Page 54 of Ruby Menace

Something is off.

Where are the guards?

As we reach the door, Kirill’s hand tightens on mine. “Dima is not here.” He’s picking up on it too. His eyes narrow and his nostrils widen, like a predator picking up on the smell of blood. I swallow hard and nod silently, my throat too dry to speak. He looks down at me, his dark eyes filled with concern and focus. “Stay behind me,” he says in a low voice.

I can feel the adrenaline pumping through me as Kirill takes a step and pushes the door open. And that’s all it takes to find out what caused the sense of unease.

As soon as we step into the foyer, my heart plummets. We’re looking straight down the barrels of half a dozen semi-automatic weapons. Men are everywhere, their guns at the ready. The walls and floors are peppered with bullet holes, chunks of wood and marble strewn about. My throat tightens at the sight of blood splattered on the creamy tiles.

No.

Kirill’s face darkens with anger as he pulls me closer to him. “What the fuck is this?” he growls.

One of the men casually steps forward, a smirk on his face. He’s short and squat, a toad of a man with a shaved head and tattoos on his scalp. “Welcome home, Mr. Vyronov. We’ve been expecting you.”

My stomach twists into knots as I put together what must have happened.

Petrov.

While Kirill came to rescue me with most of his men, the Petrovs must have come back here to take over the place.

Kirill probably had this figured out before I did. His hands are clenched into fists at his side I can see the muscles in his jaw working as he grinds his teeth. “Where is he?” he demands.

The man’s smirk widens. “Mr. Petrov waiting for you in the study.” With a gun aimed at Kirill’s head, he walks closer and pats him down. “I’ll take that.” He pulls a pistol from Kirill’s belt, then dips slightly and slides a hand down each of his thighs. When he straightens, he’s got a blade too. “This way,” he says, jerking his head in the direction of the hallway leading off the foyer.

Kirill stares down at the guy for a moment, before he starts to move. If looks could kill, this guy would be dying the most painful death in the history of most painful deaths. But instead of falling to the ground screaming in agony, he leads us through the mansion. We walk past even more armed men holding their guns at us as we head toward the study.

The closer we get to the door, the more my heart races. Fear prickles down my spine like a living thing. But Kirill looks completely unperturbed, aside from the tension in his jaw. I try to take strength from that, staying close enough to press against him.

Keep it together Tee.

You didn’t survive this long to give up now.

When we finally reach the study, our unwelcome escort pushes open the door. The heavy wooden door slides open, revealing a burly man sitting behind Kirill’s desk. He smirks at us, his rugged features twisted smugly beneath a shock of silvery hair. He looks like he’s in his late fifties, but his eyes are sharp and alert, suggesting he’s been around the block a few times. He’s surrounded by watchful armed men.

Vlad Petrov.

And next to him, looking cool and collected, stands Zoya giving us a wry smile.

Shit.

If I thought we’ve had enough to deal with for the day, I was dead wrong.

“Look at what the cat dragged in,” Petrov says, his voice dripping with false warmth. “And you brought your little suka too.”

Kirill slants Petrov a deadly look, then his eyes narrow at Zoya. “Why?” is all he says.

Zoya’s smile doesn’t falter. “Why do you think, milaya moya? I’m here to assist Mr. Petrov, of course.” She looks down at the burly man who’s still sitting behind Kirill’s desk.

Kirill’s hand clenches into a fist again, and I can see the rage building inside of him. “Fucking traitor,” he spits out.

Zoya shrugs. “What, you think I’d waited all those years for you to take me back? I know how to live with a man like you.” She puts her hand on Petrov’s shoulder. “You were just the wrong one, Kirill. I needed someone stronger. Bolder. And then I found him. Vlad is going to take over the Bratva, and guess who will be at his side?”

Kirill scoffs, looking from one to the other. “That’s some plan you two put together.”

Zoya steps around the desk and walks up to Kirill. She stretches out a hand and trails her fingertip down his cheek and over his lips. He shoves it away.

“Does that upset you, milaya? Knowing that you’ll never have me?” She slants a smug look at me. I know she’s trying to get under my skin, but I refuse to let her. I just shoot daggers at her with my eyes.

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