50. Vasiliy
The Morozov Compound is the same as the day I left. The filigree is still immaculately trimmed, and the fountain’s trickle remains a quiet constant.
The welcome, however, is much changed. Back when the locals called me the Beast of Moscow, I could waltz through these very gates without so much as a weapons check.
Even though I bought a residence half an hour away for Anya and her caregivers, I was expected to return here each night.
Another method of ensuring my good behavior.
I was only allowed to visit my sister when Uncle was pleased.
“Arms out,” the enforcer barks. He won’t meet my eyes, but I know he still sees the boy he cut up in the downstairs hold. Anton may have been displeased by the assignment, but he followed orders all the same. By the time he was done, I’d been successfully hardened into the desired weapon.
They frisk me twice more before sending me up to the office.
Sasha was right—they removed my weapons and devices before allowing me on the plane.
Maybe that’s for the best. If I had the option to call her, there’s a good chance I would have stormed over to the cockpit and demanded the pilot pull a barrel roll back toward Chicago.
Leaving nearly killed me the first time.
I wouldn’t survive a second go. My fist smacks twice against the wood.
“Come in.”
I’m not ready for the cool rage that pours over my skin at seeing him again. His dark eyes glare into me, even as a preening smile lights his lips. He may seem like a troublesome old man playing trickster to the untrained eye, but I know better. I’ve been the knife in his hand.
“How was your flight?” he asks, eyes flicking back down to the folder of paperwork on his desk.
I stare back.
The scars on my chest twitch, as they always do in his presence. I learned not to scratch them years ago.
“Oh, it’s going to be like that, is it?” He tosses the paperwork down.
“Honestly, Vasiliy, what kind of operation do you think I’m running here?
You abandon your assignment, spend months hiding out in an enemy’s compound and fucking around with their women, and now you refuse to speak, just like those cowardly games you played as a boy? ”
The evening birds coo outside, swirling above the guarded gates. I bet Sasha’s screwing up Octavia’s morning coffee right about now. I should be there, waking her with gentle kisses and braiding her hair for training. I wonder who he’ll have her train with.
“Fine. I never had any use for your words, anyway.” He gestures to the chair in front of his desk.
I gaze at the familiar seat for a long time before sitting down.
“You’ve always learned best through punishment and structure.
Until further notice, you will not have access to visits with your sister.
You will move back into your old room here and complete every job I give you without a single one of your fuck-ups. ”
I blink back at him. He doesn’t like my silence—he can’t manipulate it.
Unfortunately, I’m having a hard time digging a single word from my skull and offering it to the man who equated Octavia’s life to a lousy ten million dollars.
He’s only ever gone after me. That was fine.
Cut me, burn me, shoot me, I don’t care.
But the second he went after the love of my life…
Oh God.
The love of my life.
I love her.
“I’m finished with you,” he snaps from outside my burst paradigm. A burner cell scrapes across the table. “Go skulk somewhere else. Your first assignment will be sent to you within the hour. And Vasiliy?”
I blink again, raising my chin in defeat.
“If I catch you reaching out to any of your friends over in the States, I’ll throw the bounty back up so fast, she’ll be dead within the hour.”