Page 113 of Kings of Cruelty

“Nikolai?” Sierra asks in my ear right as thunder echoes in the distance and a bolt of lightning illuminates the grounds beyond the window of my studio. “You need to get out of there.”

I ignore her, my attention still focused on my father.

“You still do nothing but lick Konstantin’s balls,” my father says. “Does he let you oversee anything? Does he let you handle any part of the business on your own?”

Fury rages through me, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s saying it or because he’s right. I don’t know what to say that won’t be an admission of guilt, either, so I simply stare at him until the silence gets uncomfortable. “You need to make your choice,” I rasp. “Get down on the floor and surrender, or I will kill you.”

“You will not kill me,” my father says, laughing. “You had years to do it. But you are like all the Americans. Too kind, too trusting. Naive. You think the world will simply give you things if you ask nicely.”

“Shut up!” I shout in English. “Give up, old man!”

“Nikolai, calm down,” Sierra says. “He’s just?—”

Konstantin’s voice interrupts her. “He is a decrepit old man clinging to the glory days. I do not know your mother, Nikolai, but wouldyoustay with this sad sack?”

I can’t catch my breath no matter how hard I try. I want to focus on what Konstantin is saying, but my father’s ugly words are still resonating in my ears. I don’t want to listen to him, to believe him, and there’s only one way to prove him wrong.

I don’t want to shoot him, though.

I don’t want to kill him.

I am every bit as weak asVasilyclaims I am, but I need to change that. He isn’t going to surrender. He isn’t going to help us. His idea of helpingmehad been to tell me to get the fuck out.

But I can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t tried to shoot me yet. It gives me a pathetic sort of hope, but it’s not something I can afford to have. Not right now.

I steady my aim. “Did you ever care for me?”

Something in my father’s expression changes. “You weren’t terrible when you were still a small brat. Before your mother left. But she must have noticed the same thing I did?—”

I shoot him.

I’m not sure who’s more surprised, me or him, but blood sprays out from the wound in his chest. I want to close my eyes, to avoid seeing the destruction I’m causing, but I force myself to stare him in the eyes as he starts to crumple. I shoot him again, because there’s no salvaging this. Even if I wanted to keep him alive—and fuck, Ido, despite everything—I can’t. We don’t have time to deal with my daddy issues right now, and he’s not going to do anything but hinder us.

“Nikolai?” Sierra asks, sounding alarmed.

“It’s done,” I croak out.

“Okay. You need to get to Yuri,” Sierra says. “He removed his earpiece for some reason.”

Fuck. I lower the gun, my arm reverberating from the aftershocks.

Once I feel steady, I head out the studio’s door and shut it behind me.

I’ll figure out how to mourn later.

TWENTY-NINE

Yuri

I don’t feelgood about leaving Nikolai behind, but I know we can’t afford to linger. We have to get to Igor and Roman before they can escape and regroup.

There’s no point in attempting stealth anymore. The other two teams have caused more than enough uproar, and everybody in the mansion is frantically trying to figure out where the attackers are coming from. It does mean that some of them overlook me as they run past me to help their comrades dealing with the other teams.

“Has anyone seen Roman?” I ask into the comms.

“By the west wing,” Sierra answers. “It looks like he’s trying to get to the garage?”

I don’t know how she spotted him in this chaos, but I’ll take it. I rush through the mansion, ignoring the guards who shout when they see me.

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