I wasn’t a total asshole, and even though I outranked him in here as well as out there in the real world, I didn’t assert my right. Kyrill wasn’t simply an ally; he was my best friend and loyal to death.
I valued loyalty, perhaps above all else.
“Thanks for handling him. I’ll be taking these.” My second-in-command plucked the two envelopes out of Ferguson’s grip, every syllable dripping with condescension.
Kyrill’s accent was much thicker than mine as he had actually grown up in Russia. I watched with amusement as the prison guard took a tiny step backward. None of them liked dealing with my friend — another reason why they made an effort to stay on good terms with me.
Because when Kyrill saw red, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him. Occasionally, though, I was able to get through to him, and the guards knew as much. Things usually ended with far fewer bruises and broken bones when they left him in my hands.
Assuming I got through to him, that is.
If I didn’t, well, they’d better hope they got out of his reach quickly.Whoops.
“Now, shoo.” Kyrill dismissed Ferguson with a sneer. I saw the guard’s jaw clench, but he had a better rein on his emotions and simply turned, scampering off.
My friend’s deep, amused chuckle followed him out of our cell. Kyrill glanced down at the letters in his hand, examining them.
“This one’s for you,bratan.”
The envelope landed soundlessly on my chest and then he heaved his massive frame up onto the creaking bunk once more.
Huh. In the ten years I’d been locked up in Blackwood, I’d never received any actual mail. Anyone who knew me and wanted to contact me could do so via the cell phone, which was currently concealed in a stash built into the bed frame, so there was usually no need for this form of communication.
The paper crinkled between my fingers as I raised the envelope to examine it. An unfamiliar sensation shot through me as I realized it washerreply. I sat up, swung my legs off the edge of the bunk, and slowly tore open the envelope to take out the letter.
With my elbows braced against my thighs, I leaned forward to read Adelaide’s reply. The corner of my mouth curled up involuntarily, and I realized my eyes were literally flying across the page, devouring her words.
This was unexpected.Shewas unexpected.
I wasn’t necessarily a fan of surprises or unknown variables. If I hadn’t already been convinced of this girl’s potential for disaster, this letter would have confirmed it.
How can one person be so unlucky?It was amiraclethis woman wasn’t dead yet.
I cracked my knuckles, crumpling the paper slightly in my fingers. I read her letter again, trying to sort through the emotions it evoked.
Amusement, worry, sympathy and something else I couldn’t quite identify yet. Again, very unexpected and not entirely welcome.
Usually, I had a pretty good grip on my emotions. I’d long since outgrown the hotheadedness of my teenage years — one of which had landed me in this place. These days, I was known for being calm and collected. Unless you crossed me, of course.
I ruled my kingdom with an iron fist because I’d learned my lesson. The choices you made determined your path, and sometimes they were irreversible. Control was everything.
Growing up, I knew the importance of names and how having the right one could open many doors. I didn’t have a single fucking thing. There was no one coming to my rescue, no second chances and no lifelines. No fucking way out.
Once you accepted that, life in here got a lot easier, and while I didn’t have the right name, I had the right blood.
When I was barely eighteen, still a free man, my mother had tried to keep my uncle as far away from me as she could. Once the prison gates had slammed shut behind me, though, her well-meaning yet misguided attempts at protecting me stayed locked away on the other side.
They found me in here —hefound me — and I skidded from one pivotal, life-changing moment straight into the next. This one, however, wasn’t a burden or another sentence but a gift.
A chance I seized so fiercely and unapologetically, it changed my life’s trajectory.
I’d fought, manipulated, lied, stolen, and ultimately triumphed. Blackwood wasmyprison. My motherfucking castle, and I was its king.
At least for now.
Which reminded me, I needed to talk to Hunter later. I made a mental note to send him a message through our encrypted chat once it was safe to retrieve my phone.
Tucking the letter under my pillow — not because it was special, but because I had nowhere else to put it — I laid back down and closed my eyes.