Page 54 of Malevolent King

He grunted and rubbed his neck. “Well, it’s not just warm words. I can take the cuffs off you for a bit if you want.”

“Sure thing, big guy.” I wanted to test out his naivety and desperation.

Angelo undid the cuffs, and I let out a sigh that I felt down to my bones as I stretched my arms. My wrists were a mess, with deep cuts, bruises, plenty of blood, and signs of infection.

“That’s going to leave a mark,” Angelo muttered, staring at my wrists as well.

The dry chuckle felt good in my chest. “You think? Things that hurt should leave a mark so you always remember.”

Angelo swallowed, suddenly looking wary that he’d let me free. “Remember what?”

“Who to kill,” I said flatly. I studied him. “I know what you’re thinking. Now that you’ve freed me, what’s stopping me from taking your gun, shooting you here, and escaping on my own?”

Angelo paled in the dim light from the corridor.

I laughed, slapping a blazingly painful hand on his shoulder and giving him a shake. “Don’t worry, big guy. I’m fucking with you. I’d rather not get shot on my way out. I don’t mind waiting for a few days. I would like to know where exactly in this godforsaken place Sofia’s room is.”

Angelo’s face blanched.

I chuckled at his clear panic. “Come on, Angelo, surely you could have predicted I’d want to know that.”

“Sofia isn’t a bad person,” he started slowly.

“I never said she was, and I’ll kill any man who dares to,” I stated calmly.

Angelo gaped at me, clearly confused.

“Call my brother if you get service down here. I want to speak to him.”

Angelo rushed to comply. The familiar mantle of power and control slipped back over me with ease. It was jarring to be the prisoner and not the jailor. The whole situation was fucked up, yet I was already adjusting. Angelo handed me the phone.

“Well, what did he say?” Kirill’s voice barked out the question over the phone, sounding as grumpy as ever.

“He asked why the fuck you want to help him when you’re the reason he’s here?”

Silence met my glib words.

“So, how’s being boss? Did you get new business cards printed yet?”

“Nikolai.” Kirill’s tone was always the same for me: wary, exasperated. Uncertain.

I could hardly blame him. I’d cultivated his feelings toward me for years. I’d worked hard to be the crazy brother, the Joker, the uncaring killer without a heart. As soon as people thought they knew you, they underestimated you. You became someone they believed they could predict. Sometimes that advantage had been the only thing that had kept me alive.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m still alive if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Did you try to escape? De Sanctis was only keeping you for a week, tops. I cut him in on a fucking great deal with that understanding. Now, he’s claiming that you killed his men and demanding longer to deal with the added insult of showing up his security.”

I blew out a sigh. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“Niko!”

“What? You expected me to go like a little lamb to the slaughter? You might have won that round, and I admire you for it, but you should know I go down swinging every single time. If you didn’t want me to die in here, maybe you shouldn’t have given over your own brother.”

“What else could I have done? One of us had to becomepakhan.”

“You could have fought me and killed me like a man.”

Kirill was silent for a long moment and then cleared his throat. “Maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe I didn’t want our father to win one more time, pitting us against each other. Maybe I wanted to give him the finger to wherever he’s burning right now, like you always did.”

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