me now, full of righteous rage that would be amusing if it wasn't so fucking annoying. "What did you do to her, huh? Brainwashed her? Threatened her into staying?"
I smile, coldly. "There's no need to brainwash someone who came willingly. And if I were you, I'd be very careful about how you speak to me right now. You're already breathing on borrowed time."
Iris looks between us, frowning, trying to piece together the puzzle without all the pieces. "What the hell is going on here? I know he's powerful. I know he's connected to the Bratva. But I don't know his exact position."
Jackson laughs, but there's nothing funny about the sound. It's hollow. Desperate. The laugh of a man watching someone walk blindly into a fire he can't stop.
"You really don't know?" He shakes his head, looking at her like she's the most naive woman alive. "This isn't some enforcer, Iris. Not some mid-level hitman you can handle with your fancy lawyer tricks." He points straight at me, his finger steady even as fear bleeds through his voice.
"This is the Pakhan." Iris blinks. "The... the what?" Jackson leans in closer to her, his voice Shakey and filled with terror. "The fucking king. The top of the Bratva food chain. The man who answers to no one. That's who you've been living with. That's who you've beenfucking."
I lean back slowly, watching her reaction with careful interest, watching him even closer. My fingers still itch for the trigger. Let him twitch wrong. Let him give me one single reason. I'm done playing nice. Iris sits beside me, her body rigid with tension, eyes darting between us trying to solve an equation that keeps changing. Then she looks straight at me, her gaze piercing through all the walls I've built.
"Is that true?" she asks, her voice lower now, stripped of its earlier defensiveness. I don't look away. "I thought you would've guessed by now, kotyonok. With everything you've seen these past few days."
She blinks slowly, letting the information settle into her bones like the weight of a verdict. "It's... a bit of a shock," she admits. Then she turns back to Jackson, and I feel something dangerous coil tight in my chest when she adds, "But I still don't think taking his case would cause any problems."
"She's so fucking dense," Jackson mutters under his breath, and then he does the one thing he absolutely should not do.
He grabs her hand. "Iris." I call calmly. "Get away from him." She doesn't move. "Move behind me," I say again, louder this time, the command unmistakable. "Now."
She shakes her head, stubborn to the very end. "You're not going to shoot him. You wouldn't."
I tilt my head, dark amusement flickering across my face. "You think I'm bluffing?" She opens her mouth to respond. I pull the trigger.
The shot rings out, echoing off the walls of the cafe like a thunderclap. Jackson screams, clutching his shoulder as blood pours between his fingers, his body staggering backward from the impact. His eyes go wide with shock and pain, disbelief written across every line of his face.
Iris gasps beside me, frozen in place, her face draining of color.
I stand slowly, the gun still warm in my hand, and look around the cafe. Every single person is staring at us. Some have their phones out, probably recording. Others are already halfway to the door, desperate to escape. I raise my voice, letting it carry to every corner of the room.
"Anyone who saw anything here today—anyone who speaks to the police, anyone who eventhinksabout posting this online—will join him." I gesture to Jackson, bleeding on the floor like the wounded animal he is. "Or worse. You have five seconds to delete whatever you recorded. Starting now." The cafe erupts into frantic movement as phones are dropped, or smashed against tables. People scramble for the exits, tripping over each other in their desperation to get away. Within seconds, the place is nearly empty. I turn back to Iris staring at me, tears streaming down her face, and the sight of them does makes me halt, I never wanted to make her cry, I begin to panic.
"Are you happy now?" she chokes out, her voice breaking. "Are you happy? You shot him. You threatened everyone. You threatenedme. Is this what you find funny? Is thisfunfor you?"
I step toward her, reaching out. She shoves me back, hard, both hands flat against my chest. "Don't touch me." Then she grabs her bag and runs out of the cafe without looking back.
