Page 93 of Inked in Devotion

“He’s a psychopath,” Kolya said.

“And you’re not?” my brother shot back. “There are different levels of sociopaths. How many people have you killed, Petrov? Hundreds, right?”

“I’m a soldier for the bratva, it’s a job, not a craving I can’t resist.”

“Tell me, if spilling blood wasn’t part of your job description, would you crave it?”

“Fuck you, King. I’m not standing here to be psychoanalyzed.”

The triumphant smile across my brother’s face seemed to say he’d won this round.

“I agree. Putting you in a room with Jeremiah is a bad idea.” I had to make my position clear on this. I didn’t regret shooting Jeremiah. But there was a madness in his eyes. He was sick.

“But I want you to get your answers,” Kolya said.

“I don’t want to think about it right now,” I said. “Is Jeremiah on any medication?”

“Some,” Theo said. “It’s keeping him calm.”

“Sedated,” I murmured. “So we really don’t know if the bullet in his head affected his personality.”

Theo just stared at me. I rolled my lips. I wasn’t sure what else to say. Wait…

They got to you, didn’t they?

I gasped, and my eyes flew to Theo.

What if Theo and Marena were working together?

But to what end?

“Did Marena report anything to you?” I asked.

Theo frowned. “I received reports, but there was nothing alarming in them. Why?”

I nearly reached out to touch Kolya. I needed to hold his hand. Now, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to remain here overnight.

At my silence, realization etched on Theo’s face. “You’re not telling me something.”

“Is there something I should be telling you?”

“What’s going on?” Kolya asked, his tone lethal.

“What else did Jerry tell you?” Theo stepped closer.

“That’s as far as you go, King,” Kolya spat.

“Chloe…” Theo gritted. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Huh,” Kolya said. “Marena was reporting to you.”

“She wasn’t reporting to me. I received reports. Big difference. I’m Sebastian’s legal guardian.”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away with the blame,” I said. “Clearly, I don’t understand Jeremiah’s state of mind.”

“Did he blame me?” Theo asked. Either my brother was an excellent actor, or the broken, betrayed expression on his face absolved him of subterfuge.

“No. He just said…”