Page 248 of The Devil's Thorn
“Put him on,” I said, calm.
Nikolai answered without hesitation, stepping away from the table.
The Irishman’s voice crackled through the line—low, gruff, that constant undertone of false politeness that made my skin crawl.
I didn’t need to hear the words. I already knew what was coming.
Nikolai’s face didn’t move. Just listened. Processed. Then, without breaking stride, he lowered the phone slightly and looked over at me. “He wants to come by,” Nikolai said. “Said it’s about a… standing proposition.”
A beat. I said nothing for a second, just turned the glass in my hand, letting the silence stretch.
Then— “Tell him to come,” I said. “I’m not busy.
Nikolai lifted the phone back to his ear, giving the confirmation.
I stared at the map again but didn’t see the lines this time. I sawher.
And then I saw the Irishman’s daughter beside her like a chess piece I didn’t ask for—one I had no intention of moving.
Nikolai ended the call and turned back toward us. “He’ll be here in an hour,” he said.
“He’s bringing her,” I said.
Not a question. Just the truth.
They didn’t come alone for things like this.
Yuri made a low sound and tossed himself onto one of the leather couches, arms stretched out across the back.
“Could be worse,” he muttered. “The guy’s offering a decent alliance. Good ports. Solid loyalty. His daughter’s… not exactly hard to look at.”
I looked at him. Not with anger. Just finality.
“He offered her in Italy,” I said. “Said I should take her hand like it was a trade agreement.”
“Isn’t it?” Yuri countered. “That’s how these things have always worked. Bloodlines, power, influence. It’s not personal.”
“That’s exactly what makes it personal.”
“You already have an heir in mind?” Yuri smirked. “Or are we still playing that close to the chest?”
I didn’t answer. Because he already knew. They both did.
Nikolai didn’t say anything. Just returned to the table, cue stick in hand, eyes still on the route.
“So what’s the plan?” he asked. “You hear him out?”
“I let him speak,” I said. “And then I show him how polite I can be when I turn him down.”
I leaned back in the chair, my hands resting on the arms like I was sitting on a throne I never asked for—but would never give up.
Yuri stretched, exhaling through his nose, then looked at me again. “You know you’re going to need an heir eventually, right?”
I didn’t react. Not visibly. But something in me tensed.
He didn’t stop. “Don’t give me that look,” he said. “This isn’t sentiment. This is survival.”
“And you think tying myself to Cormac’s daughter guarantees that?”
