Chapter 10 – Kirill #2
But there was nothing easy about this. Nothing easy about realizing I’d spent weeks thinking Barbara was protecting a boyfriend when she was actually being terrorized by family. Nothing easy about knowing I’d called her a cheater, had looked at her with disgust, had accused her of playing games….
When she’d been drowning, and I’d been too blind to see it.
“The masked man in the parking lot,” I said, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. “That was Sebastian?”
Hailey’s eyes widened. “What parking lot? What are you talking about?”
“He attacked me. Told me to stay away from the mansion’s cameras. To stop meddling.” I looked at Drew, then at Hailey. “That was her half-brother. That’s who’s been sneaking into the Davis mansion.”
“Son of a bitch,” Drew muttered.
“What does he have on her?” I demanded, turning back to Hailey. “What kind of blackmail keeps someone trapped for five years?”
“I don’t know.” Hailey’s expression was frustrated, helpless.
“She’s never told us. Never shared the details.
Cassandra and I have been trying to get her to open up for years, but she just—” She made a gesture of futility.
“She keeps it locked down. Whatever it is, it’s bad enough that she’d rather pay him forever than have it come out. ”
My mind went to dark places. Images. Videos. Evidence of something she’d done—or something done to her. The possibilities were endless, and all of them made me want to put my fist through something.
Made me want to find Sebastian Davis and make him pay for every moment of fear he’d inflicted on his sister.
Vladimir’s promise be damned.
“How do we find him?” The question came out flat, emotionless. The calm before violence.
“Kirill.” Drew’s voice held a warning. “Think about this. Vladimir’s conditions—”
“I don’t give a fuck about Vladimir’s conditions.” The words were out before I could stop them. “This bastard has been terrorizing Barbara for five years. Putting his hands on her. Threatening her. Blackmailing her.”
“And you care because?” Damir asked quietly.
I didn’t have an answer. Or rather, I had too many answers, none of which made sense. Because I shouldn’t care. Barbara was just a job. Just Andrew Davis’s daughter, just another wealthy girl with problems that weren’t my concern.
Except somewhere along the way, she’d stopped being just anything.
Somewhere between that first dance and waking up with her in my arms, she’d become something else entirely. Something I couldn’t name and didn’t want to examine too closely.
Something that made the thought of Sebastian Davis touching her, threatening her, hurting her—unbearable.
“Because nobody deserves that,” I finally said, the half-truth easier than admitting the real reason. “Nobody deserves to live in fear of their own family.”
Hailey studied me for a long moment, her dark eyes seeing too much. Then she nodded slowly. “Barbara went home about an hour ago. If you want to check on her….”
“I just left there.” The admission came out before I could stop it.
The silence that followed was heavy with implication. Drew raised an eyebrow. Damir’s lips twitched toward a smile he quickly suppressed. Hailey’s expression shifted from concerned to knowing in the span of a heartbeat.
“So that’s how it is,” she said softly.
“It’s not—” I stopped. Because what was the point in denying it? “It’s complicated.”
“With Barbara, it always is.” Hailey started cleaning up the broken glass and spilled scotch, her movements efficient.
“But if you actually care about her—if this isn’t just some white knight complex or guilt trip—then you need to know what you’re getting into.
Sebastian isn’t just blackmailing her. He’s dangerous.
Like, legitimately dangerous. Connected to some cartel shit that Andrew spent years trying to bury. ”
Los Zetas. The pieces clicked together with sickening clarity. The masked man’s professional movements. The smoke pellet. The way he’d fought Illyana with training that went beyond street brawling.
Sebastian Davis wasn’t just a blackmailer. He was cartel-trained. Cartel-connected.
Which made him so much more dangerous than I’d thought
And Barbara had been dealing with him alone for five years.
“I need to talk to her.” I stood, ignoring the way the room tilted slightly. The scotch and adrenaline were mixing into something combustible in my veins. “I need to—”
“You need to sober up first,” Drew said firmly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “And figure out what you’re going to say that won’t make things worse.”
He was right. I knew he was right. But every instinct I had was screaming at me to get back to that mansion. To make sure Barbara was safe. To tell her I knew the truth and I was going to help her whether she wanted it or not.
To tell her I was sorry for every assumption I’d made. Every accusation. Every moment I’d looked at her with anything less than understanding.
“Tomorrow,” Drew said, reading my expression. “Talk to her tomorrow when you’re thinking clearly. When you can actually help instead of just making things worse.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist I was fine, that I could handle this. But the blood seeping through the bar towel wrapped around my hand and the way the floor kept shifting beneath my feet suggested otherwise.
“Fine.” I sat back down heavily. “Tomorrow.”
But even as I agreed, even as Hailey poured me water and Damir started talking about something else to distract me, my mind was already racing ahead.
Planning. Strategizing. Figuring out how to help Barbara without breaking Vladimir’s promise.
Figuring out how to make Sebastian Davis pay for what he’d done without killing him.
Because one thing was certain: I wasn’t walking away from this. Wasn’t walking away from her.