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I punch his arm lightly. “Don’t be annoying.”

Viktor becoming head of enforcement in our family is no small thing. Not remotely. My uncle Sergei, Viktor’s father, held that role for years before his ALS worsened and forced him to step down. And this isn’t the kind of position you inherit just because your last name matches. You earn it. You prove you can carry it without embarrassing the bloodline or getting yourself killed in a week. He spent two months in Russia proving he deserved it. From the looks of him—the ease, the dark amusement, the way he moved through the door like a man who has recently settled something inside himself—I think he came back certain.

“I’m heading out,” Anton announces, straightening his jacket as he moves toward the door. He glances at the room with the expression of a man who has mentally closed the tab on this entire evening. “You can do whatever you want with the rest of them. But you heard Tristan, keep at least two alive.”

“We’ll try,” Igor says with a devilish smile.

Anton glances at him. “Keep two alive.”

“Yes, boss.”

Anton gives him one last flat look, then walks out. The door shuts behind him.

“Right,” I say, turning back to Viktor. “Now that the authority figure has left. Mayfield tonight? To celebrate the appointment and your general return from surviving Russia?”

Mayfield is one of our favorite spots. It’s owned by our cousin Valerie, who pretends to hate when we bring our asses into her club.

Viktor pulls a cigarette from his hoodie pocket and shakes his head.

“Not tonight.”

I stare at him. “Why not?”

“I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Alex arches a brow. “You mean someone to stalk.”

Viktor says nothing but smirks instead.

“I thought you were supposed to be going to Korea today,” Alex adds. “To visit your grandparents. You know, the elderly people who love you for some reason.”

“Shibal.” Viktor mutters under his breath. It’s a Korean swear word meaning ‘fuck’.

I snort.

“I’ll go this weekend,” he says, waving the cigarette vaguely.

“You said that last week.”

“And I’ll say it again next week if I have to. I’m consistent,” he says stubbornly, pulling a hair tie off his wrist and gathering his shoulder-length hair back with it.

It’s a pink hair tie. Viktor don’t do pink and I sure as shit know that’s Tyler’s hair tie.

“You stole that, didn’t you?” I say with a raised brow. “Because I know for a fact Tyler hates you too much to give you any of his stuff.”

“I didn’t steal it,” he grits out with an eye roll. “I just took it.”

“Yeah right,” Igor snorts. “He’s gonna gouge your eyes out when he sees you.”

“Can’t wait.” Viktor replies immediately.

Igor leans toward me slightly and says, very quietly, “He’s crazy.”

“He’s always been crazy,” I say back at the same volume. “We’re all crazy. This is just what it looks like when the crazy has a romantic subplot.

Chapter 21

MAKSIM