Page 55 of Inked Athena

“Only because I picked up the slack.”

Leonid inclines his head in acknowledgement and orders himself a bourbon that costs more than the entire meal Beckett and I just indulged in.

“How long have you been in London?” he asks.

“Not long. A few weeks.”

“And you didn’t think to inform me?”

“No more than you thought to inform me of your presence here.”

“The head does not inform the hands of its location; it gives orders and they follow.” He sniffles and raises his chin high in the air.

I snort. “Where is your other hand, then? Are you aware of his whereabouts?”

His jaw clenches. Half his bourbon disappears before he speaks again. “This feud with your brother has gone on long enough, don’t you think? How did this nonsense even start?”

“Thirty-something years, by the last count,” I say, still silently urging myself not to crush the tumbler in my fist. “And I believe it started around the time you decided to make me and Ilyafight over everything we got. Everything we were. Your idea of fatherhood was turning your sons into gladiators for your entertainment.”

“Is that your charge against me?” Leonid drawls. “Because I believe I made up for taking away your toys by giving you my empire. And look how you’ve thanked me for that.”

That, at last, gets a rise out of me. I abandon my vodka, leaning forward until I can see every line carved into his face by cruelty. “I will not dignify that with an answer.”

“If you didn’t want to talk, son, you should’ve stayed in your backwater hideout in Scotland.”

It takes all my willpower not to betray my surprise.

He knows. He fucking knows.

“I just needed a change of pace.”

One of Leonid’s eyebrows rises skeptically. “You did? Or was it your low-rent girlfriend who wanted the vacation?”

I slide my hands beneath the table before he can see them curl into fists. Before they betray how badly I want to wrap them around his throat.

“You’ve always been led around by your cock,” he spits. “At least Katerina had pedigree. Class. A sense of propriety.”

“No wonder she and Ilya got along perfectly.”

“Don’t make such a fuss, boy. He knows better than to continue any association with that backstabbing bitch. You, on the other hand?—”

“Nova Pierce did not betray anyone,” I interrupt. “She was a pawn. I’ve taken responsibility for her, and she is not your concern.”

He scowls. “Whoever my sons choose to fuck is very much my concern. Haven’t you learned anything from me? A woman is nothing more than a warm hole to stick your cock. Apart from that, they serve no purpose.”

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Father. Your wife is a lucky woman.”

“My wife knows her place,” he growls. “Can you say the same for that traitorous little cunt you’re seeing? She may be able to suck your cock like a cheap American whore, but she will never be worthy of the Litvinov name. She will never?—”

“Enough!” The roar rips from my chest before I can contain it.

My heart hammers against my ribs. Red bleeds into the edges of my vision. It’s taking everything I have not to flip this table and show him exactly what kind of monster he created.

He arches one eyebrow, daring me to say another word.

Unfortunately for him, I fucking dare.

The blood is pounding in my temples, but my voice remains as frigid as ever. I learned that from the best:him.

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