Page 83 of Kings of Cruelty

“I am going to keep you alive. That’s all a man can do.” My father looks me in the eyes. “Cut ties with baby Voronkov. Leave the city.”

I blink at him. I know he hates that I’ve thrown in with Kotya, but to tell me to cut ties and leave? That’s some next level bullshit right there. “Um. No.”

He glares at me. “You aren’t hearing me. You need to leave, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m hearing you just fine, but I’m not going to upend my entire life on some vague warnings,” I tell him hotly. “So unless you want to tell me what’s going on, I’m not going anywhere. I have a good life here—without you, without your influence.”

What the fuck would I do in some random city, without Kotya or Yuri or Sierra?

My father’s scowl turns uglier. “Kolya! I am telling you this for your own good. Listen to your father.”

“Maybe I’d listen to my father if he’d tried to help me at any other moment in my life,” I hiss at him. “If you’re going to tell me to leave, at least tell me why.”

He won’t. I know he won’t. Despite everything, he expects me to jump at his command.

My father stands up and slams his hands on the table. “I am telling you this to save your life, you stupid boy. You will be able to return! We will both win. But you need to go now, before…” He trails off.

I stare up at him. “Before what?” I ask, dread starting to override some of my anger. “What do you know? What aren’t you telling me?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind that.”

“Never mind?Never mind?” I burst out. “You ignore me for years, barely even making sure I had food and clothing. You pretty much kick me out when I’m eighteen because that’s how you had it. You let me get involved in a life you’re now telling me to get out of, and you won’t tell me why. You’ve done nothing for me but let me dig myself deep, and I’m not fucking sorry that I found—” I break off. I’m not telling him that I found a family in Konstantin. “You’re lucky I bother with you at all, old man.”

“I’m not telling you to get out,” he argues, but I’m done.

I push away from the table, flip him off, and head out of our private room. The server who was about to bring us our food steps aside, startled, as I rush past her and out into the New Bristol streets.

When I get to my car, I throw the door open and slip inside, slamming my fists against the steering wheel.

He’s a goddamn motherfucking piece of shit. That’s all. He might’ve impregnated my mother, but he’s not my father—not in any way that counts. He never has been, and he never will be.

His vague, stupid warnings to get out have pinged my radar, and I’ll tell Konstantin about them because they do not bode well, but for now, I need to let off steam. I wish I was the gym-going type, where I could beat the fuck out of some punching bag, but all I want to do is go back inside and punch that smug bastard in the face instead.

I turn my key in the ignition, needing to get out of here before I decide to pummel him until he tells me what he knows.

I race off, barely missing two cars along the way, and I try to think of where I can go.

The only place I can think of is home—Konstantin’s, the place I’ve felt comfortable for the past few years, the place I’m not going to abandon no matter what my piss-poor excuse for a dad tells me.

The onlypersonI can think of who could possibly help me is Sierra.

I’m not the type to tell people when I’m upset. I’d rather avoid my problems entirely.

But that hasn’t worked out so well for me in the past, and I doubt it’s going to work out particularly well for me right now. I need to talk, and the desperate urge of it almost has me calling her. I don’t, though. I’m barely able to drive as it is, and if I try to express any of this in words while I’m on my way back, I’m liable to get myself killed.

I get onto the grounds, past the gate, and into the garage without incident—somehow—and I stalk inside without a word to any of the guards. It’s not like me to be unfriendly and rude, but I have tunnel vision. The only person I want to see had better be available, because I will drag her out of Konstantin or Yuri’s rooms without a second thought if I have to.

I don’t know when I started needing her so much.

I find her alone in her room, typing away with that intensity she gets when she’s working on something, but I’m inside and closing the door before I can think about it.

“Sierra,” I rasp, and I realize that for some fucking reason, I’m holding back tears.

She blinks up at me, and whatever she sees in my expression has her closing her laptop and setting it aside.

Now that I’m here, I’m not sure if I want to talk or fuck, but I’d probably end up hurting her in the state I’m in.

Hurting her, or hurting the baby that very well could be my blood.

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