Chapter 20
Ivan
To Us
In the hushed confines of the drawing room, I waited for Nik to get home from the office and for Alek to come from wherever the fuck he was off to. No doubt it involved Kinsley Taylor.
Everything he did these days seemed to revolve around her, except he hadn’t found out anything to help us with her case. My fingers instinctively gravitated toward the leather-clad hilt at my side. With a smooth, practiced motion, I drew the blade from its snug sheath. It gleamed in the light as I turned it, marveling at its edges.
As the minutes stretched, I idly ran my fingers over the cold steel of the blade in my hand, meticulously inspecting its dual edges. The weight of the weapon grounded me. Soothed me. Excited me.
The lives I’d mercilessly taken with it might as well be engraved on the damn thing. I recited them in my head, the last one being Anton’s. Thinking back on the kill had me smiling. They all started and ended the same.
I called it the five stages of torture, and Anton’s was no different. The first stage comprised of them whining like a bitch, which led to stage two—denials left and right. It was the denial stage Nik loved most. He was always prepared with facts to debunk them.
The third stage led to my favorite part—the begging. Being the midway point, it was my cue. Pleading for their lives was something every last one of them did, too. I liked to remind them of their victims while they did so, and how ironic it was that they were then in the same position.
The fourth stage, bargaining, signaled the end. It was when they realized death was coming for them. Stage five was where the truth came out. However, unlike the saying “the truth shall set you free,”
death was the only freedom they received.
Each time I used the weapon in my hand, it was with a clear conscience, and the knowledge that one less evil person walked the earth was cathartic for me.
My thoughts had me analyzing the past few days. I’d dug into the background of the girl I’d been assigned, and she was quickly eliminated, along with the girl Nik was looking into. Which left us with Kinsley Taylor and the task of locating the Russian who hired Anton in the first place. Since Alek was taking his sweet time, the job had been given to me.
The single thing the girls had in common was dance, so using that information, I’d chased several leads. Everything from brightly lit dance studios to smoke-filled bars, I flashed pictures of the tattoos Anton told us about in the hopes that someone might have seen him lurking around.
One lead, in particular, seemed promising, but after we’d picked up the man and realized he wasn’t our guy, I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. That was two nights ago.
Just as I sheathed my blade into the hilt again, Nik breezed in. He must have come from the shower because beads of water dripped from the ends of his hair. His eyes landed on the decanter and three empty glasses on the table.
Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Something you need to talk about?”
He was referring to the almost ten-thousand-dollar bottle of vodka sitting there waiting to be poured.
“It arrived earlier today. I swear, Marcel and his impeccable timing. That man can sense my need for escape almost as good as Vanya used to. Remember when…”
I let my voice trail off, not having the mental capacity to discuss her this evening.
“Never mind. We’ll have to wait for Alek.”
I waved at the bottle on the table. “It was sent addressed to the three of us, and technically, it’s from Marcel and Bash.”
Sebastian Caruso and Andrew Marcel were our brothers, not bound by blood, but by an unbreakable bond forged through some serious shit. Bash’s family and ours dated back to before we were even born—our mothers had been best friends.
The shared experiences of growing up with him, our youthful innocence giving way to the weight of responsibility as we became a crew seeking justice, solidified his presence in our lives.
Marcel had been seamlessly integrated into our brotherhood when I was twelve. His unwavering loyalty, courage, and sound advice could only be matched by his constant support and uncanny understanding of each of our differently wired brains.
Nik joined me and reached for the decanter to inspect it. “Leave it to them to send one of the most expensive brands of vodka in the world. And you’re right, the timing is perfect. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the anniversary of that fateful night.”
I broke into a wide grin and shook my head as memories flooded my mind. A nostalgic warmth spread through me. “That’s right. God, we got so drunk that night. Poor Gran didn’t know what to do with us.”
“Right. And Marcel kept telling her over and over how it was for a good cause, but then couldn’t remember what exactly that was,”
Nik said, shaking his head.
Alek walked in at that point and strode over. His demeanor was upbeat and, dare I use the word, relaxed for the first time in a while. Plopping down on the couch, he took in the scene.
“From the Imperial Collection. I thought we agreed years ago that this was reserved for teaching lessons on Russian drinking rules and etiquette.”
“Yes, well. I think it’s Bash and Marcel’s way of saying it’s time to come home.”
I poured their shots and then nodded at Alek. “Might as well abide by the rules, at least with this bottle.”
He poured me one, following the number one rule: never pour your own shot.
“Za nas,”
I toasted. To us.
No break between shots—another rule—had us doing a second round. Alek raised his glass, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “To brotherhood.”
We talked for a while about an upcoming situation we were going to have to deal with soon. Nik had informed us of the early release of someone who needed a field trip to Graham’s farm. Despite this topic of conversation, Alek seemed like he was on cloud nine.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?”
I shook my head at him, trying to hold back the grin on my face.
I could only hope my guess was right. My big brother needed to get his head back in the game. And if fucking her was the cure, then by all means, he needed to get it over with already. This back-and-forth dance he was engaging in was counterproductive to what we were supposed to be doing—solving a missing person’s case.
“Nah, he would have told me about it.”
