F I F T E E N

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N I K O L A I

Moscow, Russia

I'd always known I had it in me, the ruthlessness of my ancestors wasn't something that could be erased by sending me to Seattle with my American grandmother. Keira didn't know much about my bloodline, or my involvement with the Chicago Bratva, and I'd like to keep it that way. This used to be the only secret of mine she wasn't privy to, but now that I think about all the lies between us, I'm forced to think if all we were was ghosts in the same bedeviled castle of dreams, forever fated to be nothing more than a haunting memory.

I might always be unable to forget my love for her, however, I'd always remember the hatred she injected in me in form of countless lies she'd been telling me for the years we'd been together. It was ironic, considering that I'd kept my secrets too, but unlike hers, their shadows weren't chasing me, rather I surrendered to the violence in my blood because she fooled me.

Keira had refused to break her vow of silence the last time she was with me, and while her unwavering loyalty impressed me, it also antagonized me beyond belief. After all these years, she just continued choosing power over and over again, not even bothering to take a second look at all the broken things she'd left behind. Two weeks ago when I'd kicked her out of my club, I promised myself I would stop seeking her for all the truths she'd been stubbornly concealing from me, and cunningly using the love that once tied us together to manipulate me so I'd start orbiting her again. However, I was past the foolishness called loving her, after all, it's in fire's nature to incinerate anything in its path regardless of the volatility of the wind around it.

So here I was two weeks later, knowing everything she wouldn't tell me anyway as Ivan had provided me with all the information about Astley, or more specifically, Angelo Esposito. I now knew why the Pentagon needed me, they wanted me to create a distraction by openly supporting these bastards. The Chicago Bratva's concurrence with them would force Esposito's hand, forcing him to air his dirty laundry. I hadn't figured out what they could accomplish by exposing the atrocities Esposito had committed behind the Outfit.

He was their Capo, staging a coup behind his back wasn't a child's play, and it certainly wasn't something the Pentagon could accomplish on its own. They were too insignificant to rattle the Italians, and there was no way the Pakhan in Chicago would agree with this asinine plan, not that he'd need much persuasion if I stepped in. There were endless possibilities as to how all this could play out, and I didn't want to waste the whole day planning for the consequences of something hypothetical at best.

Alexei barged in my office like he owned the place, and I found myself wondering yet again how he'd managed to stay alive for so long, "What is it?"

"I have two news," He grimaced, "One is unfortunate, and the other I'm afraid has the potential of making you murderous," I arched my brow, silently urging him to get on with his dramatics, "Which one shall I divulge first?"

"For fuck's sake, Alexei,"

"Alright, the unfortunate one first got it," His theatrics grated every last nerve of mine, and while I wasn't concerned about the apparently distressing news, I was curious about them, "Kyzer Knight showed up, willingly threw his weapons out, and wants to meet you. He says he has something you want. What the fuck is that about? I thought you were only dealing with one Knight by bedding her," He arched his brow, and I found myself ignoring his imploring gaze as I rubbed my jaw, thinking of all the possible reasons Kyzer would've shown up at my doorstep. I didn't believe he hadn't known about me and Keira, however, I was almost certain Keira forbade anyone from reaching me, afraid her secret would get a voice of its own and escape the prison of her lies.

𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 - 𝟏𝟖+Where stories live. Discover now