Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Igor is the first to do so, followed by Vladimir, Adrian, and the woman.
Then, finally, Sergei himself.
When he raises his hand, Mikhail does, too, although reluctantly.
Konstantin’s face turns red, just like his mother’s earlier. All he can do is watch as Kirill topples his carefully constructed plans that he probably spent years devising.
“We won’t even need to wait for Damien,” Sergei says. “Welcome aboard, Kirill. Konstantin, I expect you to support your brother going forward. You can take your leave.”
“But—”
“Now.” There’s a nonnegotiable quality to Sergei’s voice that the younger Morozov has no choice but to follow.
As soon as the door closes behind him, Kirill takes his brother’s seat. “I apologize for his behavior. He still has a long way to go.”
“Indeed,” Vladimir says. “I trust you’ll keep him in check as you promised.”
Kirill nods. “You have my word.”
Oh, I see.
The pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place.
Kirill already had a plan A and a plan B. The first one was his mother’s kidnapping and making himself appeal to Sergei’s sense of loyalty and family.
But if that somehow went awry, he already had a plan B in place. Vladimir and most likely Adrian and Igor. He must’ve made some deals under the table, so they’d vote for him instead of his brother.
I stare at his back from my position behind him.
This man…is on another level.
And I’m genuinely glad to be on his side. I wouldn’t have survived if I were his enemy.
I’m starting to believe that he truly meant what he said. This isn’t simple ambition.
Kirill wants the world, not caring who he has to trample in his path.
I pay close attention to the meeting. Kirill tells them how he’ll improve his father’s legacy and even gives them his word about the percentage of profit they can expect from him this time next year.
One hundred percent. No shit.
By the end of the meeting, everyone looks at him through a new lens. He has a godly presence that demands both attention and weariness.
Some are apprehensive—Mikhail, Vladimir, and Rai. Others are appreciative—Sergei and Igor.
The only one who remains neutral throughout the whole meeting is Adrian.
There’s no sense of victory on Kirill’s face when we leave the dining room and head to the front door.
No sense of success or celebration.
He knew this would be the result all along. His level of strategizing is out of this world.
As we’re about to get in the waiting car, a tall, muscular man approaches us.
His shirt is barely buttoned, and his hair looks like he just got out of bed. But despite his overall disheveled appearance, he is anything but.
A sinister edge lurks in his gray-green gaze. It’s the look I’ve seen on the faces of soldiers who joined the army for bloodlust.
When he’s within touching distance, I slip in front of Kirill, hold up a hand against his chest, and say in my deepest, manliest tone, “Step back.”
The man’s deadly expression falls on my hand. “Why, aren’t you a tough little shit?”
He starts to twist my hand with ease, but I slip it out and manage to grab his and then twist it to his back.
Before I can pin it, though, he whirls around and punches me in the face, sending me flying against the pillar.
The breath knocks out of my lungs, and I cough several times as I feel a bruise doubling the size of my face.
In fact, I can’t feel my face. And why is the earth so hazy?
“As I was saying.” I hear the newcomer tell Kirill. “Are you why I was woken up so early? You don’t look that special to me. You sure you’re not supposed to be the accountant—”
The last thing I see is Kirill’s fist connecting with the man’s face before my world turns black.
20
SASHA
A low ache starts at the back of my skull and then spreads all down my spine. However, the pain pales in comparison to the scene in front of me.
I’m in a vast white field, frozen in place, as heavy snow blows over my coat and hair.
When I look down, Mike stares at me with blood tears in his eyes. The view is gruesome in the otherwise white surroundings.
I try to reach out for his little face and wipe away the blood, but I can’t move.
His small hands grab onto my coat as he whispers in a frighteningly haunting tone, “Save me, Sasha.”
I startle awake, breathing heavily as sweat covers my skin.
“Mishka…” I murmur, then frantically study my surroundings. There’s no indication that my baby cousin would magically appear and offer me his gummy smile that makes everything better.
Instead, I find myself in a familiar minimalistic bedroom. I look down and see that I’m in a loose T-shirt instead of the white shirt and jacket.
“You don’t look like yourself, Sasha.”
I slowly sit up against the headboard to be greeted by Kirill in his sharp black suit. The only difference from earlier is that he’s lost the jacket and rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, revealing the striking tattoos swirling down his strong forearms and teasing over his veiny hands.