Nik smirked. “But he must have gotten something he wanted from her. Did she invite you inside…her house? Yeah, don’t think we don’t know you’ve been to her place more times than necessary.”
“Well, did you?”
I asked once more.
“No, I didn’t fuck her, asshole. But she did agree to go out with me.”
Nik raised his glass. “To the Reaper, the master of manipula—excuse me, persuasion.”
“Laugh all you want, but she’s buckling, which means the gala event is in play. Both of you need to get your bags packed. It’s going to be one hell of a weekend,”
Alek said.
As I studied him, I could see an underlying hint of unease. Somewhere along the way, this girl had become a straight-up distraction. And he was all over the place. But the thing that ate at me most was that he was holding back on us, which was against all the rules we had in place. No way was I going to let it go.
Calling him on his bullshit, I bellowed, “No way she agreed to spend the entire weekend with you, Reaper. Your usual charm has gotten you nowhere with her.”
He shrugged like he couldn’t care less, which I knew to be a fucking lie. He cared. His ego had taken hit after hit as he chased, and she rejected his every advance. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what angle he was playing. I couldn’t immediately tell. That was Nik’s job—or Bash’s. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t poke at him a little. After all, that was what brothers were for.
“If you asked me, I’d say she isn’t into blonds, and that’s why she won’t give you the time of day. Women like men who are tall, dark”—I pointed at Nik and then at myself—“and handsome. You only got the tall gene, sorry.”
“It’s true.”
Nik nodded before adding, “The baby’s right about the other part too. You may have gotten her to agree to a date, but there is no way you told her it was a weekend getaway.”
“Shall we place a wager?”
I teased, talking directly to Nik.
“Let’s do it,”
he exclaimed.
Alek heaved. “Listen, you two. This is important. If we can sufficiently get her comfortable around us, she may be more willing to discuss her past. We’re not getting very far with the leads. Unless one of you has an update?”
Silence hung in the air as I shook my head and Nik remained quiet. Clearly, we had nothing to go on. I resigned myself to the knowledge that this weekend was going to be chaotic at best. The last time I saw the two of them together, Alek could barely control himself. He’d need us to babysit him. Fuck.
“What’s the plan, then?” I asked.
I held my glass out, signaling to Alek to pour me another. I had a feeling I was going to need it. He smiled, and determination crept into his expression.
“Well, you see…that’s where you come in, baby brother. And Crow, she finds me attractive. I’d even say irresistible, given the way she kissed me earlier like she was starving,”
Alek proclaimed, drawing a scoff from my throat.
“Let’s hear it,”
I breathed.
I leveled my eyes at him, wondering how much of the kiss he exaggerated. As I waited for him to continue, the cool liquid burned its way down my throat, adding more fire to the evening.
“I need you to use all that swagger you’ve got and persuade Kinsley’s best friend, Sarah, to join us for the weekend. Since she couldn’t keep her eyes off you that night at the club, it makes perfect sense.”
I raised an eyebrow, reveling in the power play. “Oh, Reaper. It sounds like you need a favor. But why should I make it easy for you? What’s in it for me?”
“Because, Blade, you fucking love me, we’re brothers, and you know our game nights are epic,”
Alek grumbled.
Watching his feeble attempts to downplay his obsession with Kinsley Taylor was comical. A wry smile played on my lips. I didn’t believe for one second that he wanted her to come this weekend because he thought she’d cave and talk to us. I could see right through him.
The fool didn’t realize that it was written all over his face—a mere mention of her, and his eyes would light up. I momentarily struggled with calling him out but decided to sit back and watch this drama play out. At the very least, it promised to be an amusing spectacle, given how the two of them were with one another at the club the other night.
I pretended to ponder for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine. I’ll ask Sarah to come along, but I’ve got conditions.”
Nik burst out in laughter, slapping his knee. “Making him work for it. I love it. I taught you well.”
“Are you going to tell me these conditions, or are you going to make me guess?”
Alek fumed.
“It’s an open-deck, no-couple-cards game night. I’m going to put my theory to the test. It’d be hilarious if she has a strict ‘black-hair-only’ policy when it comes to dating. I also get one open-ended favor to cash in at my discretion.”
Alek’s brows furrowed as I laid out my demands for asking Sarah to the event. Gone was his initial excitement, and his usual aggression crackled beneath the surface.
His frustration was evident in the clenched fists he held. I wanted to laugh but refrained as he wrestled against the compromise. His instinctual desire to be the one calling the shots itched to assert itself.
“I can see your mind racing. I suggest you weigh the risks and rewards carefully, but don’t take too long, or I’ll change my mind,”
I teased him, which only infuriated him more.
Reluctantly, Alek nodded in agreement with my terms. “Fine,”
he stated. “However, when you ask Sarah, I need her not to speak to Kinsley beforehand. I want it to be a surprise. If she suspects anything’s off, she won’t come.”
He turned to Nik, his voice filled with that never-ending confidence he seemed to have in abundance. “Nik, I trust you to handle Jenna delicately. The last thing I need is Alisha complicating matters. As for the remaining arrangements, leave them to me.”
And with that, we switched our conversation to additional planning we’d need to put into place for the weekend.
I realized how lucky I was in that moment, although my mind still hadn’t been able to completely distance itself from Vanya. I’d come to realize it never would.