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The man stood proudly in front of a house. Tanya’s house. I was sure of it.
Marina always sprinkled some truth into her lies. When Tanya’s name slipped from her lips, it wasn’t for nothing. I had someone keeping tabs on Marina. She regularly sneaked off to that house, always late at night.
Vlad might not be around, but tonight I’d know where he’s hiding.
Anger flared thinking about what Marina might have told Sofiya.
Marina was right though; Sofiya was too innocent, too fragile for this world.
I cursed Igor for putting her in my path.
Sometimes, I could hear Sofiya crying or pacing in her room, and it sparked a feeling I hadn't felt in ages: guilt.
The other night, I overheard her muttering something strange: "Dear Lord, the day I die, make it glorious, so the stars above will welcome me as their own."
Was she into astrology?
“Wait in the car.”
“But, Volk…”
Ignoring him, I crossed the street and approached her front door. As I pushed it open, a heavy silence engulfed me, like a weight on my shoulders.
The house was too fucking quiet.
Gun in hand, I took a few steps, ready for anything.
Slipping through the dark hallway, I searched for Tanya. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet, sweat trickling down my forehead.
Damn, it was too fucking hot in here.
My eyes scanned the shadows.
Suddenly, a sound emerged from the bedroom.
I froze, gun ready.
As I approached the door, my heart hammered, adrenaline blasting through my veins. I took a deep breath and shoved it open, gun at the ready.
There she was, across the room, her own gun trained on me.
The tension was fucking electric.
Her eyes had that same steely look I’d seen in our men—the kind that says you’ve seen some serious shit and you’ve got nothing left to lose.
We stood there, frozen, guns aimed straight at each other. The silence was suffocating, just the sound of our heavy breathing breaking through. Neither of us was about to back down. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to.
She was dressed in a long, lacy black dress, her hair a mess around her face. Her red lips were smeared, and her eyeliner was streaked from recent tears.
In that moment, it hit me: Tanya was more than I’d been led to believe.
She was buried in darkness, and I was only scratching the surface.
"You’re late," she spat, her gun now pointed directly at my head.
"Sorry for the delay, Your Highness," I shot back. "But your shady dealings will have to wait till tomorrow."
"They may be shady, but I’ve heard about you, Volk," she said, tilting her head and flashing a smirk that revealed a faint dimple. "You’ve got quite the reputation for liking a good whore."
