Page 68 of No Promises, No Lies

“C’mon,” I say to Rory, reluctantly releasing her from my hold. She follows silently behind me, pressing closer as we go to pass Koen, who motions toward the kitchen.

Various bodies lie strewn about the foyer, forcing us to step around them. Blood stains the polished marble floors. As we enter the kitchen, we find the rest of Koen’s men waiting around along with a bloody-faced Adrik Kostalov, standing over two men. Both are dressed in black tactical gear, hands zip-tied behind their backs, kneeling at the Russian Pakhan’s feet.

Adrik’s eyes snap to Rory before sliding over to meet mine. He gives what looks to be a nod of gratitude before turning his attention back to Volkov’s men at his feet.

Blood coats his face, soaked from a particularly nasty gash to the side of the head. Still, he’s on his feet, with his gun pointed square between the eyes of one of the Russians.

The gun goes off at the same moment Nikolai and a few of his Bratva cronies burst through the patio door.

Rory’s hand tightens on mine, fear of the shot or her brother, I’m not sure and Koen steps forward, angling himself between the newest arrivals and Rory and me.

“What the fuck is this?” Niko asks, raising his gun and looking between Koen and me, not quite sure where to point it.

“It’s all under control,” Adrik waves his son down. “It only takes one to tell a story.” The Russian Pakhan’s gun moves from the body to the man now pleading in what must be Russian at his feet.

Niko looks around wildly, taking in the bodies by the back door and the sight of the Irish standing around his kitchen. His gun is still pointed at me, but there’s uncertainty in his eyes. Koen rustled up quite the crew with next-to-no notice. Besides myself, it’s Liam, Jace, Mac, Jerrad and Garrett standing around the room, outnumbering the Bratva 2:1. We’re lucky that they were all at Last Call for closing time.

When Niko’s eyes catch sight of his sister at my side, they harden and he takes a step forward, forcing me to straighten my shoulders. The rest of the room grows tense with the movement.

“Take this one to the basement,” Adrik orders, oblivious to everything playing out around him, and Niko freezes. “I think what he has to say will beveryenlightening.”

Niko gives me one last glare before following his father’s orders. He sends his men in with a nod. They pick Volkov’s man off the floor and drag him off to the Kostalov basement from hell. What goes on down there… Of course I’ve heard the stories. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.I don’t know of anyone morecreativethan Niko Kostalov.

The elder Kostalov holsters his piece and straightens, adjusting his suit that’s in quite the state of disarray before addressing both Koen and me. “The Bratva owes you a great debt for coming to the aid of both my daughter and me.”

He beckons for Rory to come to him.

With a moment of hesitation, Rory detaches herself from my side. She releases my hand and walks on wobbly legs to stand beside her father. Her chin is held high despite what almost happened in that bedroom.

Adrik places a bloody hand on her shoulder and she stiffens from the contact.

“We hadn’t heard from you regarding the Cartel deal… Figured we’d stop in.” Koen steps forward with a casual shrug, moving to lean against the kitchen island with his arms folded across his chest. “Looks like we had good timing.” He looks around with a pointed expression. “What did you do to piss off Ronan Volkov?”

I swear Adrik’s skin pales at the mention of the Volkov name, but it’s gone in an instant, the mask dropping into place while waving his hand flippantly through the air. “A misunderstanding. I’ll call Volkov up tonight and clear this up in minutes.”

Koen’s frown deepens and we exchange a look.

“I’m sure you know we are having a little party next week,” Adrik starts.

Little?

Kostalov’s birthday party has been the talk of the town for weeks. He’s made certain the city’s most influential players will all be in attendance. “I’m hoping you can come? We can discuss the terms of bringing the Irish in on the Cartel deal over a cigar, perhaps?” He smiles, though it doesn’t touch his eyes.

“We’d be honored,” Koen says as he straightens to his full height, pushing off the counter. “I look forward to discussingterms.” He steps forward, offering Adrik his hand, forcing Adrik to release his grip on his daughter in order to shake it. “Rory.” My brother offers her a cordial nod, which she returns before her eyes find mine.

I don’t say anything, and neither does she, as I follow Koen and the rest of the Irish out the door, her damn steely blue eyes telling me everything I need to know.

41

DANGER & DIOR

RORY

Ibarely slept—even with Niko and his crew patrolling the halls—I couldn’t do it. Jumping at every little noise or sound while curled up in the guest room’s bed, not the best place to be either, but my room had been absolutely destroyed by Volkov’s men last night.

When I came downstairs the next morning, I was surprised to find no trace of the events. Staring down at my reflection in the foyer’s gleaming floors. Not a trace or smear of blood remained from the bodies that lay here just hours before. It only unnerves me more, what these men are capable of.

I suppose I should be grateful no one noticed my clear lack of pajamas and obvious club attire with everything going on. Or, at least my father didn’t.

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