Maxim: I’m not being any kind of way
Victoria: Now you’re lying
Victoria: Look, I have to go before I decide to ask Conor to remotely blow up your phone BECAUSE YOU PISSED ME OFF
Victoria: I’m pretty sure I’d regret it.
Victoria: Eventually
Maxim: I’ll see you tonight. We can talk about this later
Maxim: Victoria?
Maxim: Victoria?
Maxim: Dammit to hell
FORTY-FOUR
WHEN YOU MARRY A QUEEN, YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER TO KNEEL
After that aggravating-as-fucktext chat with my glowing bride, I study the setup ahead of me and nod in approval.
At least some things are normal in my world.
My men obey my commands.
Unlike my wife.
“You sure about this,shukher?”
“I trust you, Kirill. I do. Genuinely. But the fact you asked me that out loud has me wondering why the fuck you’re so high up in my ranks.”
It’s like being nagged by a nanny.
It’s also the last thing I need after arguing with my wife of seventy-two hours.
He reddens and stands straighter. “There are repercussions if you go ahead with this.”
“Scared of spilling pig blood, Kirill?When aren’t there repercussions? A pig touched my bride. What do you think I should do? Shake his hand instead of cutting it off?”
Kirill’s mouth purses but he retreats.
Staying out of this is what he should’ve done from the start.
Tima claps Kirill on the back. Commiseratively.
As if I needed more motivation to demote the pair of them.
“You can’t do this,” Bordeau sobs as the sound of my approach echoes around the warehouse. “You need to let me go. I’m a cop!”
Bordeau, suspended between two tables, in a puddle of light so bright it’s strong enough to make anyone’s eyes water, jerks his head from left to right as he seeks the source of my footsteps.
The rest of the warehouse floor is pitch black, making it harder for him to know where I am and, more so,whoI am.
He doesn’t know two dozen of my men circle him.
He has no idea they’re waiting to crack out the vodka to celebrate his punishment.
