Nikolai: Let’s hope, for your sake, he rots in Hell.
Troy: Oh, he will. But knowing my luck, so will I.
Troy: I won’t forget this.
Nikolai: Watch out for chaos in Kentucky.
Troy: I’ll be watching. Don’t you worry about that.
Troy: Let’s hope Kadare kills dear old Daddy.
Nikolai: I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.
Troy: Nikolai! WAS THAT A JOKE?
Nikolai: You know me, Troy—I never joke.
Troy: I dunno… sending my father my cousin’s teeth was pretty fucking funny. :P
16
NIKOLAI
TWO DAYS LATER
Wicked - Miki Ratsula
* * *
She’sfast asleep when I walk into my bedroom.
I expected no less at three AM, but the soft sounds of her breathing, the gentle whispers of her limbs moving against the silk sheets, have the tension in my shoulders shifting away, drifting as if I took a Valium.
Solnyshko.
My awareness of her location in the room feels preternatural. She wouldn’t have to be in the bed for me to know precisely where she is. Not when I sense her light, her heat.
Walking toward the unshuttered windows, I take a moment to study my domain.
My personal kingdom.
I remember when I was eight years old and had nothing to my name—blyad, less than nothing—like it was yesterday.
That’s why I do this every night I spend atNav.
The estate cost me a fortune. Me. Not the Bratva. It’s mine. Every acre of it.
I strove for this place, killed for it, begged, stole, and borrowed to possess it, and yet, none of that seems as important as it did last week.
Twisting around, I look at her in the puddle of moonlight.
She might be mysolnyshko, but even here, she glitters like a diamond.
My hands curve into fists as my cock hardens in response to her beauty.
I head over to the safe room to drop off the keys there, then on the return journey to the window, I strip out of my jacket and let it fall onto a chair.
After unbuckling my knife holster, I pull at my shirt, unfastening the buttons and tossing it on top of the sports coat. As I drag off my belt, I walk over to the bed like I’ve done every night since I brought her here.