“Never better, Lil.” I try to smile, but I know it lands tight and brittle. “Get the knuckleheads in here, would ya?”
She nods slowly, still watching Sho like he might spontaneously combust. I push through the double doors into the office before either of them can say anything else.
The office looks the same way my father, Boris had it when he ran the Bratva. All the deep reds and dark browns run intoeach other across the room, but in corners there are hints of gold giving the space a luxury feel it never needed. The only difference is the massive mahogany desk that dominates the center, glossy and completely clashing with the rest of the room, but it is the desk Nikolai wanted when he ascended to power. He fucking loves this desk. A part of my desire to break it. It’s my desk anyway now.
Sho steps in behind me, slowly closing the door behind him.
“Why was your front desk girl looking like she was one deep breath away from pressing a panic button?” he asks, moving deeper into the room.
I walk toward the desk, my fingers grazing the edge before I settle against it. “Because Lily’s my best friend.”
Sho flops down into the black leather seat across from the desk, a large smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Have you been talking about me?”
I don’t answer immediately. I reach for a file on the corner of the desk, flipping it open like I didn’t hear the question. But my ears are already burning.
Sho leans in closer, and I can feel the excitement ringing off of his body.
“Youhavebeen talking about me,” he says, delighted. “You told her about me. Aboutus.”
“I didn’t sayus—” I start, defensive, flustered.
He laughs. Fully laughs, loud and smug. I want to gag him with the butt of my gun. “God, you like me.”
“Itolerateyou,” I bite back.
“You like me,” he sing-songs, dragging a chair around and dropping into it with far too much satisfaction. “Lily knows. I know. Honestly, the only one still in denial is you.”
I glare at him. “Sho, I swear to God?—”
Before my brain can register a face, muscle memory kicks in. I pull the blade from my thigh holster and let it fly.
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 likeit’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.”