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I raise a brow. “You know exactly who I’m talking about, Viktor.”
I would swear he’s about to roll his eyes, but he stops himself at the last second. “He’s buggered off somewhere. Apparently, dainty Lipovsky didn’t like sleeping sandwiched between Maksim, Yuri, and the others.”
“Sandwiched?” I repeat slowly.
“Like back in camp.” Viktor matches my tone and then narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason why Lipovsky is the topic of discussion?”
“I’m assigning him to be my night guard.”
“That impulsive fool?”
“He’s learning.”
“But I am your guard at all times.”
“Don’t be jealous. Besides, you can’t be awake at all times or you’ll be inefficient.”
“I don’t like this, and I don’t trust him. He’s new, looks suspicious most of the time, and I’m seventy percent sure he’s hiding something.”
“Now, you’re being paranoid.” I teasingly push him with my shoulder, then head to the stairs. “Tell Maksim to fetch him. Actually, no. Make that Yuri.”
I don’t turn around, but I can feel my guard’s eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. Viktor never liked Sasha—for all the right reasons.
He thinks she’s too weak to protect me, acts on impulse sometimes, doesn’t think of the consequences of her actions most of the time, and she behaves suspiciously.
Not to mention she has an infuriating habit of talking back.
These are valid points that I should probably pay more attention to, but I don’t.
It’s not because I trust Sasha. On the contrary, I do believe that she’s hiding more than her gender.
And because I have my suspicions about her, I have to keep her closer now more than ever.
“He’s doing this on purpose to fuck with our heads.” My brother’s voice reaches me as I get to the bottom of the stairs.
Yulia, who’s dressed like a queen in some dark red dress, lifts her nose higher in the air. “And you’re letting him get inyourhead. You will never win against Kirill if you keep rising to his provocations.”
“You’re right, Mother.” I stroll inside, a hand in my pocket and looking absolutely nonchalant. “He’ll never win. The rest of the sentence is redundant.”
My brother, who can’t control his temper to save his life, pushes off his seat, eyes blazing. “You think your games could affect me?”
They already are, fool.
I ignore him and stare at a composed Yulia. If she didn’t blink, one would think she was a statue.
“To what do I owe this morning’s meeting?” I ask.
“While it’s true that your father named you as the head of the family, that won’t be possible if we vote you out.” She pauses. “We’re here to do just that.”
“Are you sure, though? Konstantin here will only bring trouble to the family due to histantrums—to put it mildly. He’s not leader material. You know it, he knows it, and everyone in your family knows it, too, considering the worried phone calls I’ve received since I landed here.”
“You fucking—” Konstantin lunges in my direction, but I swiftly grab him by the arm, turn him around, and twist it against his back.
“Down, boy.”
That only makes him thrash harder, but he doesn’t manage to free himself from my hold.
“As I was saying.” I meet Yulia’s stonelike gaze and throw her favorite son in her direction. “Not leader material.”
