Page 1 of Kings of Cruelty

ONE

Konstantin

The gunshot is louderthan any I’ve ever heard.

Sierra cries out.

My eyes go to her, and I watch her stumble back as the blood blooms across her chest.

“No!” I shout. I knife the Marino goon closest to me and rush toward her.

I’m too slow. She starts to collapse—but Nikolai is there, catching her. His hands stain red with Sierra’s blood.

“Sierra!” Nikolai looks down at her, applying pressure to the wound even as blood wells up around his hands. “I need something to stop the bleeding!”

Even as I crouch down, bullets whiz past my head. All I can think about is Sierra. I look up, and I find Yura just… staring at us. His face is white, and all he’s doing is holding the gun in hands I can see from here are shaking.

“Goddamn it!” Nikolai curses, pulling back long enough to shrug off his suit jacket and push it against the wound.

I hear shouting behind us, and more shots sound in the room. These bullets catch Marino’s men, who go down like dominos.

“Sierra!” Kyran Winters shouts. He punches somebody close to him, then rushes over to Nikolai and Sierra. He touches Sierra’s face, shaking his head. “No, no. I’m not losing you. Not you too.”

Silvano Cresci stays where he is behind a knocked over table. Victor Corvi and his woman are with him, and the three of them are talking to each other, but I can’t hear them over the noise of everything else.

I survey the room again, and I spot Don Marino attempting to sneak out.

My vision goes hazy, and damn the consequences, I rush toward him. He yells, and somebody tries to get between us, but I grab the goon and fling him hard against the liquor cabinet. Then I’m on top of Marino, and I force him up against the wall.

“Voronkov! Stop!” Marino squeals as I wrap my hand around his neck.

“Anybody have any objections to me killing him?” I ask the room at large, not bothering to disguise my rage.

“Gut him like a fucking pig,” Kyran snarls, his big body hovering over Sierra and Nikolai. “Sierra. Sierra, wake up.”

Another shot, and the goon who’d tried to protect Marino goes down.

Then there’s silence.

“Kill him,” Lucia Bellini’s cool voice states. “Angelo, get Saint to call for help.”

“Princess, I am in the middle of shooting people,” Angelo Guerra complains. “You can call Saint. And an ambulance.”

“I’ve already called medical support,” Victor Corvi states.

“Voronkov—” Silvano begins.

I ignore him and dig my fingers into Marino’s throat. Marino gasps and struggles, but he’s an old man, and he can’t do anything against my raw strength. His face turns red, then purple, as he attempts to breathe.

It would be more satisfying to gut him, but I have no weapons. I’d been overconfident, thinking Marino wouldn’t attempt anything with all his tentative allies in the room.

“You really should have planned things better,” I snarl at him as I choke him.

I keep choking him, even after his body goes limp. I’m not going to risk him surviving this.

Silvano Cresci approaches me on my side, and I’m ready to tell him to fuck off.

He holds up a knife. “This might be faster,” he says calmly. He looks at Marino and wrinkles his nose. “Although I think he’s already dead.”

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