Chapter 10 – Kirill
The scotch burned going down, but not enough to erase the memory of her face.
I’d left Barbara’s bedroom three hours ago, slipped out while she was still sleeping, her hair spread across the pillow like silk and her breathing soft and even.
I’d stood there for longer than I should have, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way moonlight painted her skin in shades of silver.
Then I’d walked out before I could do something stupid. Like stay or hold her. Like promise things I had no business promising.
Now I sat on a barstool in one of Chicago’s upscale lounges, nursing my second—third?
—glass of scotch and trying to convince myself that what had happened between us meant nothing.
That it was just anger and chemistry combusting into something physical.
That I could walk away from Barbara Davis and never look back.
The lie tasted worse than the alcohol.
Drew sat to my left, his steel-gray eyes watching me with concern. Damir occupied the stool to my right, though his attention was focused entirely on Hailey behind the bar. They’d been inseparable all night, talking and laughing like they’d known each other for years instead of weeks.
The lounge hummed with low music, something jazz-adjacent that blended into the background murmur of conversation.
Expensive cologne mixed with cigar smoke and the sharp citrus scent of cocktails being mixed.
Red light from the bar’s neon sign reflected off my glass, painting everything in shades of crimson that felt too appropriate given where my thoughts kept circling.
Blood. Violence. Revenge.
The things I was good at. The things I understood, not this mess of emotions that Barbara had stirred up inside me.
“You going to talk about it?” Drew asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear over the music. “Or are you just going to sit there and drink yourself into a stupor?”
I took another sip of scotch, letting it burn. “Nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit.” He leaned back against the bar, crossing his arms. “You’ve been staring at that glass like it holds the secrets of the universe. And you’ve got that look you get when you’re trying to solve a problem you don’t have the answer to.”
“Maybe I don’t want to solve it.”
“Also bullshit.”
I turned to look at him, my vision slightly fuzzy around the edges. The alcohol was hitting harder than usual, probably because I’d skipped dinner. Or maybe because I was using it to drown thoughts I couldn’t afford to have.
“She’s protecting him,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them. Before I could remember that talking about this was dangerous. That admitting I cared was weakness. “Barbara. She’s protecting Bass. Covering for him. Making excuses.”
Drew’s expression sharpened. “The boyfriend?”
“Yeah. The boyfriend.” The words tasted bitter. “She lets him terrorize her. Let’s him attack people who try to help. And for what? For some sick relationship that’s got her jumping every time her phone rings?”
“Kirill—”
“I’m a stupid idiot.” I drained the rest of my scotch, the glass hitting the bar with more force than intended. “I let her into my goddamn bed. Knowing she’s tangled up with this bastard. Knowing she’s lying to me about everything.”
“So walk away,” Drew said simply.
I stared at him. “What?”
“Walk away. Finish the security job. Take Andrew’s money. Move on to the next thing. Stop letting her get under your skin.” He paused. “Unless you can’t.”
Could I? Could I just walk away from Barbara Davis and pretend she didn’t exist? Pretend I hadn’t seen the fear in her eyes, the way she transformed into someone smaller when that phone rang?
Pretend I hadn’t felt something shift in my chest when she’d looked at me and said she came with baggage?
“Drew.” Damir’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Can you pass me that lime?”
Drew reached for the lime wedge, handing it over while Damir and Hailey laughed about something I hadn’t been paying attention to. They looked comfortable together. Easy. Happy even.
I wanted that. Wanted the simplicity of just being with someone without all the complications. Without the lies and fear and violence lurking in the shadows.
But nothing about Barbara Davis was simple.
“What’s his name?” Drew asked, pulling my attention back. “This Bass character. You got a full name? Location? Anything useful?”
“Just Bass.” I gestured for Hailey to refill my glass, trying to ignore the concerned look Drew shot me. “That’s what comes up on her phone. That’s all I know.”
“And you’re sure he’s the boyfriend?”
“What else would he be?” I watched the amber liquid pour into my glass, the red light making it look like blood. “He calls her constantly. She shakes when she answers. He barks orders at her like she’s property. That’s not a friend or a colleague.”
Drew was quiet for a moment, his jaw working like he was chewing on words he wasn’t sure he should say. “Control doesn’t always mean a romantic relationship.”
