Page 51 of Kings of Cruelty

I was never really a sexual person before all of this, but I guess fucking three guys has changed me in ways I couldn’t have predicted.

My phone buzzes, and I quickly tap on it to see if Yuri is texting me.

But it’s not Yuri. It’s not even a text message.

It’s an email from James. I frown when I see it. I guess he doesn’t have my new phone number, but I haven’t changed my email address. I open the no-subject message to see what bullshit he’s going to say now.

Hey, Sierra. You missed the end of another class. Here are my notes. The prof talked about the final assignment a lot.

I’m wary about opening the attachment. We’re both in the same cybersecurity program, after all, and we both know our way around hacking—for better or for worse. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but after how nasty he’d been, I don’t think it’s worth the risk. I close out of the email. I’ll figure out the final assignment myself.

Rubbing my eyes, I toss my phone onto the bed beside me. I’m miserable, and I hate being miserable alone, which means that if I’m going to deal with this bullshit, I’m going to drag the guys into this with me.

I get up, heading for Konstantin’s office.

They’ve been weirdly secretive, hiding out in there more often than not when they aren’t gone entirely. Something’s happening, and if it wasn’t for the fact that everything is in Russian, I’d have already figured out what it is.

The guard posted at Konstantin’s door eyes me, and I ask, “Is Konstantin in?”

“He’s busy,” the man says dismissively.

“Too bad,” I mutter. I try to reach past him to knock on the door anyway, but he intercepts me, grabbing my wrist. I blink at him, more startled than anything, before I narrow my eyes at him. “You really, really don’t want the guys to see you laying a hand on me.”

He at least looks wary at that, and he releases me. “He is not to be disturbed.”

“Yeah, well, he can decide on whether or not I’m disturbing him,” I say, more irritable than I usually would be, but after James’s persistent attempts to contact me and engage me, I’m not in a very patient mood.

This time, the guy doesn’t stop me from knocking on Konstantin’s office door.

Konstantin’s irritated voice shouts back, “What?” in Russian.

Yay, I can understand a single word.

“I am Sierra!” I call back in badly-accented Russian. The guard cringes, and I shoot a glare at him. “Hey, I don’t judge your English.”

I hear shuffling on the other end of the door, then Konstantin opens it for me. Nikolai and Yuri are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both scowling.

“Come in,” Konstantin says in Russian, then repeats it in English in case I didn’t understand him the first time.

I don’t indulge the desire to cast a smug look in the guard’s direction. Instead, I sail past him into the office, closing the door behind me.

I look between all three of them again, frowning. “Wow. What the hell did I just interrupt?”

“Nothing,” Yuri says in Russian, but the rest of what he says is a lot faster and more complicated than I can catch.

Konstantin barks back something in equally harsh tones.

That’s not normal at all. I glance at Nikolai, and it takes me a second to realize that he’s glaring at both of them because my attention is too focused on his bruised face. I look at Yuri’s, and I’m not sure I believe his story anymore.

Maybe they both happened to be in the same fight, but with the way they’re acting…

Nikolai snaps something to them—still in Russian—and I really wish it was not going to be a fewyearsbefore I can understand basic conversations.

“Okay, let’s pretend we’re all civilized people for a minute,” I tell them. “And stop yelling at each other. Then start talking in English so I understand what you’re even mad about.”

“I am not mad,” Yuri says, arms crossed in front of him. “I already agreed. I don’t know why we’re having this discussion.”

Konstantin makes an exasperated sound. “Do you feel yourself good when you act like child?”

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