Page 55 of Ruin

Can’t.

Caught in his gaze like a baby bird in a snare.

And when he finally steps forward, emerging out into the low red light of the black cave. Venomous green eyes, disturbing hooked smirk. Devine terror wrapped in brutal, bloodied, inked skin.

He smiles.

There’s a ruthless monster trapped beneath his bones, and as my lips pull up at the corners, the skin at the outer corners of my eyes tightening. I smile back, silently asking him to show me more.

Chapter25

Kazimir

Smoke drifts up towards the ceiling, pluming and circling thickly overhead. My eyes narrow in on the man opposite me, beady brown eyes, greased back, dark hair, thinning in the front. Gold teeth gleam at me from around the fat cigar, the smarmy, smug grin on my uncle’s face makes me want to punch him.

Or shoot him.

I’d prefer to stab him if I had the strength.

But the pain in my temples continues to pound, even a week after being fucking bombed, and it feels like there’s a rave happening inside my skull.

I push the dark sunglasses up, fingertip running the length of my bruised nose, they’re possibly the only thing keeping me fucking upright in this chair. The stress of being blown up, everything else that comes with it. All on top of an agonising migraine, is way more than I want to be dealing with today.

Let alone the man, loose term for what he really is, spineless fucking rodent, sitting opposite me right now.

“Why are you even dealing with these Italians?” he spits on the floor, and I see Dima twitch out the corner of my eye.

Uncle Leonid having barged into my office to announce his arrival whilst I was mid-meeting with Vito Gambino.

Not ideal.

I kiss my teeth, tongue rolling over the top ones. I shift in my seat, leaning forward, mashing out my cigarette in the crystal ashtray atop the desk. The chair rocks side to side as I lounge back in the leather.

“Business,” I reply, dropping my head against the top of the chair, cracking my neck.

“Why don’t I know about it?” his fat fingers pluck the cigar free, resting it between his two forefingers, ashing it on the floor.

A smile splits my face, sensing the shudder from Dima, the man is very much anti-mess, and he’s going to want to clean that up himself, just to make sure it’s done correctly.

“You don’t seek advice from your belovedDyadyaanymore?” Leonid asks, an eyebrow raised over one eye.

“What are you here for?” I exhale heavily, already fed up of being in my deceased Father’s brother’s presence.

I wonder when he is going back to Russia.

I wonder if I could hurry it up…

“How much do you want?”

He spits again, slamming a fat hand down on my desk. Leaning forward in the chair, his chin almost flush with the wood.

“How dare you speak to me that way, boy,” his eyes drop down my relaxed position in the chair, rolling back up my body, a sneer on his mouth. “I just came to check in on my favourite nephew after hearing what happened,” he tsks, leaning back into his chair, cigar popping back between his teeth.

I scoff, attempting to hide a smirk on my lips, “I’m your only nephew, Uncle.”

He nods in agreement, dropping his gaze, those beady little eyes flicking back up onto mine, “Tragic, may your brother rest in peace.”

My nostrils flair at the mere mention of him, and it makesmewant to fucking spit. Instead, I roll my eyes, plaster a grin on my face. Something my brother was also very good at.

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