VIKTOR
The Volkov estate sat on the edge of the city like an emperor watching over its subjects, too grand, too loud about its wealth. A labyrinth of polished marble and gold leaf, every corner screamed old money trying too hard to look timeless.
The main hall was already alive when we arrived. Silk-draped dancers moved in slow, deliberate circles across the floor, their hands painted in gold dust that shimmered under the low amber light. Music, something string-heavy and foreign, filled the air, blending with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of crystal.
Massive tapestries depicting old Volkov victories lined the walls, flanked by sculptures imported from somewhere that no one here could point to on a map. It wasn't culture, it was currency. Everything in this room was proof of power, and everyone knew it.
I kept a step behind Kairen as he moved through the crowd, every inch the unwilling prince dressed for slaughter. His shoulders were set, jaw locked, that familiar impatience vibrating through him like a live wire. The faint sheen of sweat at his temple told me the pills had already kicked in. His pupils were blown wide, and his smirk had that sharp, glassy edge of someone who'd forgotten what line not to cross.
Andrei Volkov made his entrance like a man accustomed to being worshipped. Tall, broad, with a beard sharp enough to draw blood, he moved toward us with the lazy confidence of a predator that never had to chase its meal.
"Kairen," he greeted, his accent thick, his grin wolfish. "You're even more handsome than your father said. A shame he couldn't make it tonight."
Kairen's polite smile didn't reach his eyes. "He sends his regards."
"Ah," Andrei chuckled, clasping Kairen's shoulder with a hand heavy enough to make a point. "He always does."
Beside him stood a woman, young, breathtaking, the kind of beauty that didn't need attention but demanded it anyway. Her gown was black silk, slit high on one leg, her hair gathered low with a diamond clasp. When her gaze landed on me, her lips curved slow, deliberate, promising trouble.
I didn't return it. I just looked at her long enough to let her know I'd seen her, and then turned away. The flicker of uncertainty that crossed her face was almost satisfying.
Andrei noticed, of course. Men like him noticed everything. "My wife," he said lightly, gesturing toward her. "Lena. You'll forgive her curiosity. She has a weakness for dangerous-looking men."
Kairen snorted, and I almost smiled. Almost.
Andrei led us deeper into the hall, weaving between tables occupied by politicians, industrialists, and the occasional criminal dressed as one. They all smiled too wide when they saw Kairen, clapped his shoulder, toasted to his father's empire.
Every one of them looked at him and saw Dimitri's shadow.
None of them saw the boy underneath, the one trying to drown himself quietly while the world applauded.
I stayed silent, scanning the room, counting exits, cataloging faces. Andrei's men were scattered strategically, three near the doors, one pretending to enjoy the hors d'oeuvres, another shadowing us just far enough to be forgettable.
We reached a velvet-draped archway that led deeper into the mansion, a more private section, where the real deals were made. I stepped forward automatically, but one of Volkov's guards blocked my path with a hand against my chest.
"Only invited guests," he said flatly.
My eyes flicked down to the hand, then back up. "He doesn't go anywhere without me."
"Not tonight," the man replied, unmoved.
I felt the tension coil low in my gut, sharp and immediate. "You can tell your boss—"
Kairen turned at the sound of my voice. Andrei leaned close to him, whispering something low enough that I couldn't catch, and Kairen's lips twitched, amusement, defiance, something darker.
Then he looked at me. Straight at me.
That subtle, satisfied smile curved at the corner of his mouth, sharp enough to draw blood.
"Stay," he said softly. "Like the dog you are."
The words hit harder than I expected. Not because of the insult, but because of the look in his eyes when he said it. A challenge. A dare.
The guard stepped aside to let them pass, and Kairen didn't look back again.
I could've forced my way through. Could've broken the man's arm before he blinked. But it would've drawn too much attention, and Dimitri hadn't paid me to clean up his son's messes, only to keep him breathing.
So I stayed.
Outside the archway, I reached into my jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. The smoke curled slow and silver, rising toward the painted ceiling.
"Like the dog I am," I muttered, exhaling the words into the air.
But dogs bite back.
The smoke was half-burned when I caught movement in my periphery.
Heels clicking softly, perfume cutting through the thick air.
Aisha.
I almost didn't recognize her. Dimitri's quiet little secretary was wrapped in black satin, her hair pinned up in an intricate twist that exposed the elegant slope of her neck. She looked softer, taller somehow, like a version of herself built to survive in rooms like this.
She didn't look surprised to see me waiting outside.
"Viktor," she greeted, voice smooth, practiced.
I flicked ash into a nearby tray and inclined my head. "Aisha."
Her eyes darted past me toward the closed doors Kairen had vanished through. "I'm guessing he's inside?"
"Mm." I exhaled smoke through my nose. "Playing politics."
She lingered for a moment, studying me, the cigarette, the slight slump in my shoulders, maybe trying to read something she couldn't. Then, without another word, she brushed past and disappeared into the same private room, her heels swallowed by the hum of conversation.
I didn't need to guess what kind of game they were playing in there. I'd seen every kind, boardrooms, back alleys, bedsheets, battlefields. Every place you could hide a lie, I'd been there.
All except church, maybe. Actually no, that was the worst.
I'd say a graveyard maybe.
When the silence stretched too long, I thumbed my earpiece. "Positions?"
"North entrance secure," came one voice.
"Kitchen hallway clear," another replied.
Good. Everything sounded boring enough.
I muttered something under my breath and decided I could afford a few minutes. My smoke was gone, my throat dry, and the ache in my spine had started to hum again.
The nearest sign pointed toward the restrooms, marble and gold like everything else in this palace masquerading as a home. I started that way, only to have a flash of movement intercept me.
Lena.
She stepped out of the same private room, the slit of her gown cutting up high enough to make a point. Her gaze caught mine briefly, unreadable, before she brushed past , her shoulder grazing mine, deliberate, light as a knife's kiss.
I huffed out a quiet laugh. "Of course."
Inside, the bathroom gleamed. A chandelier. Fresh lilies by the sinks. Even the damn soap smelled expensive. I did my business, washed my hands, and leaned against the counter, head bowed, water still running.
That's when I felt it, not danger, but attention. The kind that crawled up your neck and waited for acknowledgment.
I didn't turn. "You're not very subtle," I said dryly.
A soft laugh echoed behind me, low and throaty. "You noticed."
Lena's reflection appeared in the mirror, her smile curling like smoke. She walked forward, hips swaying with purpose, eyes glassy with too much wine or something else...
I straightened but didn't move away.
"You've been watching me all evening," she said, voice dipping into something close to a purr. "You and that quiet stare of yours."
"I watch everyone," I answered. "Occupational hazard."
She stopped in front of me, close enough that her perfume hit like a drug. Her hand rose, fingers brushing over the front of my tie, all the way down south.
"Andrei doesn't satisfy me," she murmured, eyes flicking up to meet mine. "He's too busy talking business and pretending he's still a man."
I arched a brow. "You always talk about your husband like that to strangers?"
She smiled wider, pupils dilating too fast. "Only to the dangerous ones."
Then she stood on her toes, tugging my tie until I had to bend slightly, her lips hovering just beside my ear. Her breath was warm, honeyed with alcohol.
"I know you're bored." She whispered. "I am too." she continued,
"So why don't we entertain each other."