Page 97 of Twisted Tyrant


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LUKA

I stalk into my father’s office and slam the door shut so hard, the walls shake.

Even dead, my twin brother is still fucking with me. It’s like he’s flicking me in the balls, a taunting reminder that he’ll always hover over me like a black cloud.

Just like he did when he was alive.

“Luka, Mom doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Nikolai says in a low voice. “She’s doped up and delusional right now. You can’t hold it against her.”

“Yeah, so fucking delusional that she believes Dima is still the goddamn king.” I pull the paper with the combination out of my pocket. “She was completely blind to the fact that Dad sold Val to that shitbag Dmitri, and whatever the hell Dima was involved with that slapped targets on the backs of everyone’s heads. You know why? Because she spent her whole life kissing Dima’s ass instead of paying attention to what was happening right under her nose.”

“We still don’t know what Dima was up to,” Nikolai reminds me. “So stop bitching and crack open the damn safe.”

My jaw tenses as I walk stiffly around the desk and then sink to my knees. I open the bottom drawer of my father’s desk and pull it out of the wooden structure to expose a hidden door.

A quick turn of the handle reveals a small black safe. Dad had shown me where it was years ago, just in case something ever happened to him or Dima.

Then I ended up in the clink.

How’s that for a fucking twist?

I peer at the combination scrawled on the paper, twisting the knob on the safe left and right. The lock clicks, and when I open it, I’m greeted by a mess of papers stacked inside.

I grab the pile and thumb through the folders and loose sheets, searching for any clue about who the hell is hunting us. Most of the documents look to be business-related and legit. Invoices, statements, nothing incriminating.

Nothing that would justify a double murder.

I flip open one of the folders and pull out a single piece of paper.

???????? 7 is written on the top of the page, and below it is a list of names. Natasha’s name is first.

My brows furrow, a chill snaking through my insides.

Nikolai walks over, looking over my shoulder “What is that?”

“Brotherhood Seven,” I translate, rubbing my forehead. “Any of these other names look familiar to you?”

He grabs it from me, his lips pulled into a tight line as he stares down at it. I watch his expression tighten.

“Nik? What is it?”

He shakes his head after a long minute passes. “What does this mean?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“I have no idea. It’s not like there’s a document describing what these names have to do with the Brotherhood, or even what Dad and Dima have to do with it.” I pull the lid off of a box I pull out next.

“Fuck,” I mutter, thumbing through the thick stack of cash in all different currencies.

“Is this some kind of hit list? Was Dad involved in some kind of assassin consortium or something? Was Dima?” I pick at a loose sliver of wood on the edge of the desk. The tip cracks off and I close my fist tight around it, my jaw rigid. “Christ, was the wedding attack retaliation for a hit gone wrong? A hit this Brotherhood organized?”

“Brotherhood Seven,” Nikolai says. “Sounds like Dad wasn’t the only one involved.” His hardened gaze meets mine. “And Natasha’s name is front and center. What the hell does that mean? Why would Dima marry her if they were going to kill her?”

“Unless it’s not a kill list.”

“Then what else could it be?”

I shrug. “Maybe these are the people who needed to be saved from whoever the Brotherhood was battling.”

“From what? Who?”

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