Page 53 of The Stalking King

“If that isn’t love,” he says, “I’m not sure the word has any meaning.”

Our sandwiches arrive, ending the conversation. The bar is empty except for us and the Bratva-affiliated staff. Downstairs, the Vale man squeals out, just about audible. I’m halfway through the sandwich when my phone vibrates.

It’s Lia. Her words send a cold chill through me.

Lia: He’s dead.

I try to call her immediately. She rejects the call and sends me a text.

Lia: I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m afraid I’ll say things I might regret. MIGHT regret, Maksim.

Maksim: Who’s dead?

Lia: Who do you think! It’s all over the news.

“Turn on the TV,” I tell the barman.

“… violent crime of a sickening nature,” the reporter is saying, standing outside an apartment complex surrounded by police tape. “The details are still emerging, but sources close to the scene tell us the victim is twenty-three-year-old Daniel Mercer, a delivery driver who, we’re told, was in debt to some as-yet unnamed figures.”

I slam my fist on the table so hard the plates leap up and a glass falls to the floor, shattering.

“Fuck,” I growl.

I try to call Lia again. She rejects it again.

Lia: Whoever that poor man was, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this! You need to explain what’s going on. Who you are. Information, you said. But this is more than information. This is wrong. You need to tell me everything, or I swear to God, the first place I’m going after work is the police station.

Nikolai is watching me, eyes narrowed.

“People die in this world, brother,” he says, when I glare at him.

“He was a goddamn civilian.”

“He stole from us,” Nikolai says flatly.

“Are you saying you were behind this?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Nikolai snaps. “We’ve been looking for him. How could I be behind this? If I’d found him, I would’ve told you. Or maybe this girl has twisted your head up that much. Maybe she’s got you doubting your own flesh and blood.”

I rush forward, furious. Haul him to his feet and shove him against the bar.

“Keep her name out of your goddamn mouth.”

He smirks in classic Nikolai fashion. “I don’t believe I used her name, big brother.”

“You know what I mean.” I give him a shake. “You’ve been absent, distracted. And now this.”

“Let me go,” he grunts. When I don’t, he gives me a look I know well. If I don’t let him go, we’ll fight. Whatever else is happening, a fight with Nikolai is the last thing I need. We’re both skilled fighters and we love each other too much for it, anyway.

I release him. “Handle this. Get the police report. We need to know what happened. Conrad must be desperate if he’s resorting to this.”

“Maybe we pissed him off by hanging around his businesses instead of intimidating him.”

“Sort it out, Nikolai.”

“You still trust me enough for that?” he says ironically.

I clap him on the arm. A display of endearment, and a small explosion of rage.