“Enough!” Kirill roars, standing, silver-crossed cane gripped tightly in one hand. His knuckles turn white, his face the color of dark beet juice. This is the man I knew growing up. The one who easily lost control and when he lost control, he made mistakes. Just like he is now. “You know nothing, boy,” he spits. “Nothing about being the outcast. The bastard child. I worked just as hard as Andrei and was given nothing for it. Nothing. While Andrei got everything. So, I made my little side business and built my army.”
“I treated you like a true brother,” Andrei shakes his head disappointed. “Never once did I treat you as anything less than pure blood.”
Kirill sneers. “Please,” he rolls his eyes. “Father was right. You are weak. Allowing yourself to draw lines and enforce values. You were so drowned by your grief after the loss of that whore and her child. You made our father look weak when you married her. She was nothing. Her children are nothing.”
“I should have seen this sooner,” Andrei sighs deeply. There is a flash of anger behind his stormy eyes, but he is the picture of calm as his brother rips him apart with his words. “His influence over you was greater than I imagined. I thought…” He shakes his head lightly, never taking his eyes off Kirill. You never give the enemy a chance to catch you unaware and Kirill is now his enemy. “I was a fool to believe you were a better man than him.”
Kirill scoffs. “You only saw what I wanted you to see,” he jabs, his dark smile triumphant. “And now,” He lifts the gold embossed lighter from his desk and flicks the spark wheel. The flint ignites and I surge forward, ready to sacrifice myself for the father I never had a chance to know. We tumble to the floor, my body shielding his.
Nothing comes.
No pain.
No blood.
Chest heaving, I draw up, eyes scanning and alert.
Kirill growls and ignites the lighter again and again, but nothing happens.
“Fucking…” Glass shatters, raining down around me. I sweep my arm up to protect my face, the rest of my body still shielding the man beneath me.
“Boss? Are you okay?” Dima’s voice is panicked in my ear. “Boss?”
Growling, I stand, offering Andrei my hand. He takes it and I help him to his feet.
“We’re good, Dima,” I tell him. “Looks like we’ve got a guardian angel out there.”
“Well,” a soft voice filters in from the doorway. I turn to see Kenzi leaning lazily against the frame, her brown hair in a tight bun, clad in black from head to toe. “I wouldn’t say I’m an angel.” She shrugs. “But I definitely feel guardian-like right now.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Ivan spits as he draws his gun. Kenzi eyes it warily, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow raised at the man.
“Really?” She scoffs. “I’m pretty sure I just blew my cover for your ass.” Before Ivan can utter another word, Kenzi shifts. Her moves are swift and precise as she shoots forward, wrenching the gun from my brother’s hand, and disassembling it within a matter of seconds. “A thank you would be appreciated.”
Andrei barks a laugh from behind me.
“Leave it to Kirill to hire an assassin,” he shakes his head. “Man can’t even get his hands dirty to kill his own brother.” He spits at Kirill’s body. It lies slumped against the bookcases; head lolled to the side with a giant bullet hole straight between his eyebrows. “Could have merely injured him, though. Would have been useful to interrogate him.”
Kenzi groans. “Everyone’s a fucking critic,” she mutters. “You’re fucking welcome.”
Andrei smirks. “Thank you,malen’kiy ubiytsa.”
Little assassin.
It is fitting.
“I hope that wasn’t an insult,” she winks at him. “Because it sounds sexy.”
Andrei laughs, full and deep.
“He is right, though,” I sigh. “Whoever is running the Chameleon Agency, maybe even the Dollhouse, he knew who she is.”
“She?” Kenzi tips her head to the side. “That’s disgusting. A woman trafficking and using other women? Definitely gonna need to revoke her chick card.”
Ivan snorts. “We’ll help you revoke her life card, if that helps.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“We still need to figure out who ‘she’ is.” I walk to the other side of Kirill’s desk.