Page 84 of Emperor of Wrath

The fuck? Kir never addresses me like this, or commands me.

“Excuse me?”

His Paul Newman blue eyes glint dangerously.

“I said sit, Annika.”

My brow furrows even deeper. There’s something about this tone—at least, this tone being used on me—that’s unnerving.

I walk over and sit on one of the sofas near the large black marble fireplace set into the bookshelves of his office.

Kir remains standing as he leans against the mantel and folds his arms over his broad chest.

“What’s going?—”

“You got involved with Ulkan Gacaferi?!”

Oh, fuck me.

I clear my throat. “What? No?—”

“Goddammit, Annika,” Kir hisses. “Do not lie to my fucking face.”

I grimace, my shoulders sagging.

“Who told you?”

“You, just now,” he spits.

Double fuck me.

“But I had a hunch before you just confirmed it.”

I grit my teeth and look away. “A hunch, or Isaak had a snoop into my personal business?”

Kir snorts. “The second you and Freya decided to work with that psychopath, you damn well made it my business, too.” He levels a withering look at me and jabs a finger my way. “That was fucking him the other night at Sota’s, wasn’t it?”

I shake my head. “I?—”

“I swear to God, Annika, if you lie to my face twice in one day, there will be consequences.”

“I honestly don’t know,” I say miserably. “Truthfully.”

“Full story. Now.”

I take a slow, deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

When I’m done telling Kir about the job we took for Ulkan stealing the Lambo, he stares at me like I’m insane.

I mean, he’s not far off.

“Valon Leka?” he snarls.

I resist the urge to flinch when I hear the actual name spoken aloud.

“You stole from Valon.” He swears viciously in Russian as he whirls and shoves his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, Anni,” he hisses. “You know we’re in talks to go into business with him!”

---