“Then what?” I turned to face him fully, the alcohol making me more aggressive than I intended. “What kind of relationship involves terrorizing someone until they’re afraid to breathe wrong?”
“Lots of kinds.” His voice was careful. “Blackmail. Coercion. Family shit. Could be anything.”
“It’s her boyfriend,” I insisted, even as doubt crept in. Because Drew had a point. The way Bass—the masked man—had acted in that parking lot hadn’t been like a jealous boyfriend defending his territory. It had been calculated. Like someone protecting a secret rather than a relationship.
But that didn’t make sense with everything else I’d seen.
Drew opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off, raising my glass slightly. “Bass,” I said the name louder than necessary, the scotch making my volume control questionable. “Her boyfriend. Bass is Barbara’s boyfriend.”
The words hung in the air for a beat.
Then Hailey’s hand froze mid-pour.
She was refilling drinks for a couple at the end of the bar, but she stopped completely, her dark eyes going wide. She set the bottle down with exaggerated care and turned to face us, her entire posture shifting from casual bartender to something more intense.
“Wait.” Her voice cut through the ambient noise. “Bass? Why the fuck are you guys talking about that shitty creature?”
The lounge noise faded into background static. Drew and I both turned to stare at Hailey. Damir shifted on his stool, his expression going from relaxed to alert in an instant.
“You know him?” I asked, my fingers tightening on the glass.
“Know him? No. But I know of him.” Hailey’s jaw was tight, her hands clenched on the bar. “How do you know about Bass?”
“Answer his question first,” Damir said, his voice dropping into that low register that meant business. “How do you know about him? Did you ever see him?”
Hailey took a deep breath, shaking her head.
Her hands unclenched slowly, deliberately, like she was forcing herself to stay calm.
“I’ve never met him. Never saw his face.
But Barbara’s mentioned him. And trust me when I say”—she looked directly at me, her eyes blazing—“Bass is not Barbara’s boyfriend. ”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “What?”
“He’s not her boyfriend,” Hailey repeated, each word precise and cutting. “He’s her half-brother. And he’s a real psycho.”
The world tilted sideways.
Half-brother. Not boyfriend. Half-brother.
Everything I thought I knew, every assumption I’d made about Barbara, about her situation, about why she was protecting this bastard, crashed down around me like a building with its foundations blown out.
“His name is Sebastian,” Hailey continued, her voice hard with barely controlled rage.
“Sebastian Davis. Andrew’s son from his first marriage.
And he’s got something on Barbara. I don’t know what; she’s never told us the details.
But he’s been blackmailing her since she was sixteen.
Always demanding money. Terrorizing her. ”
My mind raced, trying to recalculate everything. The phone calls. The fear. The way she’d looked when I accused her of having a boyfriend. The way she’d tried to tell me it was complicated, but couldn’t find the words.
The gun he’d held to her in the hallway.
Because it wasn’t a boyfriend. It was family. It was blackmail.
It was so much worse than I’d imagined.
“Andrew cut ties with Sebastian years ago,” Hailey went on, pouring herself a shot of vodka and downing it in one smooth motion.
“Due to shady activities. The guy’s involved in all sorts of illegal shit.
But he keeps coming back to Barbara. Keeps demanding money.
And she keeps paying because….” Hailey stopped, shaking her head.
“Because of whatever he has on her. Whatever leverage he’s using. ”
“Fuck.” Drew breathed the word, his eyes cutting to me. “Kirill….”
But I wasn’t listening. Couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in my ears. Over the sound of every piece of the puzzle clicking into place with devastating clarity.
The forged security footage. The loops that let him sneak into the mansion. The gun pressed to her ribs. The terror in her eyes every time his name appeared on her screen.
Not a boyfriend terrorizing his girlfriend.
A brother blackmailing his sister.
The glass in my hand cracked.
I felt the sharp pain of glass cutting into my palm, warm blood mixing with scotch. But I couldn’t let go. Couldn’t unclench my fingers from where they’d tightened with enough force to shatter crystal.
Because the rage burning through my veins demanded somewhere to go. Demanded an outlet. Demanded violence that I couldn’t deliver without breaking Vladimir’s promise.
“Fuck.” The word came out through gritted teeth, forced past the fury that was trying to consume me. “Fuck.”
Damir was suddenly there, prying the broken glass from my hand, wrapping a bar towel around my bleeding palm. “Easy, brother. Easy.”