Page 37 of Crown of Hate

I hiss. “So you’re saying it could have been an inside job?”

He nods. “That’s the only explanation for what happened.”

I rack my brain, but nothing adds up. The Italians have no reason to attack me, unless someone gave them one. “Set up a meeting with them for tomorrow night,” I order. “Get yourself cleaned up and rest. You’re a bloody mess.”

Semyon nods, finishes his drink, and leaves.

“What now?” Ilya asks, his tone cautious.

I down the last of my drink. “Take Kira home. I’m going to check the warehouse for myself.”

Those weapons were worth millions of dollars. I don’t care if I have to go to the ends of the earth to find out who took them; I can’t just let this go. I’m striding towards the door when Ilya calls my name.

“Mikhail!”

I stop walking, but I don’t turn around to face him. My fury is so intense that the line between friend and foe is a little blur right now.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he warns. “Don’t risk your life.”

I ignore him and leave.

This is war.

12

ALYA

My eyes tear open as a loud bang echoes through the house. I sit up quickly, heart pounding.

For a moment, I’m lost in a fog of confusion. What was that? Where am I? What time is it?

Slowly, clarity returns.

I had stayed up all night waiting for Mikhail to come home. I’d been worried sick, and I can’t even explain why. The thought of something happening to him out there sends a slosh of panic down my chest.

Glancing at the golden clock on the wall, I see it’s past midnight. Someone must be downstairs. Could it be Mikhail?

Sliding into my furry slippers, I tiptoe out of the bedroom. The hallway is dark and quiet. I make my way down the grand staircase, my hand trailing along the smooth banister.

At the bottom, I pause and listen. A faint sound is coming from the direction of the bar. My heart skips a beat. Only Mikhail is allowed in there, especially when he’s not home.

I creep towards the bar and notice the door is slightly open. Moonlight spills through the crack, casting a silvery glow.Peering inside, I spot Mikhail sitting on a stool, hunched over, downing a glass of brown liquor.

I’ve never seen him look so distraught. The attack this evening must have really gotten to him. Losing twelve men and a shipment worth thousands of dollars would shake anyone… even a monster.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and enter inside.

In a blink, Mikhail vanishes. One second he’s there, the next he’s gone. A shiver travels down my spine.

Where the hell did he go?

I clutch my flimsy nightgown, a useless shield against the chill of fear seeping into my bones. He was there, I swear it. Did I hallucinate it? No, I couldn’t have—his half-empty glass is still there on the bar… I start to back away, each step a hesitant stumble, as I scan the shadowy bar.

My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure he must hear it, wherever he is. Or what if… what if it wasn’t Mikhail at all and it was just my mind playing tricks on me, making me believe it’s who I wanted to see? What if someone else has broken in?

The thought sends a fresh wave of terror through me. I keep backing up until I collide with something warm and solid.

Before I can react, I feel cold metal pressing against my temple. My breath freezes in my lungs and time seems to stop when I realize what it is—a gun.

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