Page 132 of Kingmakers, Graduation

“Friends bring something to the table. Come to me with an offer instead of a threat and perhaps I’ll consider it.”

Koslov’s sallow face flushes with rage. He would love to punish me for my insolence, but he knows as well as I do that I possess a resource everyone wants. That gives me power. I build my allies by the day, as well as my enemies.

If he knew how precarious my position actually is, we’d be having a very different conversation. Luckily I’m not stupid enough to show the slightest sign of weakness.

“You speak to me as if we’re equals,” his seethes.

I’d like to tell him that I don’t see him as my equal at all.

But my father is close by, and that reminds me to practice at least some level of diplomacy.

Softly I say, “Time will show.”

I’ve barely seen the back of Koslov when Avenir Veniamin saunters over.

“Is he gone?” he laughs.

“For now.”

“Still salty, I suppose.”

“As a pretzel.”

Veniamin laughs. “You’ve already doubled his sales volume, and you actually pay me on time. The results speak for themselves. I’m hearing incredible things about thisOpus—I want the whole line-up.”

“It will sell just as well.”

I don’t tell him that I have literally no pills at the moment, and no way to make them.

Across the room, I see Sabrina speaking with Krystiyan Kovalenko. She’s gesturing with her hands, her face animated. He’s leaning in close, his thumb sliding slowly up and down the stem of his champagne flute.

Heat rises up my neck.

“Excuse me,” I say to Veniamin, cutting him off in the middle of more effusions on our future prospects.

I stride across the room, pushing my way through the crowd. When I reach Sabrina, I grab her by the arm.

“Adrik!” she says. “Have you?—”

“Let’s go,” I bark.

“Adrik,” Krystiyan gives me a shit-eating grin. “It’s been too long. I was just talking to your lovely partner here. It seems we can help each other.”

I turn on him, practically snapping in his face.

“Help each other? Like you helped Mykah? No fucking thank you. I wouldn’t take a pint of blood from you if I was dying in the street. I’d rather bleed out than have any part of you touch any part of me.”

“Mykah?” Krystiyan laughs in such a convincing way that I could almost believe him—if I were a fucking idiot. “You got that all wrong. I had nothing to do with that.”

“Save it. When your loyalty was tested, you showed everyone who you were.”

He doesn’t like that. His smile strains, pulled thin at the edges.

“Like when Ivan was taken …” Krystiyan says, softly. “And it showed everyone how weak the Petrovs really are …”

I step in close, close enough that I could rip out his throat with my teeth.

“And yet Ivan’s here today, at this wedding, because of what we were willing to do to bring him home. Someday you’ll learn the difference between a brother and a hired gun.”

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