Page 59 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

“What’s happened?” I can’t keep the curiosity out of my voice.

He stares at the phone for what feels like an eternity before looking up. “Mikhail, we have a problem,” he says, and his voice is grave in a way I haven’t heard in years.

This is not the time for bad news; not when I’m on the cusp of taking over, not when things with Gabriette are finally making some kind of fucking sense.

He puts his phone away, clearly contemplating how to break the news. “It’s about Sophia, Gabriette’s sister,” he finally says. “You know how she requested her body be donated to science?”

I nod, remembering that day vividly. The day Sophia was supposed to marry me, only to be found dead. “Yeah, what about it?”

“There’s been a mistake, a fucked-up one,”

My heart pounds in my chest. “A mistake? What the fuck do you mean?”

“A friend of mine at the coroner’s office just called. They examined her body after a fuck up with a previous coroner. The trajectory of the bullet wound... it doesn’t add up. She couldn’t have done it herself. Someone killed her, Mikhail.”

For a moment, I can’t breathe. The weight of his words settles over me like a shroud, and I feel a venomous mix of anger and betrayal boiling up from deep within.

A shockwave courses through me, chilling me to my core. Murdered? Sophia? The very idea stirs a storm inside, a tempest of anger and questions. It changes everything. It changes the game, the alliances, the goddamn board on which we play.

But most of all, it brings a dark cloud over what I have with Gabriette. She’s been living under the illusion that her sister took her own life, and now this? I look at my father, and the severity in his eyes matches the turmoil I feel.

“That changes everything, Pappa. We can’t keep Gabriette in the dark about this.”

“You’re right,” he agrees, his eyes meeting mine. “But with your ascension tonight, you’ve got a larger target on your back than ever before. If Sophia was murdered, Gabriette could be in danger, too.”

Fuck. He’s right. I’m already grappling with what it means to be Pakhan, to have men swear fealty to me. And now this? It’s like I’ve been thrown into the deep end and told to swim with the fucking sharks.

“We find out who did this, and we make them pay,” my father says. The Pakhan in him speaks those words, but I hear the father, the man who’d do anything to protect his family—just like I’d do for Gabriette.

“Then let’s start hunting,” I reply, the finality in my voice sealing an unspoken pact. “And something tells me it’s the same people who tried to ram me off the road the other night.”

I’ll have to tell Gabriette, expose her to a truth that’ll shatter her already fragile world. But I’d rather she hear it from me than learn it in some godforsaken way.

As much as I hate the thought of adding one more burden to her shoulders, I owe her honesty—especially now, when honesty’s all I have to offer.

“We’ll navigate this storm, Mikhail,” my father assures me, perhaps reading the internal struggle in my eyes. “We always do.”

Yeah, I think, draining the last of my whiskey. But at what cost?

For the first time since the ceremony, my new tattoo feels like a weight, anchoring me to a reality more twisted than any I’d ever anticipated.

MIKHAIL

Istep out of the pub; the air is biting cold, a stark contrast to the warmth and whiskey buzz inside. My footsteps echo on the cobbled street as I head to my car, a sleek black sedan idling by the curb.

As I settle into the plush leather seat, a swarm of thoughts begins to invade my mind. Sophia’s death, my newfound responsibilities as Pakhan, and Gabriette. Always Gabriette.

I pull out my phone and dial her number. A part of me needs to hear her voice, to anchor myself in the one good thing that’s happened to me recently.

But the call goes dead almost immediately. My brows furrowed in confusion, mingling with a tinge of irritation. Did she just kill the call? A knot tightens in my stomach. It’s not like her to dodge my calls, especially not tonight of all nights.

My thumb hovers over the screen, contemplating whether to call again, when another idea pops into my head.

Mr. Orlov, chairman of the philharmonic where Gabriette was invited to play, and she mentioned she’d be there today. I scroll through my contacts and hit dial. The ring seems to go on forever before he finally answers.

“Mikhail! A pleasure to see you calling. How can I assist you this evening?”

His voice is as smooth as I remember, every syllable carefully weighed and measured. “Mr. Orlov, the pleasure is mine. I was wondering if you’ve seen Gabriette today?”

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