BROOKLYN
A shiver runsdown my spine when I reach for him and realize he’s not there.
I roll over and pluck my cracked phone from the nightstand. I blink at it, frowning when I see it’s almost three-thirty in the morning. I’m about to go look for Kir when I get a new email notification.
My heart skips.
It’s a scheduling reminder from Liliya Rostova, the Ballet Mistress of theImperiya Korona, for my callback with her and Ivan in just two weeks.
My pulse jumps as a mix of excitement and anxiety flickers through me.
Then my brows knit as I glance around the room.
Where is he?
I wrap myself in the duvet and quietly prowl through the house. He’s not in his office, or anywhere downstairs. Finally, I catch sight of him out on the ivy-covered veranda off the library.
“And here I thought I’d worn you out,” I say shyly, slipping out to join him.
Kir glances up, flashing one of his sinfully sexy smiles. “Just enjoying the view.”
“How is it?”
“Radicallyimproved in the last three seconds.”
I smile, settling back against his body, pushing the duvet aside to rest my cheek on his bare chest.
“Why have you and Dimitri Moskovic been fighting?”
I can feel his chest rise and fall as he takes a slow, deep breath.
“I don’t even know if we remember anymore. Our fathers were enemies. We’re friendly enough at times, but occasionally business goes sour, or deals and territory are taken by force.” He shakes his head. “It’s become stupid enough that we’re both ready for a peace to reset the board and start over as allies.”
“So…this truce…” I swallow. “You get Inessa into the ballet, and there’s peace? Like,that’sthe deal?”
Kir nods thoughtfully. “That’s how the Bratva frequently works,” he growls. “It’s symbolic, yes, but it’s a way to bury the hatchet. So, symbolic, butnecessary.”
My eyebrows knit. “Are there any other terms?”
He looks away. I reach for his chin, sliding my fingers up his jaw and gently pulling his gaze back to me.
“I’m going to reach out to Ivan,” he murmurs. “Maybe there’s a way…” He shakes his head. “I’m going to figure this out, babygirl.”
“Inessa isverygood,” I whisper. “Better than me, honestly. Or at least at the same level, and that’s me being kind to myself. She’sworkedfor it.”
“I can talk to Ivan. Call in some favors, or?—”
“I don’twantfavors. I want to get in on my own merit.” My eyes find his, frowning slightly. “What other terms are there, Kir?” I say quietly.
His gaze locks with mine, black clashing with blue.
“Inessa goes to theBallet Imperiya Korona. Dimitri drops all business interests in New York and never returns.” His jaw tightens. “And I do the same in Russia.”
I freeze, my eyes widening. “So if I get in?—”
“Stop it,” he growls.
“No, Kir?—”