The heavy iron door slammed open with a clang.
Didn't need to turn around. I knew that shuffle—a limp from three years back in Kiev, souvenir from taking a bullet meant for me.
"Look at this asshole," Kostya's voice scraped through the empty gym like sandpaper. "Sun's not even up, and you're already losing your shit. Who pissed you off this time? The old man?"
I didn't stop. Slammed my fist dead center into the bag. The whole frame groaned. "Kostya, if you're here to run your mouth, get the fuck out. If you're here to get your ass kicked, glove up."
He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Limped over to the other side, yanked a pair of red gloves from his bag—his old Cleaner gear.
"Sure thing, Pakhan." He dragged out the title mockingly, wrapping his hands slow and deliberate. "Let's see just how pissed off you really are."
We touched gloves. Ritual over.
Fight on.
Kostya might've had a bum leg, but he'd been one of the family's deadliest killers. His defense was solid as stone. I came at him hard, every punch meant to twist his head clean off.
"You're hitting thirty percent harder than last week," Kostya muttered through his guard, words slurred around his crooked mouth. "The old man shove another woman at you? Or did Derek piss you off again?"
I threw a vicious left hook that grazed his ear, the wind alone stinging his cheek. "Shut up and focus on blocking."
"Touched a nerve?" He dodged my straight punch, eyes glinting with mischief. "Guess I nailed it. Old man pressures you to marry, so you trash someone's gambling joint. Classic Nikolai. Violence over conversation. Every damn time."
"Conversation?" I sneered, hammering my fist into his arm guard with a dull thud. "With a corpse who only speaks money and leverage? That's a waste of time."
"Maybe." Kostya panted, then suddenly ducked low and sent an uppercut straight for my chin.
I tilted my head, dodged it, caught his wrist, twisted hard, and slammed him against the ropes. They bounced and squeaked under the pressure.
"But you've been off lately." Kostya's face pressed into the ropes, voice muffled. "Sasha said you had someone dig up info on a woman. Met her on a plane? That's not like you. Who is she? Worth using the core intelligence network for?"
I stared into his bloodshot eyes and pressed down harder.
"Nobody important." My voice was ice. I let him go. "Some hothead little writer. Mildlyentertaining."
"A writer?" Kostya adjusted his mouthguard, eyes studying me. "What kind of writer gets your attention—you, the guy who sleeps with one eye open? Some romance-novel princess?"
"The kind of lunatic who screams her head off at an airport wearing a pink dick headband." I corrected him, tone edged with something I didn't quite recognize. Mockery, maybe.
Kostya froze. Then burst out laughing, doubled over clutching his ribs. "A dick headband? Ha ha ha! Nikolai, you've got fucking taste! And you ran a background check on her? Don't tell me you want to—"
"Add her to my kill list?" I cut him off, eyes sharp as blades. "Don't be ridiculous. I just hate noise on my flights."
"Right, right." Kostya raised his gloves in surrender, but the grin stayed. "But seriously, if you think she's interesting, keep her around. At least it'll shut those idiots up. I don't want to be cleaning up your messes when you're old and—"
"Enough!" I roared and charged.
This time, no technique. No training. Pure survival instinct. I poured everything into my fists—my hatred for the old man, my contempt for Derek, and that bizarre itch those green eyes left under my skin.
Kostya stopped holding back. Two men tearing into each other like animals. Fists connecting with flesh, sweat flying.
Finally, Kostya landed one on my ribs. I blocked most of it but still staggered back two steps. Before I could counter, he panted and waved me off. "Stop! Stop! I'm done. You psycho, you're actually trying to kill me."
I stopped, chest heaving, sweat dripping off my chin onto the floor. The fire still burned. But my knuckles throbbed from the assault. Not enough. Nowhere near enough.
That's when the satellite phone in my bag buzzed. Sasha.
I walked over and picked up, didn't even bother wiping my face.
