Page 88 of Gilded in Blood

They do not look convinced. Artyom rubs a hand over his face before nodding once. “Fine.”

He points a finger at Kirill. “If you so much as hurt a hair on her head, we'll make you regret the day you were born.”

Kirill gives a single nod. “Understood.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Kirill

Michael is fuming, pacing up and down the dimly lit room like a caged animal. His face is flushed with anger, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“How the fuck could you let this happen?” he snarls. “What the hell were you thinking?”

I keep my voice even. “I had no idea this was going to happen.”

He stops pacing, turning on me. “So you’re telling me the Morozov girl got to the real Ilya, took him upstairs, and was nursing him when you walked in?”

“Yes.”

Michael’s eyes narrow. “So she doesn’t know the truth? That you’re the fake Ilya?”

“No. She heard noises from the basement and went to check. Found the man chained up. She brought him upstairs and called 911. Before the paramedics arrived, I showed up with your guy. While I was trying to explain, the real Ilya made a grab for my gun and shot your man.”

Michael swears loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck. This is not supposed to happen. The police are all over the case now. This is going to impede our goal.”

I step closer, keeping my tone calm. “Nothing is ruined yet. Milana knows nothing. As far as she’s concerned, some stranger was holding Ilya in the basement. I’ve convinced her to let the police handle the investigation. Everything is still on track.”

He points a finger at me, eyes wild. “This is your fault. If you had listened to me and brought the girl to me when I asked, none of this would have happened.”

I meet his gaze steadily. “And then what? You think torturing her would have given you everything you need to destroy the Morozov brothers? You wanted to watch them suffer, watch their businesses crumble before you finally killed them. That’s the long game. You’re thinking short-term. I’m thinking long-term. I’m meeting with her brothers soon. I’ll get you more shipment details. I can still do my job.”

Michael processes this for a moment, his anger slowly cooling into something colder. “Fine. Make sure you get those details. And clean up this mess. The real Ilya can’t wake up and talk to the police. When he wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t get to tell them anything. Make sure of that.”

I nod once. “Consider it done.”

As I walk away from the meeting, a bad feeling settles in my gut. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s there. The sense that Michael doesn’t fully believe me. That he’s starting to doubt where my loyalty really lies.

Now I have to go the extra mile to convince him I’m still on his side.

Because if he suspects the truth, everything I’m willing to burn for, could come crashing down.

When I step back into the penthouse, Milana is curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her, watching something on the TV.

The moment she sees me, a smile spreads across her face, soft, genuine, the kind that hits me right in the chest. It’s like a ray of sunshine cutting through all the darkness I carry. It makes the weight of the day feel a little lighter.

I walk over to her, lean down, and kiss her deeply. Every time I kiss her, I wonder why I waited so long.

What the hell was I thinking, denying myself this? Kissing her feels like coming home. Like drinking cold water after days in a dry desert.

I pour everything I feel into it. The relief of seeing her safe, the possessiveness that’s only grown stronger, the need I can’t seem to shake.

When I finally pull back, I sit on the couch and pull her onto my lap, her body fitting perfectly against mine. She settles there, one hand resting on my chest.

“How did the meeting with Michael go?” she asks quietly.

I run my hand down her back. “I’d like to think it went well. But I don’t think Michael fully bought my story about you not knowing the truth.”

She shifts slightly, looking up at me, worried. “Oh.”