Page 86 of Kings of Cruelty

“She didn’t survive! They found her body! And even if she had survived, she’d be dead by now.” Kotya starts laughing too, though. “Maybe we should be doing ‘lost heir’ scams. We can pass Sierra off as Anastasia’s daughter. Grand-daughter.”

“How would you fake the DNA tests? Doesn’t work as well as back in the day,” I point out, but I’m smiling too.

He ruffles my hair. “Maybeyou’reAnastasia’s heir. Who’s to say her daughter didn’t drop you off at the orphanage?”

“But she died! And we said we don’t want to be royalty! Because of the revolution!” I point out. “Nobody would respect me if I were related to them. Can’t I be a secret descendent of Lenin?”

“That’s right. You are working for the proletariat! We care for the plight of the common man!” Kotya downs the rest of his vodka. “And what is more communist than redistributing the wealth of the Americans and giving it to ourselves?”

I nod in agreement, happy to see Kotya joking like this. I haven’t seen him this upbeat since I got back from jail. “Exactly! That’s my platform. As Lenin’s secret heir?—”

A knock on the door startles both of us.

We look at each other, and for some reason, we both burst out laughing.

“Come in!” Kotya says in between chuckles.

Sierra steps in, looking between the two of us with raised brows. “I missed the party, I see,” she says, closing the door behind herself. “What’s the occasion?”

I smile at her and raise my glass. “I am starting a revolution! Down with American wealth!”

“Hmm, I might be in the wrong tax bracket to celebrate that,” she drawls. Her smile falters, though. “Well. I used to be.” She waves it off, though. “Good thing I have three sugar daddies to keep me going.”

I get up and go to her, putting my arm around her, unable to stop smiling. “My state includes sharing everything. Sharing my wealth, sharing my love! Sharing sex with all the important people.” I kiss her cheek.

Kotya bursts out laughing. “I don’t think that’s what Marx and Lenin meant.”

Sierra shakes her head, but she smiles, too. She turns to kiss me, relaxing against my body as she looks with amusementbetween the two of us. “I don’t think so, either. But your philosophy has merit.”

“My philosophy is better than Kotya’s. He wanted to make you a Romanov!” I glare at him. “Down with the oppressive regime of the…” I trail off. “What’s that word in English? The rich people who do nothing but stomp on the lower classes.”

“CEOs,” Sierra says, deadpan.

Kotya lets out a full-bellied laugh. “Yes. Those are the same in Russia, too.” He gives me a fond look. “The bour-joo-sie.”

Now Sierra sighs. “Bourgeoisie. It’s a French word.”

I make a disgusted sound. “What do the French know of revolution?”

Sierra starts to giggle, first quietly, then growing in volume until she’s shaking with laughter. “Not a thing,” she says. “It’s not like the whole French Revolution is infamous the world over or anything.”

Kotya starts stroking his beard. “The guillotine was a French invention. Maybe we should use that to get rid ofourRomanovs.”

I roll my eyes at Kotya. “Where do we get a guillotine? We only have guns.”

“I’d say you could DIY it, but I’m afraid you actually would,” Sierra says, shaking her head. “You two, I swear. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

I nuzzle Sierra’s shoulder. “You could fuck us. That’s a law in my new state. Sierra has to fuck me and Kotya. And Nikolai.”

“Yes, yes,” she says, turning around to fully face me. “You’re lucky being pregnant makes me horny when I’m not, you know, throwing up or feeling like I’m going to. It’s like roulette. Will I get hot for you, or will I throw up on you? No one ever knows.”

“Roulette was a Russian invention,” I tell her earnestly.

She eyes me suspiciously. “Was it? Because the name sounds French.”

“You’ve never heard of Russian roulette?” I say, cackling. “Only Russians would invent a game that has a one-in-six chance of being deadly.”

She shoves me, albeit not very hard. “Stereotyping your own people? Is that why I smell vodka on your breath?” she teases.

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