Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANTON
Aleksei’s basement gym is the only place I want to be the next day. I need a sparring partner. Something to hit so I can stop thinking about her face, her laugh, and everything else irritating about her.
My fist slams into the heavy bag, sending it swinging as the chains rattle overhead, and I hit it again, then again, each strike heavier than the last. Still, her laughter comes back louder, along with the smug little smile she wore when I let her stay, as though she’d beaten me at some kind of game.
I’ve never enjoyed losing this much before.
With a roar, I drive my fist into the bag again.
“If you are planning to kill it, maybe warn it first?”
I glance over at Aleksei, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, amusement drawing at his mouth. “Shut up.”
He snickers. “Chto s toboy?” What’s wrong with you? His eyes narrow, too interested for my liking. “Can’t be pussy, so it has to be something else.”
“Nothing.”
“Mm.”
He doesn’t believe me. I can see it all over his face.
Turning away, I collect my sparring gloves from the bench, sliding them on and flexing my fingers. “Stop talking and get your gloves on before I decide not to give you a chance.”
Aleksei chuckles, pushing off the wall. “There is my brother.”
He reaches for his own gloves while I roll my neck, shoving every thought of her back where it belongs: out of my damn head.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” Aleksei says, stepping in front of me.
He’s ready to go, just not as ready as I am. He comes at me first, and I block the strike before throwing one back so hard he laughs through his teeth.
We circle each other, trading blows, and with every strike, I tell myself the same thing.
Figure this out. Get her out of your head for good.
Because if I don’t, I’ll end up exactly like my brothers: obsessed with a woman and letting attachment overrule logic.
And Thora Whitlock is making that very fucking difficult.
After the workout, Aleksei and I head straight to Konstantin’s house. By the time we step into his office, Kirill is already there, standing near the window with that distant look he gets sometimes, like part of him is somewhere else entirely. Probably with his son, Lev.
I can’t imagine having a kid. Caring about someone so much they become your greatest weakness. Love in any form makes a man vulnerable, and I refuse to turn into him.
Instead, I focus on Konstantin, who’s seated behind his desk, hands braced against the wood, posture rigid. Something happened.
“The Whitlocks have taken two more of our clients.” A muscle tics in his jaw.
“Then we kill them today.” Aleksei’s chest rises and falls with angry breaths.
Konstantin’s fingers press harder into the desk. “We will, but not without a plan.”
“It’s time,” Kirill adds. “They think we’re weak.”
Konstantin straightens, his eyes moving between us. “They won’t think that for long. I arranged a meeting in a few days. I want to look Harlan and the rest of them in the eye one more time before we hit them where it hurts most.”
Thora.
The thought of killing her…it brings the same unease I feel every time the thought hits.
An exhale slips from Aleksei, carrying the faintest hint of humor. “That should be interesting.”
Konstantin turns to me. “Have you learned anything we can use against them?”
I hold his gaze. “No.”
He watches me a second too long, and I force myself to add more before he starts thinking I’m failing at my job.
“She’s kept in the dark. She doesn’t know anything about that side of the business.”
Konstantin gives a single nod. “Ladno. But keep at her. Get closer. Make her open up to you.”
Yeah, she’s opening up for me all right.
I grip the back of my neck, forcing the memory of her moaning my name out of my head while Konstantin keeps talking.
“I think they’re hiding something we can use to hurt them. Maybe even get them killed so we don’t have to do it ourselves.”
“Like what?” Aleksei asks.
Konstantin’s fingers tap once against the desk. “A senator’s son went missing about a year ago. Some believe the Whitlocks were involved.”
A year ago…
She told me something happened a year ago.
“Look into it,” Konstantin continues. “I want to know if she knows anything about it. Horosho?” Okay?
“Something happened to me a year ago, and I just…can’t seem to move past it… My family took care of it.”
Konstantin’s gaze intensifies when I don’t respond right away. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I keep my expression neutral. “I’ll find out whatever you need.”
He nods, satisfied enough to move on, already turning his attention back to a possible new supplier. But I’m not listening anymore.
Because for the first time, I just lied to my brother. For her.
And I know without a shadow of a doubt, if that ublyudok hurt Thora, then there’s no chance in hell I’m handing that information over. Not to Konstantin or anyone else.
That belongs to me.