Page 12 of Ruthless Bratva King

Veronica peers over my shoulder. “Could be a clue. Maybe your dad was hiding a secret lair.”

I snort. “Yeah, because he was definitely the supervillain type.”

“Hey, stranger things have happened.” She thumbs over her shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. “I gotta pee. Back in a minute.”

I pile up the sketchbooks on the coffee table in the lounge, my eyes flicking back to the scrap of paper. Could that address mean something?

It stares back at me as if daring me to figure out its significance.

I shake my head. “It’s probably nothing,” I mutter under my breath.

The sound of the front door clicking is so soft I almost don’t notice it, but when it eases open with a creak, every nerve in my body goes taut.

I look up in time to see Dmitri walking inside. He moves with practiced ease, slipping a set of lock-picks into his jacket pocket.

A sharp gasp escapes me before I can suppress it, and his face splits into a smile when he sees it’s me.

“Good morning,moya lisitsa,” he says smoothly.

Outrage overtakes my shock. “What the hell are you doing here?” I snap.

For a moment, he simply stares at me, his expression unreadable. Then, he glances toward the bathroom, as the sound of the toilet flushing reaches us both.

“You have company?” he notes, his tone neutral.

“Yes. My best friend. He’s six foot six and carries two shotguns.”

He sniffs the air, a flicker of amusement flashing across his face.

“He smells divine. Is that Nina Ricci?”

I hesitate for too long, piqued by his mocking smile. “How do you know it’s not my perfume?”

“Trust me—I know.”

This is as ludicrous as it is dangerous, but it’s hard to focus with him standing there, larger than life and entirely too calm.

He takes another step forward, and for a fleeting moment, I think he’s going to say something else.

“You’re a talented architect,” he says after a beat, his voice softer.

I blink. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t it. “What?”

“You heard me.” He gestures toward the sketchbooks. “You should study it. If this is what you’re capable of now, imagine what you could do with proper training.”

Veronica’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “That’s what I’ve been telling her!”

I whip around to see her standing in the bathroom doorway, an accusatory finger pointed at me. “See? Even the brooding cat burglar thinks you should go for it!”

Dmitri’s expression hardens slightly, though I catch the faintest twitch of his lips.

“Why did you break in here?” I demand, bringing the focus back to him. “Come back to carve some more threatening messages in the wall?”

He tilts his head, his gaze narrowing. “It’s better if you don’t know why I’m here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

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