Page 51 of Brutal Union
“No,” he says. “I let her live. Because Boris didn’t want her killed cleanly. He wanted her to suffer, a job like that takes time and energy that a clean kill doesn’t.”
I nod, a smile rushing across my face. “The fuckers ego got in the way.”
“Most men do,” he nods. “Now Duri.”
“Guildhouse School in London, under the name Nathan Choi.”
Bhon nods slowly, letting the name settle into his bloodstream like a sedative. For a moment, the killer vanishes, and something vulnerable—something human—flickers behind his eyes.
“Nathan…” he repeats under his breath, like it tastes foreign on his tongue. “Guildhouse School.”
I nod once. “Dormitory C. Corner room. He likes astronomy. Paints when he can’t sleep. I made sure he’d never have to lift a blade. His adoptive parents Guilda and Franklin love him dearly, but they will be expecting you.”
Bhon’s jaw clenches again, but it’s different this time—like he’s grinding down a scream, or a prayer. He turns away from me.
“This changes nothing between us,” he mutters.
“I didn’t ask it to.”
“But I owe you now,” he adds, eyes flicking to mine. “And I hate owing people.”
“You’ll repay me when the time comes,” I say, already moving toward the door.
Just as I reach the velvet curtain, his voice cuts through behind me, low and dark:
“Sho.”
I stop. Glance back.
“A man who orders a hit on their daughter,” Bhon says, a violent chill in his eyes, “doesn't deserve a clean kill.”
“Oh,” I smirk, lips curling over the rage brewing in my chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
13
NADIA
“Deep breath,Malen'kaya,”Little one. Rebecca whispers, her latex-covered finger pressing lightly into my side.
I suck in sharply, the lightning pain from my wound dulled to a slow burn over the week. It still bites, but no longer cripples. That’s what I callprogress.
“Not bad,” she mutters, eyes narrowing through her rainbow-colored glasses as she leans in to get a closer look. “No signs of infection. That’s more than I can say for some of theidiotsyou surround yourself with.”
“Don’t remind me,” I groan. “One of Aleksandr’s guys thought it was a good idea to pour vodka on a bullet wound and duct-tape it shut a couple of weeks ago.”
Rebecca barks out a laugh, as she pushes me onto my side to look at the back side of the wound. “Andyou’rethe one with the reputation for sadism. That man should be on a watchlist.”
“That man is not allowed to breathe without someone watching him. I am afraid he will die by accident,” I let out a chuckle.
The light squeeze of an ointment bottle is the only thing that alerts me before the cold jelly goes on my skin. Rebecca smiles. “That boy did a good job.”
I smile, biting back a wince as she gently wipes away the excess healing ointment. “Don’t tell him that. He’ll never let me live it down.”
“He shouldn’t. You could have died Nadia,” she whispers, her voice softer than I have ever heard it.
“Don’t get soft on me Rebecca,” I groan, moving to sit up on my coffee table.
“I can be as soft as I want to be,” she snaps, her voice dipping just slightly. “You are lucky that I was available to be flown in from Japan. With all this chaos, travel restrictions, and oh yeah—that amount of people who want you dead. I am surprised no one tried to kill me.”
