Page 27 of Vitaly

“No,” I answer at last, turning to face the girl. She lowers her wide, baby blue eyes to the rug and cups her hands in front of her. Sandy blonde hair is pinned back, which I’m sure she finds a damn shame considering how badly she looks like she’d like to hide.

I wonder what her job is. Upstairs, after taking out the guards, I found a whole room full of women in the servants’ quarters, or what used to be. Four sets of bunk beds worth of girls seems a bit excessive for cooks and gardeners.

Are they all whores? He keeps themhere, on site? Why?

Letting my gaze fall away from her, I wander to the desk and sit down in the high-backed, leather chair, letting my forearms rest on the sleek surface as I search for something that’ll help me with this next part. Nikita is on his way, so I don’t have much time before I spoil his shot at killing me.

I’ve been able to pick up a few things from afar about Nikita, even being as disconnected as I am. I have contacts who have contacts who claim that Nikita’s leadership is unstable. His ruthlessness makes him difficult to follow, and not all of his people are loyal.

Even without this information, I could’ve guessed as much based on him trying to kill me. If he wasn’t threatened, he wouldn’t bother. I paid for my sins the way my grandfather chose for me to pay for them, and there’s little part of me that thinks Nikita would try to kill me out of revenge.

He wants to kill me because he’s afraid. I’m a Petrov. But not only that, I’m Vlad’s son, therightfulheir to his precious throne. A confident leader would know his people had his back, that they would choose him over me, that my blood would cease to matter.

But he’s not a confident leader. And if his empire is as rocky as it sounds, killing his own nephew to protect what should be unbreakable loyalty is only going to make him look even weaker than he already is.

This is a hunch, but… I don’t think it’s the Bratva’s plan to kill me or that they even know about it. I think it’s Nikita’s own personal mission.

So my plan, the best one I can think of, is to simply bring them in on it. Let them choose where their loyalty lies and pay the consequences if I’m wrong.

My eyes roam to the girl. She hasn’t moved. Hasn’t even taken her eyes off the floor.

“What’s your name?” I ask, making my voice as soft as I can remember how.

How long has it been since being soft was even an option?

“Felicity,” she whispers.

“Could you come here, Felicity?”

She hesitates, closing her eyes a moment as if summoning bravery before cautiously walking over to me.

“Do you know any of the lieutenants’ names?”

She nods.

“Do you know any of them personally?”

Again, she nods.

“Are any of their contacts in that phone?” I point to the cell she called Nikita on. She bites down on her lip but doesn’t answer, which makes me think they’re in there, but she doesn’t want to say so.

Issheloyal to Nikita too?

I flip a piece of paper with numbers on it over and find a pen, then I scoot both toward her. “Could you write down the names of all the lieutenants you remember, please?”

I take the phone from her hand, and she reaches out like she wants to snatch it back from me, her wide eyes glazed with fear.

I consider telling her I won’t hurt her, but it feels like it would slow down my progress, so I keep my mouth shut and pull up the contacts on the phone. I should recognize at leastsomenames if they’re in here. All I need is a couple of lieutenants for word to spread.

Felicity picks up the pen and hovers it over the paper, her hand shaking so badly, it distracts me from my search.

Her face is twisted, pained. She looks like she’s going to cry.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone else,” I say, remembering the guards outside. Not all of them are dead. I aimed to wound, not kill.

“If I help you, he’ll kill me,” she says, a sob trailing her words.

He would?

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