Adrik tried to push words out, his voice raw and desperate. “No! You’ll do it without me. I won’t be there to see you murder Sergei!”That was it—a blatant refusal. He wasn’t backing down.
Viktor’s eyes narrowed, but he finally let go of Adrik’s collar, shoving him harder against the wall one last time. Adrik staggered, hacking and coughing, his throat on fire.
“Betrayal will reap fatal consequences.” Viktor scowled in disgust, then shoved a folded note into Adrik’s pocket.
Adrik pulled the note out, scanning the scrawled time and location. The paper felt flimsy and wrong. He crumpled it up instantly and tossed it onto the floor. “Asking me to watch you torture Sergei is wrong, and it will not happen. You knew that before you even ordered me to take part.” The crumpled paper lay there, a symbol of his refusal.
“Why the hell is Sergei so important to you? Your brother thinks you’re lovers.”
“He’s a damn liar, and you know that! Is Burian your source who fed you false FBI evidence?” Adrik shot back.
Viktor shouted over Adrik’s question. “Does Sergei mean more to you than I do?”
“No! You’re my father or supposed to be.”
“He betrayed the Marinovs. Your name is Adrik Marinov!”
“I know my name,” he paused. “This nonsense about Sergei is just another ploy of Burian to discredit and harm me.”
“So, Sergeiismore important to you than I am?”
Adrik shook his head, shouting back, “Don’t turn my friendship with Sergei into something it’s not!” Adrik’s anger and resentment towards his brother, Burian, had been simmering for years; he had every reason to hate him. Burian, had spent years digging for evidence of a romance between Adrik and Sergei. When he couldn’t find anything, he just started accusing Adrik of being gay.
Viktor’s hand cracked across Adrik’s face, the sting sharp and hot, blooming across his cheek. His head snapped to the side, jaw aching, skin burning like it had been branded.
“Get out!” Viktor barked, already turning his back. He dropped into the chair behind his desk, lit a cigar, and blew smoke into the air, eyes locked on Adrik with a glare that cut deeper than the slap.
Adrik froze against the wall, muscles locked tight. The pain throbbed, but worse was the humiliation—the way Viktor dismissed him like he was nothing. His chest felt hollow; his breath caught somewhere between rage and disbelief. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, just stood there stunned, cheek still pulsing with the reminder of Viktor’s hand.
“If you don’t show up tonight, you’re dead to me.”
Those words cut deeper than the choke and the slap combined. Adrik’s legs were shaking, and his chest was heaving, trying to catch up on lost air. Sergei’s face flashed in his mind—calm, patient, the man who had taught him how to actually think, not just read books. And now Viktor wanted him to toss that aside and betray Sergei.
Adrik stared at the crumpled note on the floor, then kicked it across the room. Whatever came next, one thing was absolutely certain: he wasn’t going to Sergei’s apartment. He wasn’t ringing that bell.
“Get the fuck out of my office now!” Viktor roared as he stood again.
Adrik backed out of his father’s office, keeping his eyes locked on the gun on his desk. He didn’t trust his father not to reach for it just to make a point. He didn’t trust Viktor with anything anymore, especially not with his life.
Adrik rounded the corner in the hall, breathing hard, and slammed straight into Burian. His older brother’s face immediately tightened into a familiar, sour expression.
“What did he want?” Burian asked, his eyes sharp and probing.
“To take out Sergei and make me watch,” Adrik spat out.
“And?”
“And I’m not going. He’s been my tutor and security guard since I was ten.”
The color instantly drained from Burian’s face. “He’s summoned me too. I’ll watch because you can’t.”
Adrik laughed—a sharp, almost hysterical sound. “Of course you will. You’ve always wanted to be his perfect little soldier.”
“And you fucking never wanted that, but he chose you over me.” Burian spewed his hate and anger at Adrik.
“Do you honestly think you could stomach watching the boss and his goons butcher Sergei piece by piece?”
“I can and I will replace you. I’m the oldest; I should have been his right hand, not you.”
