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“You laugh, but so much in life is about appearances. People want things tobeclean, they don’t want to see them be cleaned. It’s the same way people want to be secure, but they don’t want to see what it takes to make that happen.”
I clench my teeth. “If you try to justify killing Emily for my good again, I’ll kill you here and now. It’ll make it easier for the janitor to sweep you away.”
“I’m not saying anything,” he says. “Just chit-chatting.”
“Save your breath. Say what you need to say or—”
“In here.” He points to the next doorway. “Sound carries down these hallways. I don’t want any eavesdroppers.”
I follow him into the room, keeping my hand on the gun I stole from Noelle’s apartment.
It’s a generic office. A desk and a whiteboard on one wall, an empty bookshelf on the other. There’s no window, but a painting of a bear standing in a stream with a salmon in his mouth has the word “PATIENCE” written underneath it.
I’m sure that’s the takeaway from the bear’s perspective. I wonder what the salmon would have to say about it.
“I’m not going to waste your time explaining that I can help you secure your position as don and legitimize your claim to my throne.”
“Good. I’d hate to stab you twice for the same offense.”
He swallows, running his tongue over his teeth. “But you know as well as I do that allies don’t need to be friends. They don’t need to like each other at all. They simply need to have a shared set of interests.”
“As far as I can see, your only interest is in saving your own skin.” I shrug. “In that regard, our interests are diametrically opposed.”
“No, my interest is in peace.”
I bite back a bitter laugh. “Is that what you call murdering your own son in cold blood? Not to mention his girlfriend, too. Was it peace, Sergey, when you murdered Emily for learning about your secret bastard child?”
“I told you: people want to feel secure, but they don’t want to see what it takes to get there.”
I clench my fists. “I told you not to compare that to—”
“I’m only saying that I had my reasons. The status quo is a dangerous thing to upset. The Viktorov Bratva being in power—that is the status quo. It provides stability and peace. But Kreshnik Xhuvani has other ideas.”
“Ideas I’ll crush the moment I bash his skull in,” I grit out. “He isn’t a threat to me.”
“If you truly believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”
He realizes the danger of his words the moment he says them. His jaw shifts back and forth, nervous under the intensity of my glare.
“What do you need to say to me, Sergey?”
“I need to tell you that I am an asset. More than you realize.”
“How?”
“The men trust me.”
I open my mouth to respond. Then I notice the look on his face. The smug smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth.
“What the fuck did you do?” I growl.
“It was easy to get inside your mansion, Timofey. A man loyal to me convinced a younger guard to allow me inside for a visit. No one stopped me on my way up to your bedroom. They never even saw Piper in the backseat as I exited through the front gates.”
I’m across the room in an instant, my forearm pressed against his doughy neck. “Forget stabbing you. I’ll fucking gut you if you hurt a single hair on her head.”
Sergey has to stretch onto his toes to suck in a wobbly breath. “She’s fine… for now.”
“Is that it, then? You’re going to blackmail me into working with you?” I growl. “What happens when Piper is back with me, Sergey? What happens when your leverage is gone? How long do you think you’ll live, then?”
