Page 145 of Sadistic

"And he was at our wedding?"

"Apparently."

"Why didn't you tell me yesterday?"

"Because it was our wedding day. You looked happy. I wasn't going to ruin that with my homicidal brother." He reaches for my hand again. "But I should have. Partners means sharing the threats too."

"Yeah, it does." I squeeze his fingers. "So what do we do?"

"We be careful. Olyvar doesn't do anything without a plan. If he's here, he wants something."

"Maybe he just wanted to see his brother get married?"

Doran's laugh is bitter. "Olyvar doesn't do sentimental bullshite. He's here for a reason, and it won't be good."

"Tell me about him."

"He's twenty-eight. Smart, charming when he wants to be. Looks like me but prettier—takes after Mum more." He stares out at the city. "We were close as kids. He was my shadow, wanted to do everything I did. Then Dad started grooming me for leadership and something... broke in him."

"Jealousy?"

"More than that. Betrayal, maybe. He thought we'd run things together, brothers against the world." His voice goes flat. "Instead, he got to watch me train while he was sidelined."

"That doesn't justify attempted murder."

"No, but in our world, it's almost predictable." He turns back to me. "The attempt was three years ago. Poison in my whiskey—classic, really. Would have worked if Mikhail hadn't noticed something off about the seal."

"Jesus."

"Mum was devastated. Dad wanted him dead. I convinced them that exile was enough." He laughs humorlessly. "Soft of me, really. Should have let Dad handle it."

"He's your brother."

"He's a threat." Doran's mask slips back into place. "And now he's here, which means I need to figure out why."

"We," I correct. "We need to figure out why. Partners, remember?"

His expression softens. "Right. We."

My phone buzzes.

Dalla, because of course she's checking on me:

You alive? Or did the Bratva prince murder you with his dick?

I show Doran the text.

He nearly spits out his coffee laughing. "Your sister has such a way with words."

I type back:

Alive. Barely. Tell you everything later.

Within seconds I have a response:

You better. Mom's driving me crazy with her bets on when she thinks you guys will have kids.

I laugh and type back my response:

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