I’m in the middle. A Russian bastard of sorts.

Two other members join us. The first is Rai, Sergei’s grandniece, the previous Pakhan’s granddaughter, and the only woman who has enough balls to barge into a brotherhood meeting.

She’s now a regular, even though she’s three months pregnant. Her belly is starting to show, but that doesn’t deter her from coming in here like she has every right to.

She doesn’t. And if she were any other woman, she would’ve been banished, but her relation to the previous and the current Pakhan keep most of the men here from effectively kicking her out.

It might also have to do with her husband, who’s sitting by her side. He’s a hitman—a sniper, at that—and everyone knows not to provoke him, especially when it comes to her.

The reason I want to shoot her between the eyes isn’t due to her being a woman, or because she’s been actively trying to eliminate my spies from V Corp, the brotherhood’s legitimate front in which she’s the executive director. It’s because she meddled in something she shouldn’t have.

She’s the reason I lost Lia, and I won’t stop until I know why.

As Sergei talks about our recent clash with the Irish and a possible truce with their new younger leader, I keep staring at the empty chair on his left. Vladimir’s.

He doesn’t miss meetings. I do. So his absence not only confirms Kirill’s words, but it also means that Vladimir is going above and beyond for this.

“What do you think, Adrian?” Sergei asks me.

“The Irish won’t accept an alliance this soon after our recent dispute. We killed many of their men and that doesn’t go away by a mere change of leadership. We should give them time,” I say, as if I’ve been listening to everything they’ve been talking about. I excel in the art of deception. I have since I was a kid.

My parents made sure of it.

After a nod from Sergei, the meeting goes on about some strategies that I let filter past me. I’m waiting for a chance to ask about Vladimir without being obvious about it.

While my system is efficient, Vladimir knows about it and, therefore, he’s able to evade it. Not entirely, but even that small gap is enough to distort my course of action. I can’t make any decisions before I know what he’s up to. Otherwise, they’d be ineffective stabs in the dark that could—and would—backfire against me.

As soon as Kirill mentions something about a drug shipment aid, I take a sip of my drink and speak casually, “Shouldn’t Vladimir help?”

“Vladimir is busy with something else,” Sergei says with a dismissive hand. “Damien, you help.”

“But that’s boring, Pakhan,” the latter whines like a kid who can’t play with his toys—aka guns.

“Are you telling me no?”

“Of course not. I’m happy to be of service.” He sighs and retrieves a cigarette, then mutters under his breath to Kirill, “Fucker.”

Kirill merely smirks as he adjusts his black-framed glasses with his middle finger.

“What is Vladimir busy with?” I ask flat out, to which Kirill raises a brow. He knows I don’t prefer direct conflict unless it’s absolutely necessary.

“You’ll all know when I allow it.” Sergei stands, signaling the end of the meeting. “We’ll talk more on Igor’s birthday that I’ll be hosting in his honor. Everyone is invited.”

“Yes, Pakhan.” All the others agree.

Instead of leaving, Sergei faces me, fixating on me with a solemn expression. “Bring Lia, too.”

“She’s been unwell,” I say calmly, even though a part of me is inching to an ignition point.

“She can’t be too unwell to attend the birthday of Igor by the invitation of the Pakhan himself.” He figuratively twists my arm with his purposeful words.

“Yes, Adrian.” Rai joins her granduncle, speaking in perfect American. “Bring Lia. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

I don’t miss the way she says ‘a lot.’ I could bring my gun out, shoot her and her granduncle in the face, and torture her guards for answers. But that would get me killed by the rest of the men here or their guards, and I can’t die just yet.

“Make sure she’ll be there,” Sergei orders in a tone that doesn’t allow for negotiations.

“Yes, Pakhan,” I say nonchalantly, almost as if I’m completely fine with the prospect of bringing Lia when she’s not ready at all.

Sergei leaves, followed by everyone else except for Kirill, who deliberately stays behind. It’s only the two of us, Kolya, and his senior guard, Aleksander, who’s tall but slim and has the face of a woman or a pubescent teenage boy.

Kirill readjusts his black-framed glasses, his lips moving in a sardonic smile. “Asking about dear Vladimir was reckless, Adrian. I don’t know you to be reckless.”

“Sometimes, the best defense is a good offense.”

“And sometimes, straight out offense makes you show all your cards.”

“You don’t need to worry, Morozov. I have more cards to reveal.”

His lips tilt in an ugly smirk. “Don’t threaten me when I can be your ally, Adrian.”

I rise and Kolya moves on standby beside me. “I don’t need allies.”

“That’s what you say now, but there will be a day where you will change your mind.”

“Doubt it.”

“You want to bet?”

“Try again in ten years, Morozov.”

He chuckles. “Save my number, Volkov. You might need it.” His voice echoes after me as I head to the entrance.

As soon as I’m in the car and Yan drives out of the property, I tell Kolya, “I want eyes on Kirill.”

“We already have someone who’s following him.”

“I want someone else. Make it three people if need be.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Aleksander, too. Follow him.”

“Consider it done.”

“What happened?” Yan meets my gaze through the rear-view mirror, then slides it to Kolya before focusing back on the road.

I tap my finger against my thigh. “Kirill knows something, or else he wouldn’t be acting smug.”

Silence falls on the car before Yan says in a low voice, “Do you think he knows about Mrs. Volkov?”