Page 4 of Twisted Cage

What’s left of him.

He will know I’m no longer standing at his side in any way, and in the war to come—I’ve chosen.

His second son.

I will stand at Nikolaj’s side—because he’s the right choice.

And it’s the best way to protect her—the goddamn nymph seducing the ravenous crowd from the stage.

Devolving into delusions and mania, Maksim Romanoff’s reputation frays under the war between his sons. If he isn’t careful, his legitimate son and heir, Vladimir, will surely destroy his empire. The Romanoffs are one of only three Bratva families with origins dating back to the eighteen hundreds, and their vengeful and twisted first-born son is sure to ruin it all.

I’ve remained loyal to my best friend for thirty years. Three decades I’ve stood by my honorary brother’s side, even when he didn’t deserve it. When the woman we both loved fell for him, I conceded. When he repaid her love by marrying another, I stood by his side. When he bore children by both women and fostered animosity between his two sons, I kept my vows to our friendship. And when he had his little girl with the woman we both loved, named her for her mother, and asked me to be her godfather, I accepted my duty.

Even when I knew he did it to taunt me with what I could never have. His scathing jealousy and insecurity bled into our friendship until it ruled. The razor-sharp edges of his entitlement never failed to flay me wide.

I carry the scars of a life at his side, but it’s the scars no one can see inflicted by my best friend that still ache to this day.

Despite being indebted to him for saving my life as a child, I should have walked away. I almost did.

But the day I held little Nikoletta in my hands before the altar at Old St. Patrick’s Church right here in New York City, any chance I had of saving myself from a life of living in Maksim’s brutal shadow vanished. My vows before God—to be an example to her, to guide her, to protect her—became the final shackle tethering me to his madness.

Eighteen years I’ve done my duty. I’ve shielded her, advocated for her, nurtured her—and despite everything I’ve done, she’s here.

On display. Exposed. In more danger than she can possibly wrap that pretty little head around.

I want nothing more than to scoop out every set of eyes staring up at her, studying her, coveting her.

Her skin gleams and her muscles flex as she seduces a room full of ruthless killers tracking every roll of her hips.

Warring against possessive rage coursing through me, I force my hand open. My vision doubles before settling on the angry crescent grooves carved in my flesh from the violent dig of my fingernails. Pain I inflicted on myself the minute the hazy spotlight shone on her profile ripping the air from my lungs. The sting the only thing keeping me grounded in the moment and the worst of my fury at bay.

The sultry song fades away and a primal beat takes over, the sound wild and chaotic. Nikoletta’s fingers skitter over the ridges of her collarbone and settle along the back of her neck where she gives one tie a firm tug.

Goddammit.

The heavy drum of my heart echoes through me into my skull, dulling the lusty beat of the song pumping through the club.

“Ahhh, now there’s the look of a man who feels our Bee’s sting. She intrigues you, yes?”

The image of my fist crushing his nose, driving the cartilage and bone straight into his brain with a satisfying splatter of blood over my skin is the only relief from the seething rage boiling my blood. The betrayal of my nickname for Nikoletta rolling off his slick tongue cutting me to the bone.

The roaring in my ears grows, and my jaw aches from the force of my clenched teeth. She used my pet name for her. For a moment, I can’t speak. Of all the names she could have chosen… she chose one born of tenderness and love for the one light of my life. The need to punish her for sullying the purest form of affection I could give her engulfs me, leaving a red haze before my eyes.

“Where did you find her?” My voice is cool and even, despite the betrayal pumping through my blood.

“Why, she heard about my club, of course.”

Pompous fucker.

“She brazenly forced her way past my men and straight into my office. Demanded a job.” The slick son of a bitch leans back against the leather next to me like we’re the best of friends.

One thrust of my blade between the ribs and I could watch him bleed out right here as he struggled for air through the lung I gleefully punctured.

“Ah, yes, full of fire in those golden eyes, that one. She’s going to be fun to break,” Silas says with a nod as he crosses his ankle over his knee, going for the hard sell. “She stormed in, shook her sleek hair back, puffed those incredible tits out, all confidence and bluster. But I saw her, the innocence she tries to bury with false bravado. You see it too, don’t you?”

Step by step, she makes her way onto floor level. The way she moves to the animalistic beat, the slight hesitation before every step building the anticipation. She’s a maiden lost in a dangerous, unfamiliar world. Travel worn, desperate, but still she clings to her pride. The air drips with sex. Primal and hungry, the darkness ripples. Men devour her every move, shifting in their seats, leaning closer. A hand darts out from the darkness, clasps the strings of her top, and pulls hard enough she fights for balance.

I grasp for every shred of my training to override my intoxicating torrent of instinct and possession, and stay in my seat.

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