Page 195 of Dance of Madness

Rurik frowns. “And Vladimir Debolsky?”

Papa spreads his hands. “I would assume what was actually happening the past week is not Levka trying to make peace with the Debolsky family so much as create an alliance.”

Kir nods. “I’ll know more after my spies report back to me, but I think it’s safe to assume that Levka saw a new route to power through sharing it with Vladimir. Levka would remove Marko from the equation, and in exchange, Vladimir would join their empires together.” He smirks. “Though, based on what I know about Vladimir, I believe Levka would have found himself with a proverbial and literal knife in his back the second he went down that road.”

“So we need to prepare for war with Debolsky?” Rurik mutters under his breath.

Papa shakes his head. “Vladimir is a weak man. The only reason he was bold enough to make that play today with the warehouse is that he assumed Levka had already started taking control.”

Kir frowns. “I’m confused why they’d go after the warehouse, if the plan was to ally. Why destroy that, and the contents?”

Papa sighs heavily. “Because my brother was a very petty man,” he huffs. “We took that warehouse in a small skirmish war with the Albanians maybe six or seven years ago. Levka had control of the offensive, and the victory was his. But then he wanted the warehouse and its logistics for himself. He wanted to run hisown operation.” He snorts. “I told him no, put another of our top captains in charge, and that was that.”

“And your brother never forgot it,” Nero murmurs.

Papa nods. “Da, exactly.”

“Your brother might have had more people within your organization on ‘his side’ than you know, Marko,” Nero adds. “Three of those guards downstairs were definitelyhismen, not yours.”

My father nods grimly and glances at Rurik.

“Already on it,” Rurik rumbles.

Just then, Vasilisa comes rushing in with two women and a man in hospital whites, wheeling a cart full of medical supplies and equipment.

Kir glances at my father as the doctors begin to get to work, then firmly takes Papa's vodka away as they start to examine the dressing that Angelina applied.

“I think it’s time I left, Marko.”

My father looks up at him over the doctors. “Thank you again, Kir. Truly.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Kir walks over to where I’m sitting with Nero.

“He’s a pain in the ass and there’s definitely a screw or two loose,” Kir smiles, tapping his head as he nods at Nero. “But he’s a good kid.”

“Fuck you too, uncle,” Nero grunts as a doctor gets to work on him.

Kir’s dark eyes drag back to me. “Take care of him, will you?”

“I’ll do my best.”

He smiles. “I know you will.”

When they realize how well Angelina has already dressed Papa’s wound, and exactly how fucked upNerois, the whole medical team switches from Marko to him.

I’m pushed aside as they get to work, stitching, cleaning, setting finger bones, getting his shoulder back into its socket.

It’s two hours later when Rurik, two of my father’s men and one of the doctors carry Nero upstairs and—at my request—bring him to my bedroom.

When they’re gone, I gingerly slide onto the bed next to him, propping myself up to look down into his gorgeous green eyes.

He starts to laugh, grimacing in pain as he does, but the chuckle just keeps coming.

“What exactly is so funny?”

His lips curl. “I’ve been in this room a dozen times, and that’s literally the first time I came in through the doorway.”

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