Page 44 of Brutal Union
A sharpthunkfollows, and a yelp pierces the air.
“What thefuck, Nadia?” Nik hisses, stumbling backward, his hand clamped around his shoulder.
The three-inch blade is buried deep, just shy of the collarbone.
“Don’t take out my knife, Nik,” I warn, my voice sharp as I straighten—ignoring the scream of pain racing up my side. “You pull it, and the next one will go in your thigh. And we allknowhow many major arteries are down there.”
Nik grits his teeth, lips curled in pain as he glances at the handle protruding from his shoulder. “To what do I owe thepleasureof you torturing me?”
“We’re just getting started big bro,” I mock as I snap my fingers. “Close the door.”
He turns, still swearing under his breath—but before he can do it, the door swings wider.
Another shadow enters. I don’t hesitate. My second blade is already airborne.
But this time, there’s no thud. No scream. Just asnapof motion—clean, fast—and the sound of steel being caught midair.
Aleksandr steps fully into the room, casually inspecting the knife between his fingers, spinning it once like it’s a toy.
“That’s no way to greet your little brother,” he says with a crooked grin.
I roll my eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t go for your neck.”
“You’re lucky I’m faster than Nik,” he tosses back, sauntering toward me like I didn’t just try to injure him. He sets the blade down on the edge of the mahogany desk. “Though I gotta say… you’re losing your edge. Half an inch to the left and you would’ve taken out his jugular.”
Nik glares at both of us. “I swear, it’s like you two have actual murder in your DNA.”
“We do,” Aleksandr and I say in unison.
“I will let this attempted murder slide, since I am assuming this has to do with your townhouse exploding thirty-six hours ago,” Aleksandr’s tone is rigid as he slides his hands into his front pockets.
Nik shuts the door behind him with a grunt, a sharp inhale escaping as the movement tugs at the knife still lodged in his shoulder.
“Nice way to let us know you’re alive, by the way,” he mutters, wincing.
Aleksandr looks down at Sho, jabbing a thumb in his direction. “Sho is supposed to be dead.”
I swallow hard, but Sho just leans back in the chair, casual as hell, lacing his hands behind his head like he’s sunbathing.
“They’ve been saying that for years, Alek,” he drawls, grinning. “At this point, it’ll probably take the entire Japanese military to take me down—and that’s only if they catch me in my sleep.”
“I told you to be silent,” I snap, slicing my gaze at him like a blade.
Sho leans forward dramatically, then takes his thumb and forefinger andzipshis lips, pantomimes locking them, and tosses the imaginary key over his shoulder.
I roll my eyes. “You should be more concerned with yourownlife than his.”
I move across the room toward the crystal decanter on the cabinet, the sharp click of my boots filling the silence. I take a page out of Boris’s handbook and pour a single glass—only one. A not-so-subtle reminder that this isnota friendly meeting.
Aleksandr watches me closely, arms folded. “And why exactly should I be worried for my life?”
I snort softly, the scent of oak and smoke curling up from the rim of the glass. I take a sip—burning, bitter, perfect—and fix him with a cool stare.
“Because someone here hired a man to kill me,” I announce to the room with a dramatic flair. “And that person will not leave this room alive.”
Nik’s, jaw is tight as he steps forward—still clutching the hilt of the knife in his shoulder. “Everyone agreed to the transfer of power, Nadia. The council voted unanimously. I renounced my claim. You’re the head. No one here is challenging that.”
I raise an eyebrow, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “Funny. Because assassins usually aren’t in the job description for peaceful transitions.”
