Page 20 of Sinful Embers

“Holy fuck!” I spit as Nikolas rushes to the board.

“Jesus, kid.” Nikolas glances at her in amazement. “Why didn’t I see this before?”

“Because you weren’t looking at it with all the pieces,” Sabrina replies.

My eyes dart to the photo on my desk. “Fuck. I’ve just never seen the resemblance before,” I mutter. “Icy blue eyes… like glass.” I look at the unscrambled name again—I should’ve thought of it before:Dmitri Mirochin.

Nikolas exhales sharply. “There is one person who can verify that he and Carlos know each other or at least me.” His yes meet mine. “And to do that, you’re going to have to call your mother to confirm it.”

I nod, my mind spinning as I stare at the board.Dmitri Mirochin—it all made sense now. He must’ve been the one to kill my father and Uncle Gunther and it would explain why he’d take their rings. It also make the message he’d left in Olives blood make sense—Dmitri always thought the Mirochin Bratva should’ve been his.

Chapter 7

LEIGH

The world sharpens into focus, slow and disorienting, like surfacing from a nightmare. My head throbs—a dull, relentless pulse behind my eyes, pounding with every heartbeat. The cold air seeps into my bones, stiffening my muscles, turning them leaden and unresponsive. I try to sit up, but each movement sends sharp stabs of pain through me.

"Careful."

The deep voice slices through the fog in my mind, and I freeze. My head snaps toward the sound, breath catching in my throat. A shadowy figure looms over me, holding out a bottle of water, condensation glistening on the plastic.

For a brief, paralyzing moment, my heart slams against my ribs—panic tightening its grip.Oleksi. But no—this man is older. Silver threads pepper his jet-black hair, his features more defined, his posture too controlled.

"You're not Oleksi," I rasp.

"No." A smirk tugs at his lips. "But I'm flattered you'd think so."

I push myself upright, wincing as another jolt of pain rips through my body. Still, I take the water cautiously. "Who the fuck are you?"

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walks to a chair near the table, sits, and takes a slow sip from his own water bottle—completely at ease.

"I'm Timir Midrichon," he finally says, his voice smooth, detached, laced with a faint Russian accent that makes it all the more menacing.

I frown. "Midrichon? What kind of name is that?"

He lets out a soft, humorless laugh that sends a chill up my spine. "Russian. With a touch of Greek."

I pop the cap off the water bottle and take a few tentative sips, forcing down the unease twisting in my gut. "What should I call you then? Timir? Murderer? Or maybe Ice Man?"

His icy blue eyes flash with something sharp, dangerous—there and gone in an instant. "Timir is fine."

I press my lips together, steeling myself to meet his gaze. "What do you want from me?"

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "That’s a question with more than one answer," he says, unreadable. "But I’ll start with the simplest one: I want what’s locked in your memories."

A cold dread slithers through me. My memories. The ones I stopped trying to recover long ago. I always figured if they mattered, they'd come back on their own. They never did.

Like an overstuffed closet, crammed full of junk, until one day it bursts open, spilling everything you forgot existed. My past is that closet—one I never wanted to unlock.

"Any particular memory you’d like me to dig out of the dark recesses of my mind?" I ask dryly, my voice sharp despite the tremor beneath it.

Timir chuckles, the sound low and dark. "You're still just as sassy as you were as a child."

That throws me off. My pulse stutters. "How the fuck would you know what I was like as a kid?" My skin prickles. "Have you been watching me since then, you pervert?"

"No," he says evenly, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. "And I certainly wasn’t the pervert in your story." His gaze darkens slightly. "I knew you as a child because your mother and I were… close."

I blink, nausea twisting my stomach. "You mean you were one of her lovers," I say, my voice laced with disgust.

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