Page 86 of Unholy Tsar

Then, the whirlwind inside of me stops, and a single, clear thought emerges from it all.

Cecilia.

All reason fades away, consumed by a primal surge of fear and fury. With a loud roar, I squeeze the trigger and charge at Vera. She effortlessly sidesteps and fires her own shot.

The bullet tears through my shoulder, snapping me back until I stumble down to my knees, grunting in pain. The gun clatters to the ground, useless. Gritting my teeth, I glare up at her, pure defiance burning in my eyes. That wicked smile stays painted on her pale face as she steps forward and kicks my gun away.

“While this little reunion has been touching, I’m a busy woman. There are things I must take care of. Oh, well.”

“Don’t you dare touch a fucking hair on her head,” I growl. “You or Victor—or you’ll both wish you’d died in that fucking fire.”

“Ah, how adorable. But let’s not forget who’s in control here. You’re in no position to make threats, Maksim. The only reason you aren’t already dead is because your pathetic attempts to track us down amuse me. Nothing else. Now, good night.” She raises her hand and slams the butt of her pistol into the back of my head.

Pain explodes through my skull, the room spinning as I stagger and fall to the floor.

Cecilia.

She’s the last thought in my mind before my vision fizzles out.

31

CECILIA

I gasp awake, my body aching all over.

Before I can even gather my bearings, the sack is yanked off my head, exposing me to blinding light. I squint against the sudden brightness that feels awfully like someone’s shining a flashlight directly into my eyes.

“You are awake, good,” a man says.

As my eyes slowly adjust, I see a hulking figure dragging a chair toward me. He sinks into it, his posture exuding a deliberate, predatory intent, as though he’s relishing every moment of my discomfort.

I try to move away, but my hands are tied behind my back. All I can do is push myself off the cold, hardwood floor and twist into an awkward sitting position.

My vision clears just in time to catch his evil grin. “What? You don’t see the family resemblance?” He turns a flashlight to his face, and I gulp.

It’s uncanny just how much he looks like Maksim.

“What is this? You aren’t Maksim, so who—”

Just then, Maksim’s words about his siblings flood back into my mind. Could this man be one of them? No. He said they were dead.

“Ah, I can see it in your eyes, tsarina. You’ve almost figured it out. But you don’t want to believe it. Yes. I am Viktor Smolov. Twin brother of your precious Maksim. Though, I like to think I’m the older sibling, as I entered this cruel world five minutes before him, you see.”

He counts to five on his thick, scarred fingers.

I inhale sharply. Maksim never mentioned that he had a twin, only that he had siblings. Why wouldn’t he tell me that?

Then I remember. Why bother?

“B–but you–you—”

“Died?” he chuckles. “A brilliant plot by my sister.”

His sister is alive too? Shit, Maksim.

“She’s a smart one, our Vera. And not just then, but now too. From the moment we found out about our brother’s little plaything, she knew we could use you. But poor lovesick Maksim never seemed to stray too far from you and never for too long. So Vera decided to draw him out. Then who would stop me from waltzing right into your castle?” He lets out a deep bellowing laugh. “Or from waltzing out. You should have seen the looks the staff gave me as I carried you over my shoulder. Sack over your head. Completely unconscious. It didn’t matter. As far as they were concerned, I was the fearsome Maksim Smolov. Their boss. God, it was intoxicating, feeling like I had that kind of power. Our brother did well for himself in America. Now, we will have his power, too.”

My mind swims, still hazy from the drugs that knocked me out.