Page 100 of Inked Adonis

“Don’t worry, Otets. I can fix this for you,” Ilya pants. “I can manage this crisis and put things right.”

I can practically see Ilya practicing these very words in the mirror last night, too.

I snort, barely resisting the urge to applaud his choreography. “Let me guess: You plan to fix this by taking over as CEO of Litvinov Group?”

“Someone has to!” Ilya spits. “You’re clearly in over your head.”

“Funny how this ends with you at the helm. That seems more suspicious than anything else you’ve shown us.”

“The only thing suspicious is your choice in women,” my father growls. “Fucking one Andropov spy is bad enough, but two? First, your whore of an ex-wife and now, this… this… dog-walker.”

He makes no secret of what he thinks of Nova. And it’s that, more than anything else, that dissolves what’s left of my calm façade. My hands ball into fists, and it takes all my willpower not to use them.

“Do you really think Ilya can run this company better than I can?” I ask coldly.

Leonid wrenches free of his younger son’s hold and adjusts his shirt, glowering at me like a mustang with a bit between his teeth.

“At least I can trust Ilya to keep his cock out of deceiving, manipulative whores plotting the takedown of everything I’ve built.”

Again, I have the urge to laugh.

It would be so easy to reveal my brother’s dirty little secrets right now.

It would be incredible to watch my father eat his words when he realizes his darling boy has been lying to him for years.

All those videos and pictures I’ve collected of Ilya and Katerina over the years… All the illicit meetings and devious plans…. I could lay out the truth of their affair and their plan to demolish the Litvinov Bratva from within.

Based on the way Ilya is turning a dangerous shade of green, he knows the power I wield.

“Yes.” I nod in agreement, my eyes never straying from my brother’s. “Trust is important.”

“You’re weak for women, Samuil,” my father spits. “You’re a sucker for a pretty face. I don’t know why I’m surprised. That kind of weakness comes from a weak man. And I can’t have a weak man at the helm of my Bratva.”

Sweat beads on Ilya’s forehead. The urge to destroy him buzzes under my skin like a live wire. One word from me and his whole house of cards collapses.

But unlike my brother, I understand patience. I know how to wait for the perfect moment.

Let him have this battle.

I’m playing for the war.

I lean back in my chair, letting silence fill the room. Letting Ilya twist. Letting our father stew in his righteous anger. They think they know what power looks like—shouting and throwing furniture and making threats.

They have no idea.

Real power is knowing you can end someone with a single word and choosing not to say it. Yet.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Probably Nova, wondering where I am. Sweet, fierce Nova who thinks she can fix broken men. Who looks at me and sees something worth saving.

I should tell her she’s wrong. That there’s nothing left to save. That loving me is like trying to warm up a corpse.

But I’m selfish enough to keep her. To let her try.

At least until I find out if she’s really betrayed me.

I rise from my chair, straightening my jacket. “If that’s all, I have actual work to do. Unlike some people in this room, I earn my position.”

“This isn’t over,” Ilya warns.

---