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I stare up to find Kirill looking down at me before he and Damien casually occupy the chairs across from me.
In the past, I would’ve been wary of them—scared, even. They’re both tall and broad men and their reputation is only of violence, torture, and bloodlust. But after living with Adrian for all these years, I realize that they could never be as terrifying as he can get sometimes.
“The woman of the hour?” I ask Kirill.
“The ever-so-reserved Adrian was ready to give up his life for you. What do you call that?”
“What is Adrian doing with Sergei?” Damien takes a sip from a glass of what I’m sure is vodka that he brought with him. “Is there some action I need to know about?”
“I…don’t think so.” I bring the glass of champagne to my mouth.
Kirill adjusts his glasses, staring at me intently. “You’re surprisingly…more.”
“More what?” I ask.
“More everything, though I suspected that Adrian was putting on an act when it came to you.”
“You did?” Damien wipes the droplets of vodka off his upper lip.
“Of course. Not all of us are idiots.”
“Who are you calling a fucking idiot?” Damien clenches his hand in a fist. “Want to go outside and test that?”
“You probably shouldn’t,” I say absentmindedly, watching the stairs, hoping Adrian will appear, already. “Kirill might not resort to violence, but he was some sort of a captain in the Special Forces and I heard that’s a big deal in Russia.”
Silence greets me and I glance back to find both men staring at me with peculiar expressions.
“What? Just because I wasn’t talkative, doesn’t mean I don’t know these things.”
“Add this fact to your list of things to know, Lia.” Damien grins. “I can still kick Kirill’s ass and beat him the fuck up.”
“Or that’s what you wish.” Kirill smirks. “You heard Lia. Just because I don’t use violence, doesn’t mean I can’t. I merely leave brute force to fools like you.”
“Who are you calling a fucking fool?”
Damien and Kirill continue their bickering, but my attention breaks from them when I notice something happening around me.
First, Lazlo left his circle and headed in the direction of the bathroom. His brother, Nicolo, followed soon after, though in a different direction. Then several Italian guards left their positions and scattered. It could be my paranoia, but I’ve learned from Adrian how to recognize a pattern. They might not have gone together or to the same place, but there’s something going on.
He’ll answer to me.
My father’s words from earlier cause me to spring to my feet. Damien calls after me, but I’m not hearing him as I quicken my pace up the stairs, ignoring the pain from the heels.
By the time I reach the top, I see Lazlo, Nicolo, and the others forcing Adrian into one of the rooms.
I break out into a sprint and barge inside before they can close the door.
“Stop it,” I speak to Lazlo with a firm voice. “You promised.”
“Lia, leave,” Adrian tells me with a closed off tone.
“No.”
“We’re only having a chat,” Lazlo says.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you.” I kick the door shut. “After all, I’m the main reason behind this.”
“You’re not.” Lazlo glares at Adrian. “His lies are.”
