Page 6 of Twisted Prince

“Bratok, you need to get over to Imperia now,” Lev growls as soon as he picks up.

I stop dead in my tracks, noting the urgency in his voice. “What happened?” I demand, making an abrupt about-face and heading back out my front door.

“Mikhail’s men. They shot up the club. Looks like they took out every one of our men. The product’s gone. All of it.”

A string of Russian curses issue from my lips. “So much for a ceasefire. I’m on my way.”

Imperia’s not far from my place. It’ll be fastest to take the subway into Manhattan. Slinking swiftly into the underground, I slip onto the train just moments before the door closes. And in less than ten minutes, I’m back out on the street, heading toward Pyotr’s nightclub.

The sun’s still setting over the city, so the club wasn’t open for business at least. But I hardly consider that a victory when countless more Veles men are dead because Mikhail has no honor—not a single honest bone in his body.

Sometimes, I hate being right.

I see the value in Pyotr’s efforts to maintain peace—hope. It’s a part of what keeps people human. But in Mikhail’s case, I think it’s safe to assume he’s an exception to the rule.

The destruction is visible as soon as I climb the steps of Imperia and enter the three-story vaulted-ceiling nightclub. Bullet holes trail down the walls, putting pock marks on either side of the shattered wall sconces. The floor is littered with glass and slick with blood.

Lev meets me as soon as I enter, his face dark with fury.

“Get this cleaned up. And bar the front doors. Put out a sign saying that we’re undergoing renovations.”

He nods, walking with me as I head across the spacious dance floor. I weave between the booths toward the back room, where we sell our product. I take note of the intentional destruction as we go.

It looks like the men stood their ground. It must have been a good-sized force of Zhivoder men to overwhelm them so completely. And I recognize several of the bodies as Mikhail’s men. He didn’t even bother to take them with him.

I scoff. Pig. That’s one way to leave a message.

My phone vibrates against my leg, and I give Lev a silent nod, dismissing him to get started on my orders.

“Da,” I answer, not bothering to look at the screen.

“Gleb, thank god. Someone’s here. At the house,” Melody breathes, her voice low and muffled like she’s trying to trap her voice near the phone.

Blyat. “Who’s there?”

My stomach drops as I hear several screams and the rapid fire of a machine gun.

“I don’t know,” she confesses, her voice on the brink of tears. “I’m hiding upstairs, in the closet. But… they killed Igor.” She releases a soft sob.

My gut twists as I recall some of my last words to him. He might have gotten under my skin by reading too much into my actions, but he was a good man. A good soldier. He didn’t deserve to die. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.” This day just keeps getting worse.

“Okay…” she murmurs, her voice trembling. “Wait, I… think… maybe they’ve left.”

“Stay hidden,” I warn, turning for the door.

“’Kay—” Her first obedient word to me, and it gets cut short, ending in a terrified shriek.

The phone crackles and thumps, and then all I can hear is muffled screaming.

“Let me go! Ow! Please stop,” Mel begs, then, “You’re hurting me!”

My heart stops dead in my chest. They’ve found her. And from the sound of it, they’re dragging her from her room. Damn it.

I don’t wait for Lev.

I’m out the door, sprinting before I’ve even jammed my phone back in my pocket.

Racing back across town in record time, I shove people out of my way in the underground so I can get where I need to go. Gun in my hand before I reach the bottom steps of the girls’ concrete porch, I slow, settling into a defensive crouch. Then I creep stealthily up the stairs.

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