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Leonid isn’t wrong. But liking someone else more than him doesn’t mean much. The bastard is insufferable.
“Just tell me whatever you want to tell me.”
“It’s fine. You were right not to ask. He died a boring death. Heart attack.”
“He seemed young for that."
“Genetics are a nasty thing,” Leonid tuts. “In this case, though, they might work in your favor. Hopefully, you’ll only have to deal with Sasha for thirty years at most.”
“Unless someone else ensures he dies a less boring death before then.”
Leonid laughs. “Already have ideas? Actually, don’t tell me. Plausible deniability. If he does get assassinated, you’ll be everyone’s first thought.”
I squeeze my temples. “I haven’t talked to Sasha in years.”
“Yeah, and many of us were witnesses to that ‘talk.’ You threatened the kid’s life for touching your woman.”
The image of his hand wrapped around Rayne’s arm sparks the same rage in me it did five years ago. I recognized the look on his face, the dark desire in his eyes. He wanted her, and he thought he could have her.
He had no clue she was mine.
“She was my maid.” I'm not sure if I'm correcting Leonid or myself.
He hums, clearly unconvinced. “Regardless, Sasha doesn’t have fond memories of you, either. I’m sure it would do you both good to bury the hatchet.”
“I don’t need to bury anything.”
In an instant, a movie plays behind my eyes. A flash of my brother’s blanket-wrapped body being lowered into a hole in the ground. The first grains of sand sprinkling down from my hand onto him.
No, there will be no burying. I’ve buried too much already.
Leonid sighs, pulling me back to the present. I blink and realize German is standing in the doorway to the living room. I didn’t hear him arrive, but by the look of it, he’s been leaning against the doorway for a few minutes at least.
“Fine,” Leonid says. “Sign me up for your side when the war comes, I suppose.”
“I can handle Sasha Lenin without a war. Trust me on that.”
“I don’t really have a choice but to trust you, do I?"
True enough. Leonid will never be in my war room. “Goodbye, Leonid.”
I hang up before he can respond. If it wasn’t clear already that we aren't friends, then it’s clear now.
German stands up. “Well, shucks. I came to tell you about Arnov, but that old snake beat me to the punch.”
“You’re slipping. I might have to replace you.”
My best friend waves me off. “Replace me with who? There is no one else.”
The empty third floor practically howls in silent rage.
German slaps me on the shoulder, refocusing my attention. “You also won’t replace me because while Leonid called merely to give you information, I’m here to check on your emotional wellbeing. Bros before foes, am I right?”
“Unnecessary.” I pull away from him. “I’m fine.”
German shakes his head. “You don’t need to lie to me, Kirill. I can see how much you’re hurting inside.”
“I’m not hurting. I can be in this house alone without—”
