I know I tend to hope a lot, but I shouldn’t have, because the reality is that Vaughn is straight. He’s only ever beenstraightand with girls.
My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket, distracted.
Cyrus.
Fuck. He’ll just say, “I told you so.”
I decline the call, my gaze fixed on Vaughn kissing the girl. She’s lost in it, her eyes shut as she presses closer. His hand knots in her hair, but his own eyes are heavy-lidded—not fully closed, just…distant.
Or maybe that’s what I hope.
My phone vibrates again, and I’m about to ignore it, but it’s a text.
Cyrus
Come back, Yulian. Your mom passed away, and Alina’s been in an accident.
My world crashes down around me as I read the text, then stare at Vaughn kissing his girl.
All my feelings of fondness shatter and transform into something more potent, deep, and dangerous.
My obsession with Vaughn has led me to more pain than I can afford, and I hate him for it.
33
VAUGHN
Dad said he won’t be sending men to the Dimitriev estate in Chicago.
He clearly stated that he won’t allow me to start a war to save Yulian.
ButI amstarting that war. I don’t care how many wars I have to take part in just to get Yulian out of his father’s claws.
But Dad, as the Pakhan, told me that our resources won’t be used for war so as not to risk countless deaths on both sides.
Instead, he offered to go himself on a covert rescue mission. Mom said she’s going, too, despite my and Dad’s objections.
“Nonsense, you need a sniper.” She stroked Dad’s stubble. “I’m the best, remember?”
Dad grumbled some more, not wanting her in the middle of this, but then conceded, mostly because he didn’t have a choice.
So here we are, my parents and I, along with two enforcers who were apparently in the same unit as my parents in their army days, plus Viktor—Dad’s right hand and my aunt’s husband.
Despite our intel, accessing the Dimitriev mansion is impossible without raising some alarms. If we’re discovered, Yaroslav will have us killed in a heartbeat, which is why Cyrus came along.
He helped us with access, freezing security measures and allowing us to infiltrate the mansion unnoticed.
My dad asked if I could trust Cyrus with our lives—including Mom’s, who’s keeping guard outside. The truth is, I can’t. Cyrus is a snake, his loyalties slippery at best. His ties to the Russian mafia are murky, even if he did help the Chicago Bratva expand. Every move he makes feels too smooth and calculated. And I can’t stand that he’s been Yulian’s shadow for four years, filling the space that should’ve been mine.
Yes, my irrational jealousy doesn’t help in making me warm up to the guy.
But there’s one thing I trust Cyrus with—his friendship with Yulian. He’s spent years protecting and shielding him from Yaroslav—no, I don’t like it, I should’ve been the one to do that—spending exponential time and resources to make sure he doesn’t end up killed.
Yulian said he’s Cyrus’s only friend. When everyone shunned and mocked and bullied Cyrus while growing up, Yulian was the only one who understood him.
So maybe that’s why I took my chances. Or due to the fact that I never see Cyrus with anyone but Yulian.
The reality is, even if Cyrus hates me, doesn’t approve of me, thinks I’m bad news for Yulian, he’d still want to rescue him.
