Page 9 of Ruined By Sin

Radimir's expression stays stone cold, but Yegor shifts in his seat and folds his arms. "I don't like it either, Roman, but they're right. The longer we wait, the worse it gets." Coming from Roman's two most trusted soldiers, it offers a vote of confidence to back his family and Morin's play.

My brother doesn't want to do this, but he's smart enough to understand if everyone in his inner circle sees the threat, he has to do something. "Fine," he says. "Timur, it's in your hands. You and Morin handle the Mirov problem however you see fit. But I want reports. I want to know every movebeforeit happens, not after. And if this goes sideways, it falls on both of you."

"Understood," I tell him, not downplaying the gravity of this situation one bit. And if my hunch is right, the girl will only increase the stress on my shoulders, but we can't exactly ignore her presence. Still, it's up to me to handle it and I think I just need more information before I decide how.

Morin's shoulders drop a fraction and he sits down so we can handle the rest of this meeting's agenda. His part is mostly done, but I know Ro isn't happy about the girl.

"Now, about the woman in your home," my brother grumbles, tapping the table a few times. "This is a problem..." His eyes flick to me and then to Morin.

"Sir, I?—"

"Morin was trying to get us a bit of leverage, Ro, and that backfired. But you can't blame him." I'm forever covering his ass like this and it's getting really fucking old, but it's what I have to do.

"I'm gonna press her and we'll find out what she knows. First and foremost, it can be a source of intel. If she knows nothing, we'll decide what to do then." I'm not confident about anything coming out of my mouth, but I'm positive if I show any hesitancy or weakness, my brother will try to take control of this.

Not only will he not look out for Morin, but he'll burden himself with things that I can handle on my own while he's supposed to be handling his own side of this business. It's a delicate dance I've played for years that isn't getting any easier as time passes. This time, I fear Morin has bitten off more than I can chew, though I know he didn't do that intentionally. He's just an idiot sometimes.

"I need to know what information you get out of her the instant it happens. Do you understand?" Roman is concerned about the livewire strung through our territory and I don't blame him. Any second, things could erupt, and due to the nature of this specific threat, we'd never see it coming.

"I've got this," I assure him again, then I nod at Morin.

Our work in this meeting is done and the sooner I get out of these doors, the sooner the elephant on my chest moves the fuck away from me. I rise, and Morin rises alongside me. Kazimir's scowl and Roman's fisted hand aren't encouraging signs, but I didn't get to be second in command around here by being impotent.

"I'll report back before the end of the day," I tell him as I start moving toward the door with Morin on my heels, and no one responds as we slip out.

"Did you see his face?" Morin scoffs then snickers like a foolish child.

I want to turn and pin him to the wall and let loose on him about what a shit situation he's put me in, but I keep my head down and grumble, "Yeah... Real funny."

"I'm telling you, Tim. We'll take out Mirov and the problem will be gone. Just let me handle it, buddy. I always take care of you. You deal with the girl... And if you can't, just send her my way. I'll make you look like a god."

Morin turns down the side hall toward the front entrance as I stand there watching him walk away. My car is parked out back, and I'm glad for it. Another second with him and I'd have lost my temper.

The absolute worst thing that could happen is this woman being nothing more than a civilian employee of Mirov's business. I'm not sure that's likely, given how calm she was when she came to. But if she is, we're fucked, and I'm gonna have to kill her myself.

And that's when Morin's debt that he dangles over my head daily is finally paid. I can't keep doing this.

6

KIRA

When Sonya came to me with a pair of black slacks and a sweater, and a fresh change of panties, I felt like someone was trying to manipulate me. But I have to admit after two days of wearing the same clothing, I felt like I was sitting in my own filth.

Now I feel fresher, though the clothes are slightly large and a bit baggy. And all of this is really confusing. I'm not being treated like a prisoner, true to Timur's word. But the twenty-four hours he promised me it would take have now stretched to more than thirty-six hours and I'm starting to get the feeling he's never going to let me go, no matter how nice he seems.

I'm just glad the gunman isn't around. He scares me, and I'd rather not see his face ever again. I'm finally starting to be able to close my eyes without seeing my cousin’s blood-covered face.

The room is starting to feel too small, and I'm not claustrophobic by any means, but I do feel trapped. It doesn't help that today was a gloomy, rainy day, so the natural light was minimal. Andstill the guard stood outside that window like a fucking gargoyle planted there just to scare me.

When someone knocks on the door, it startles me, and I turn thinking maybe this time, it'll be Timur and he will give me some sort of update about when I can go home.

But the door swings open to reveal a new guard I've never seen before. He clears his throat and says, "Ms... Uh, er... Kira—" His head dips and he gestures behind himself. "Mr. Kuzin would like you to join him for dinner, please."

I pause for a moment, not sure how to take this dinner invitation. Sonya gave me donuts for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch. But the bread was dry and there was no mayo. It was barely edible, unlike the sandwich Timur left in here the other night, which I gladly devoured upon waking up to pee around four a.m. My belly rumbles and I figure if he's inviting me, maybe it's my chance to talk to him and see what he's figured out.

So I follow the guard out the door and back up the hallway toward the living room. I see Timur seated on the other side of the island at a small dining table. He looks up as I approach and nods at his guard, then gestures across from himself.

"How's your head?" he asks, taking his seat again.