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Kirill heads straight to the control room. I take a few moments to compose myself before I follow after.
But even when I reach the area, I remain in the shadows, at the farthest point, while still standing in the same room as him.
For my survival, I need to avoid being the center of his attention as much as possible.
We find Yuri watching the security footage with some other guards. On one of the screens, Viktor is inspecting a package that was left at the doorstep of the staff entrance. A large duffel bag, to be specific.
“Rewind the footage to the beginning of the incident,” Kirill orders, then clicks the intercom that connects to the speaker outside. “Don’t touch that yet, Viktor.”
“Yes, sir,” comes the guard’s reply.
Yuri clicks a few buttons, and the images go back to five minutes ago. A black van screeches to an abrupt stop near the club, then accelerates to the entrance. A few guards shoot at it, but nothing penetrates it. Which means the vehicle is bulletproof.
The people inside the van shoot their own bullets, hitting two bouncers before the side door opens and the duffel bag is thrown out. Then they rev down the street at high speed.
Kirill perches beside Yuri and rewinds the footage a few seconds, then pauses at the moment the door opens. He does it a few times, watching and rewatching the moment the duffel bag was thrown out.
He lets it play again and clicks the intercom that connects him to his senior guard. “There’s a person inside the duffel bag, Viktor. If he’s not dead, kill him.”
“Yes, sir.” Viktor slowly opens the zipper and everyone, including me, focuses on the picture that Yuri projects on three large monitors.
Viktor pauses when he gets a view of the person. The only thing we see from the camera’s angle is a head and short bloodied hair.
“Is he dead?” Yuri asks.
“No,” Viktor replies.
“Why aren’t you shooting then?” Kirill asks.
Viktor looks at the camera with a bemused expression. “It’s Mr. Konstantin, Boss. Should I kill him?”
Kirill actually pauses as if he’s really thinking of finishing his younger brother’s life. Then he casually says, “No need. Take him to my office, and make sure he’s conscious when I get there.”
He doesn’t wait for Viktor to reply and stares at Yuri. “I want you to strengthen the security while you figure out who’s behind that van.”
“I don’t think they will come back…” Yuri trails off when Kirill looks at him pointedly. “On it, Boss.”
He starts to leave the control room, but he stops at the door. “You’re coming with me, Lipovsky.”
My heart tightens with a strange sense of pain. It’s been ages since he called me that—since the army, to be more specific. I don’t care if Viktor does it, but it’s different with Kirill.
I don’t like to be called by the fake last name. It feels distant. Almost as if we’re strangers.
Still, I follow after, even while keeping a distance. I expect Kirill to pick up where he left off earlier, but he doesn’t even address me during the walk from the security room to his office.
The only part of him I can see is his back—broad, imposing, and…far.
He seems so far away right now. There’s always been a wall between us. Though it’s not disruptive, it’s there, highlighting the difference between us.
Kirill Morozov is a man of no morals. A monster with no limits. A beast in the form of a sophisticated gentleman.
There were times when I thought the wall was shrinking in size, specifically on the rare occasion when I thought Kirill was being kind. When he saved me and took care of me. When he protected my identity. When he looked at me as if I were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
I actually believed him when he told me I was gorgeous.
Now, I realize all of those moments could’ve been me trying to rationalize the hole I’ve been digging for myself, just to make myself believe that I’m different to him.
That maybe I hold a special place in his cutthroat life.
