Page 24 of Dark King Daddy

“You and Nikita have both decided to become idiots today.”

“We were always idiots. You were too busy being responsible to notice.”

“Believe me, I noticed.”

He turned in the chair and studied me. Arkady’s humor rarely improved anyone’s mood. That was not its purpose.

“When you’re Pakhan, you can punish us.”

The words landed harder than he intended.

Or perhaps exactly as hard.

Arkady looked back at the monitors. “Until then, you just have to suffer.”

I straightened.

The entrance remained clear. The guards remained alert. No one reached the third floor without passing three separate points of control.

The plan was sound.

My unease had nothing to do with the plan.

I had not seen Ksenia since Yelena’s engagement reception. I remembered the dark color of her dress that night. The set of her mouth while she watched my sister accept a future no one should have chosen for her. Ksenia had looked at me once across the room.

I had looked away first.

That had been easier than allowing myself to keep looking.

“Cars,” Arkady said.

Three black vehicles turned beneath Volna’s covered entrance.

Mikhail Orlov stepped out first.

I registered him, assessed the vehicle behind him, and watched Anton follow.

Then Ksenia emerged, and the discipline of the previous hour became theoretical.

Her dress was dark green. Long sleeves. High collar. Fitted closely enough that every step changed its shape against her body. Her chestnut hair fell over one shoulder, the light catching warmer strands in it.

I had seen her dressed for weddings, funerals, New Year dinners, and formal celebrations. I had seen her beside Mikhail often enough that her presence should have been ordinary.

There was nothing ordinary about her. Nothign at all.

Arkady leaned back in his chair. “Maybe the camera angle is fine.”

“Shut up.” And I went down to meet the delegation.

Up close, Ksenia was even more devastating. She looked at my face. Not past me. Not toward the entrance. At me.

Her hazel-green eyes narrowed slightly, as though she had caught me doing something suspicious.

Perhaps I was.

I went down the steps to meet them.

“Mikhail Mikhailovich.” I offered my hand.