Page 175 of Dance of Madness

“Thank you, Kir,” I growl. “For your help.”

I hang up. Then I give the girl her phone back, take my credit card and coffees, and leave.

There’s a tightness in my chest as I head back to Greymoor. A black cloud shadowing the joy I felt barely fifteen minutes ago.

I know it’s not Milena. Iknow that. But I still have to figure out how to tell her that someone, probably her father, has been lying to her for years.

The fact that therewasno “preemptive attack” on the Kalishnik family by mine.

The fact that instead of coming after my family themselves, they outsourced the job to mercenaries for some reason.

That’s too many oddities to this entire saga for me, and it points to one explanation: someone, probably Marko, is covering something?—

My steps halt suddenly.

“My father was undergoing heavy treatment for cancer when your family was attacked. He was pumped so full of chemo that he was barely conscious.”

“He’s never calls me malyshka. He calls me solnyshka.”

When it hits me, it fuckinghits me.

Holy shit.

Holy fuckingshit.

But before I can follow that train of thought, a black van screeches to a stop at the curb next to me. I whirl to run, but four guys come at me from both directions on the sidewalk, surrounding me as the van door opens and three more men jump out.

I drop the coffees and take a swing, snarling as I smash one guy in the face, then whirl to dodge a punch and take out another’s legs.

But there’s just one of me.

Theyallget a taste of me as I’m brought to the ground, kicking and fighting. Then I see stars and my vision blurs as something heavy slams into my temple.

My body goes limp. A black bag is yanked over my head.

Shit.

36

MILENA

I wake with a start.Sunlight streams over my face, and I blink away sleep as I sit up in bed. I glance around before my eyes land on Nero's phone lying on the beside table. My eyes widen when I see the time: it’s fuckingten.

I grin and start to snuggle back into the sheets. I’m exhausted, and I clearly needed the sleep. But then a thought hits me, and I bolt back upright.

“Nero?” I call out. I frown as I glance at his phone again. He went to get coffee like five hours ago.

“Nero!”

I slide out of bed, wrapping the comforter around me as I pad out of the room. I poke my head into the bathroom. Empty.

“Hello?”

I check the second floor, then the first. I even swallow the lingering sense of dread as I descend to the basement and check there.

Nothing.

I scramble back upstairs, panic starting to build in my chest. It feels off for him to come back then leave again without saying anything or leaving a note. Besides, his phone is still here.

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