When I open them again, my room comes back into focus. That was weird. I need to eat in case some vitamins are missing from my body. I’m generally not the best when it comes to self-care.

I step out of my room and stop at the bottom of the stairs at the sound of hushed tones. I’m not one to eavesdrop, usually, but the two people speaking hold more importance than that principle.

My back flattens against the wall as I slowly peek around the corner. Kirill and Damien are standing toe to toe by the balcony’s door that leads to the garden. They either forgot the door was open or they don’t care.

Damien is shoving a cigarette in his mouth with clear detachment in his green eyes. He has flecks of gray in them when you look close enough, but they’re not visible from this distance.

His posture is nonchalant, but not hunched or completely detached. Damien is the type of person who’s always ready to punch someone here, shoot someone there, and bury someone somewhere.

Kirill, on the other hand, is an erect wall, standing with his hands lying limp by his sides. It’s the body language he usually feigns to make the other party believe he is approachable, harmless, even. That fox is cunning even when it comes to his body language. He’s fully aware of every move he makes, unlike Damien who doesn’t care what image he projects on the world as long as he gets to inflict violence.

The reason I’m standing here is the utter weirdness of the view. Damien and Kirill have never gotten along, not in Dedushka’s time and not now. They were always reprimanded for the endless fights they caused at the table.

Kirill leans more toward Igor and Adrian. Damien is a lone wolf who doesn’t get along with anyone—except for maybe Vlad a little. Well, and me when he wants to be a pain in the ass.

The fact that they’re talking one-on-one is suspicious. The absence of their closest guards who follow them like shadows is one more reason why I should be privy to this conversation.

Kirill readjusts his glasses with his middle finger. While they’re thick-framed, they don’t hide the intensity of his gaze. “What’s your deepest, darkest desire, Damien?”

“Aside from spilling your brains on the ground and pretending to mourn at your funeral?” Damien lights his cigarette and blows the smoke in Kirill’s face, fogging his glasses.

The latter doesn’t flinch or show a hint of annoyance. He doesn’t even remove his glasses to clean them and lets the smoke disperse on its own. “Yes. Aside from that.”

“Hmm. Why are you asking?”

“I might make it happen.”

“There, there, since when did you start to think you’re all that? If I want something done, I will do it myself. I don’t need your fucking help.”

“I’m faster.”

“I’m stronger.”

“Speed is more important, Damien.” His words turn slower, agonizingly so—taunting, even. “Surely, it’ll come in handy for your current quest.”

One second, Kirill is standing, and the next, Damien is grabbing him by the throat against the balcony’s glass door. I hide further behind the wall in case they notice me.

The gray flecks in Damien’s eyes that I couldn’t perceive earlier expand until they nearly cover the entirety of his irises.

The black bull.

It’s the side of him that only comes out when he’s on a violent spree. I contemplate going out there in case the crazy bastard actually kills Kirill, but the smirk on the other asshole’s face stops me.

What am I thinking? Kirill is well aware of Damien’s unhinged nature, more than anyone else. He signed up for this and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“How the fuck do you know about that?” Damien snarls in his face, pointing the lit part of his cigarette at Kirill’s cheek as if he’s planning to burn holes in it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went on with that plan.

“Does it matter?” Kirill pushes him away with what seems like ease but must’ve taken a lot of effort. He readjusts his glasses with deliberate slowness. “Something else matters more. Pardon—someone.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Kirill.”

“You can try, but that would be a waste since we can have an agreement.”

Damien takes a long drag of his cigarette and lets out a cloud of smoke. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Kirill smiles, dusting off Damien’s jacket. “Let’s get together in a more private place after the meeting.”

Shit.

I can’t lose track of their conversation after that. Kirill is clearly planning something. First, he got his octopus hands on Adrian, and now he’s going after Damien—whom I at least thought couldn’t be swayed.

My phone vibrates and I swiftly pull away to check the text.

Vlad: Sergei wants you in his office.

With a groan, I go back upstairs. Kirill and Damien won’t leave yet since they were called by Sergei. I need to figure out what they’re plotting, or at least Damien’s fixation. If I can get him that instead of Kirill, I can convince him to switch to my side.

I knock on Sergei’s door before I step inside. Vladimir and Igor are sitting with him in the lounge area. I nod at my supposed father-in-law, and he nods in return before focusing back on the paperwork splayed in front of him.

Vlad doesn’t spare me a glance. His jaw is tight and his beard appears thicker today, casting an ominous shadow on his face. He’s been in a pissed mood since I released Kyle that day, and he completely stopped talking to me when he found out I took Kyle back.

He tried to shoot him the following morning. Needless to say, Kyle got his own gun, ready to murder him as well. So I stood between them to stop their madness and told Vladimir he has no evidence against Kyle and, therefore, he can’t shoot him. Something for which Kyle smirked at while he pulled me possessively to his side by the waist.

“I don’t even know you anymore,” Vlad told me. “When you go back to being the Rai I recognize, come talk to me.”

That was about a week ago, and to say I don’t miss Vlad’s companionship would be a lie. If it were the old days, he would’ve been the first to help me brainstorm about Kirill and Damien.

Sighing, I greet Sergei by kissing his hand and then remain standing. “You asked for me?”

“Yes. You did well, Rai.”