Page 71 of Shattered Empire (Shattered World)

“He isn’t right,Papa.” Right on time. Ivan strode through the large mahogany double doors with his head held high. His crisp black Bespoke suit was tailored to perfection, and he wore it like it was a second skin. He might have given up the luxury of being aBratvaprince, but he never forgot what it was like. “Uncleis just trying to manipulate you. Again.”

“Ivan.” A chair scraped against the wooden floor. Andrei was standing now. I could just make them out through the crack in the side of the door. The photos I had seen of Andrei must have been older. The man in Kirill’s office was more distinguished. Older. His dark hair was tinted with gray strands that hung in his face. His salt and pepper beard and mustache were neatly trimmed.

Andrei Tkachenko exuded power effortlessly, unlike his brother, whose power came from intimidation.

“Hello, Father.” He bowed his head in respect before lifting his eyes. The resemblance between the two was uncanny. The two were closer to brothers in appearance than father and son. Then again, they were only around twenty years apart, and Andrei appeared far younger than his age.

“What are you doing here?” Kirill spat. “How did you get past my guards?Guards!”

No one came.

There was no one left but me, and I wasn’t ready to reveal my hand just yet.

Let him sweat a little.

“No one is coming, Uncle,” Ivan told him quietly. “It’s time we had a nice family chat about everything you have done. Don’t you think?”

Andrei’s gaze darted back and forth between his brother and his son.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, his tone dipping.

“Everything you received is accurate intel,” Ivan told his father patiently. “It has all been verified by multiple sources. None of it has been tampered with or altered in any way.”

Confusion flitted across our father’s face. “How do you know about what I received?”

Ivan smirked. “I sent it.”

“You little fucking…” Kirill spat, but Andrei held up his hand to silence him. The man’s face turned an angry shade of purple, his beady eyes bulging from his head as he glared daggers at his nephew.

“There is so much you don’t know,” Ivan continued, his eyes on his father, barely acknowledging that Kirill was having a mini stroke next to them. “So much I tried to warn you about. But you were blinded by his perceived loyalty that you couldn’t see through the cracks in his façade.”

“He is my brother,” Andrei reminded his son. “The man who helped me avenge the death of your mother. If it wasn’t for him, your grandfather would never have fallen.”

“If it wasn’t for him,” Ivan sneered. “There would have been no war.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kirill paled.

I relished the look of fear on his face as it slowly dawned on him that he wouldn’t be walking away unscathed. Not this time. At my sides, my hands clenched and unclenched rhythmically. It was hard not to sink my fist into his pug little face.

“Your grandfather murdered your mother while she was pregnant,” Andrei insisted. He was blind to the truth. The love he had for his brother was strong, but I could sense his doubt. See it lurking behind his steel-cut eyes. “He had proof.”

“He lied.” Striding into the room, hands in my pockets, I kept my gaze on the man who had raised me. The man who had abandoned me without a second thought. He tore my family apart. Murdered my mother and left me to the wolves.

“Khristos,” Andrei murmured under his breath. Lips slightly parted. Eyes wide. He stared at me as if he was seeing a ghost. The ghost of my mother. There was very little of Andrei Tkachenko in me besides the color of my eyes and the mark I bore on my wrist. Otherwise, I was a spitting image of the woman who bore me.

“Impossible.” Kirill stared at me in abject horror, his face paling even further. “You’re dead.”

My gray eyes darted to his. “You should have realized by now how hard that really is.” I reminded him. “After all, you are the one who sent assassin after assassin to kill me since I was a child.Father.”

Andrei’s gaze swept to his brother. “You said he was dead.”

“He…he was,” Kirill stammered. “Father killed them both. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“The lies of a snake are the sweetest,” I sneered at Kirill. “Aren’t they?”

“He killed Antony, Andrei,” Kirill spat, straightening himself up. He would not go down lightly. Not without trying to take me with him. “I have proof of that.”

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