Page 13 of Essence of Fear

Or, that’s what he’d always been told.

Konstantin cleared his throat, drawing Pav’s attention back to him once more. “You’ve always been good to the Boykovs, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t given a choice.”

“And yet …” Konstantin trailed off with a wave of his hand. “Here you are, Pavel.”

“I’m surprise you even know my name.”

“Do you prefer Zha—”

“Nyet.”

Konstantin nodded. “Settles that, then.”

Did it?

Pav had no idea.

“It’s time the Boykovs are good to you,” the man murmured. “Beginning with protection and letting you have … well, as much freedom as I can allow.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m sure your time spent here has afforded you some education on the Bratva and our life. The rules and so forth.”

“Enough to get by,” Pav returned.

Konstantin smiled coldly. “That’s all you need. We’ll start with the stars—two, on your clavicles. They’ll give you rank and protection. As for your duties … they will vary, but you’ll begin answering to me and my brother today and beyond, yes? You won’t die in these chambers, Pavel. I think you’ve atoned for your father’s actions long enough.”

Pav blinked. “When?”

“For what?”

“The tattoos.”

“Soon. I’ll have a date and address for you, and that’s where it’ll happen.”

Pav’s cheek twitched and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. Konstantin didn’t miss the actions.

“What is it?” the man asked.

He wanted to swallow the words and keep his weakness to himself. Here, weakness was a target and the last thing he could afford to be around any of these men was weak. Even if it was something as innocent as words and his truth, saying them at all felt akin to stripping himself of the only things in his life that allowed him a sense of safety and comfort. His knives. He didn’t hand those weapons to anyone in this godforsaken place; he didn’t offer his true feelings or thoughts in the same manner.

Still, even with that in mind, Pav decided he had to offer Konstantin some semblance of trust, considering what the man was currently giving him. He kept that in mind as he replied, “Leaving here makes me uncomfortable when I’m—”

“We’ll work on that, hmm? And for this … I could make an exception.”

Well, what did that mean?

Pav didn’t bother to ask.

3.

INSTEAD OF taking one of the three plush couches in the waiting area of the office, Viktoria opted to stand near the window. It was less awkward than pretending to read one of the many magazines on the coffee table while she waited for her appointment. Plus, with her back turned to the girl sitting at the modernly designed desk, she didn’t have to act like she gave a fuck about talking, either.

All wins for her.

It wasn’t her first time at this particular office—not even the tenth. Yet, it didn’t get any easier. Her anxiety about the things that might be discussed behind the office walls hadn’t lessened with time. She still felt like, more than anything, she wanted to shrink away and hide from the rest of the world.