Page 111 of Kings of Violence

And underneath all that rage, I feel the familiar hurt.

She was playing me.

She’s been playing me this whole time.

I grimace and wipe my eyes. I need to find Nikolai and Kotya to warn them.

When we get our hands on Sierra again…

I’m going to make her fucking regret all the pain she’s caused me.

TWENTY-SIX

Sierra

I don’t slowdown until I’m on the verge of entering the party proper, too afraid of what Yuri might do if he catches me.

If I’d thought he’d listen to reason, I might’ve stuck around. I might’ve pleaded with him.

But the three of them have never listened to a word I had to say, and they’re not going to start now.

Guilt gnaws at me as I start to slip through the crowd, glad my mask hides my red face and the fact that I’m panting, but I’m not changing my mind. I’ve been preparing for this every chance I could get — every moment I could send a message to Silvano and Kyran, every time I could plan my escape.

Why don’t I feel better? Triumphant, even?

Maybe it’s because this could start a war.

Maybe it’s because I’m already regretting it.

But they want everything from me. They want my body, they want my mind, they want me to be trapped with them forever. They’re so fucking obsessed with me that I can’t make a move without one of them right there to make sure I obey.

Now my mother is at risk. My brother. My niece and nephew and their mother.

Even Sean, who’s behind bars.

Everyoneis at risk because I decided to put myself above their well-being. It doesn’t matter that Silvano had agreed to help me even knowing what the cost might be. The gravity of the situation is almost more than I can stand… but it’s too late now.

I spot a discarded mask next to a chair, and I trade the one I’m wearing for that. There’s a simple white cardigan there too, and I grab it, not feeling at all guilty about taking some poor woman’s clothes. If she wanted it, she shouldn’t have left it lying around.

Now that I’m slightly disguised, I scan the crowd. You’d think that Kyran, being over six feet tall, would be easy to spot here, but apparently the mafia just breeds big men. At least I can rule out anyone with a beard.

I finally spot him, wearing a suit that I know he didn’t pick out. He’s standing next to a lithe, blonde man who makes Kyran look downright thuggish with how elegant he is.

I pull on the sweater and run a hand through my hair to tousle it and try to work out some of the elaborate curls, approaching them as quickly as I can without being in an all-out run.

“Kyran,” I say, tears springing to my eyes as I throw myself against him in a hug.

He grunts in surprise, but he wraps his arms around me. “Fuck. Are you okay? What happened?”

I take a moment to enjoy the small sense of safety he offers. He’s my big brother, and no matter our differences, I know he’s always going to be there to protect me.

“Not here,” Silvano murmurs. “Too many ears.” He places a hand on Kyran’s shoulder and nods towards one of the doors to the ballroom—thankfully not the one I’d just come through.

Kyran grabs my hand like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear, and all of the mixed feelings I’ve had about my brother over the past several weeks vanish. They’ll come back later, of course. Right now, though, I don’t have the time to be wishy-washy about him or Silvano.

I follow them to the room, fighting the urge to look over myshoulder and look actively suspicious, and it’s only once we’re inside with the door closed behind us that I take in a real breath.

“I’m fine,” I tell Kyran, even though I’m far from fine.

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