Page 66 of Twisted Kings

Landon coughed, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “You’re next, wifey.”

I was kind of done with this game, but I pushed on. “Never have I ever had a birthday party,” I announced, having run out of ideas. All of them, apart from Dario, stared at me in horror.

“What? Never?” Landon’s jaw dropped while Cassian stayed silent.

“Tell me when your birthday is,kotenok, and I’ll make sure you have the biggest, best cake ever.”

Embarrassment made my shoulders curl inwards. Why had I revealed something so dumb? Birthdays were stupid. While I’d tried my best to ensure Verity had a cake, my birthday was always an afterthought. Dad never remembered, and most of the time, I was busy doing shit for him or Torrance.

I had no memories of my mom celebrating it either, probably because our life was too fucked up even then.

“I tried to bring you a cake when you turned 13,” Dario said in a soft voice. “But then Dad told me Francesco had sent you away somewhere. And it was the same every year after that.”

“Yeah… Torrance loved to make sure I was busy on my birthday.” Busy doing awful things, mostly.

“When is your birthday?” Cassian asked softly.

“July 25th.” He nodded and tapped away on his phone.

“I don’t want anything. It’s just a day,” I warned them. “And besides, I’ll probably be dead by then.”

They all turned to stare at me in horror.

“You’re not dying on my watch,” Kyril snapped. “So get that fucking idea out of your head.”

“We can’t stay here indefinitely, and once we leave, Torrance will find me.”

“No, we can’t,” Cassian agreed. “Which is why I’m organizing somewhere else for us. Somewhere out of reach of your father.”

30

Kyril

“Somewhere else?” Thea asked before yawning. She looked shattered. It was time for bed. When she was less tired, I planned to have a conversation with her about why she thought she’d be dead by next July. The only person who’d be dead was that fucking psychopath who worked for Francesco di Luca.

“I’m looking at properties.” Cassian refused to say anything else, so after a few minutes of prodding, Thea gave up, leaned into me, and closed her eyes. The guys all looked at us with a mixture of jealousy (Dario and Lan) and understanding (Cass and Milo).

None of us addressed the elephant in the room. Namely, that Thea assumed her days were numbered.

“Time for bed, kitten,” I murmured as Cassian refilled his shot glass and swiped away at his phone.

She didn’t protest when I scooped her up into my arms. I still couldn’t believe she’d never had a birthday party. Even I’d had them as a kid. Dad wasn’t the most loving of fathers, but he had tried to make it a fun day for me when my mother was still alive.

We’d had a cake, gifts, and he let me invite a few friends over. The kids whose parents worked for him, people who wouldn’t question the presence of armed guards everywhere.

Thea deserved everything I could give her. I had money. Lots of money. But I was beginning to realize material things meant nothing to her.

While she’d grown up with very little, she didn’t crave pretty dresses and shoes, fancy jewelry, or expensive cars. What she really wanted was to feel loved.

That I could do.

I’d had a few crushes when I was younger. My first kindergarten teacher, Olga, was my first. And Miss Balakin in high school. I’d always looked forward to her political science lessons, thanks to the tight gray skirts and white blouses she favored.

But those childish crushes were nothing to how I felt about Thea.

I loved her. Truly, madly, deeply. And I had a strong suspicion Landon felt the same way.

We were both nuts about the woman. I was crazy enough about her to go against my father, who was probably losing his shit right now at my ghosting him. Well fuck the old bastard. I fucking deserved a break from mafia shit.

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