It was then I learned how ugly this life can be. How it can destroy the innocent, and how the monsters responsible just wash the blood off their hands and never pay the price.
Abram deals me in, and tense silence settles over the room. I ignore my cards and watch Evelina instead. She purposefully avoids acknowledging me, her jaw tight like she’s unhappy about something.
“How was your trip, Father? Productive?”
“Productive enough.” His stare slides to Evelina, then back to me. “I’m surprised you have time for poker, Kirill. I thought you’d be focused on more pressing matters.”
I grit my teeth. “Thirteen days left. Plenty of time.”
“Confidence is admirable. Overconfidence gets you killed.” His smile is hollow. “It’s not just your future hanging in the balance.”
How could I forget? Katya. The arranged marriage. The consequences if I fail.
“Bit early for that conversation, isn’t it?”
“And what have you accomplished while I was gone?” He turns to Abram. “The younger generation doesn’t understand war. Always hiding behind computers and digital smoke screens. You’ll learn soon enough that some problems require a more direct approach.”
The insult lands as designed. He’s calling me soft, saying I don’t have the stomach for the violence that built this empire. When the Ghost situation finally demands blood, I won’t be able to deliver.
I’m not filling him in on the failed pier mission. It was bloody all right, but it wasn’t a success.
When I don’t answer, he turns to Evelina, a smooth, easy smile sliding into place. The mask he wears to lay on the charm.
He lifts his now-empty glass. “Evelina, we could use a refresh.”
“Of course,” she says, her professional smile firmly in place. He watches her pour, his attention lingering in a way that makes my trigger finger itchy.
“Your bet, Kirill.” Yuri gestures to the pot.
I toss chips into the pot without checking my cards, attention on Evelina and the weird energy swirling around the room.
Play continues. Cards snap against felt. Chips click. Vodka gets poured. I play recklessly, betting high on garbage hands, going all-in on nothing just to watch my father’s mouth press into a thin line every time I drag the pot toward me.
Evelina moves to the bar cart for clean glassware, and I use the distraction to push back from the table. “Need to take a piss. Deal me out this hand.”
I follow her to the small service alcove outside the suite. It’s barely more than a hallway with a sink and a supply shelf. She’s washing up when I step inside. She doesn’t turn around, but her shoulders stiffen.
“You’re not subtle,” she says quietly. “What are you doing up here?”
I’m close enough that the heat of her back touches my chest.
“Because my father asked for you tonight. And when Ruslan Baronov is interested in a woman who works for him, she doesn’t feel like she has the option to say no.”
She sets the glass down and turns to face me. This close, I can see the slight tremble in her lower lip before she bites it down.
“He’s been fine. Nothing’s happened.” But there’s something off in the way she can’t look at me.
I brace one hand on the counter beside her hip, caging her in. “That’s why I’m here. You’re never going to be alone with him again. Or any of his friends. If they want you in a room, I’m in that room. If they ask for you specifically, the answer is you’re busy working for me. Understand?”
Her breath catches. “Kirill, he’ll know there’s something between us.”
“I don’t give a shit what he knows.” My hand slides to her waist, possessive. “You’re mine, Evelina. Which means I’m the one watching your back now.”
Her eyes search mine, something vulnerable breaking through. “I understand.”
I lean in closer, my voice rough. “And for the record, I know you can handle yourself. Doesn’t mean you should have to.”
Footsteps click in the main room and we break apart. She grabs the tray and heads back inside without another word. I follow moments later.
