Page 27 of Beautiful Ruin

A faint throb starts behind my eyes from the unpleasant realization that Nikolai is saying aloud what I have begun to think in private for the past few weeks and tried very hard to bury. The attack, the documents with Sofia’s name on them, the sudden intensification of Ivan’s plans around government infiltration before that… there are too many pieces moving on the board to remain in control of all of them.

At some point, something will inevitably fracture. It worries me that it may be our own and not something outside of this circle.

Nikolai steps away from the window. “I came because the Pact cannot afford uncertainty. Not while the government is turning inward and cannibalizing itself. Your enemies, whoever they are, are bold enough to strike at you out in the open. That is what needs to be focused on first.” He turns toward the door, signaling the end of whatever façades this meeting was intended to peel back. “Heal quickly, Ivan. The Pact needs you upright.”

I fall into step behind him out of protocol, escorting him the way I do with any guest who walks through these halls. The blade at the back. The man who makes sure no one leaves this house with more than they arrived with. We walk in silence down the long corridor. Halfway to the sitting room, Nikolai stops and I nearly collide with him.

He turns slowly, and his gaze settles on me with an intensity that makes the hairs on my neck rise. “You don’t actually believe it was another syndicate, do you?”

The question is so direct, I’m momentarily stunned into silence. My mind races, searching for the safest path through this minefield I’ve inadvertently stepped into. Speaking freely to Nikolai Malyshko isn’t something men like me do, not if they want to keep breathing.

“I serve my Pakhan. His assessment guides my own,” I say carefully.

“You are loyal,” he murmurs quietly. “Dangerously so.”

I don’t know how to answer that.

Nikolai’s expression remains unchanged. “Be careful where you plant your loyalties, Rowan. Your Pakhan has already stepped into waters that aren’t meant to be tread in. It would be a shame for you to also get caught up in the undercurrent.”

The warning hangs between us for a long moment, then he turns and continues walking as though the conversation never happened at all. I follow robotically, my pulse too loud in my ears.

When we reach the sitting room, Nikolai pushes the doors open and steps inside first. I pause in the doorway and find the woman from before rising from one of the armchairs, her figure graceful as she crosses the room.

My gaze slides past them to where Sofia is in one of the other chairs, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. Her eyes are wide with curiosity as she observes Nikolai and the woman. The moment our gazes lock onto each other, something inside my chest shifts uncomfortably.

The woman says something to Nikolai that he nods to, and then they are moving toward the door again. Nikolai pauses beside me on his way out, long enough to murmur quietly, “Choose your battles carefully, Vasiliev.”

Then they are gone.

8

SOFIA

The moment the doors shift closed behind Nikolai and Alina, I push myself to my feet.

The sitting room feels emptier the second they’re gone, as if the warmth Alina brought with her has been dragged out by her retreating footsteps. Rowan stands near the door, his broad shoulders squared and both hands loose at his sides.

His eyes are pinned directly on me. They narrow the closer I get to him until they are nearly slits by the time I’m standing directly in front of him. I have to tilt my chin up to hold his gaze, and for some reason I instantly hate that. It’s just another physical reminder of how much larger he is than I am. Some traitorous part of me notices the hard set of his jaw and the tired shadows beneath his eyes before I remember I’m supposed to be angry.

“What did he want with my uncle?” I ask.

His jaw flexes. I catch it easily because I’ve started to learn him now. He would hate knowing that. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

My hands fist at my sides.

I am so damn tired of that line. Every person in this house seems to think keeping me ignorant and unaware is an act of mercy for my sanity when all it does is leave me stumbling blindly while I try to find my footing and fail miserably.

My voice rises despite my best effort to keep it level. “Why can you never give me a straight answer?”

Whatever flicker of emotion I thought I saw in him disappears behind the blank cruelty of indifference. “That’s the only one you’re getting.”

“Rowan—”

He doesn’t wait for me to argue.

He turns and heads for the door, forcing me to either stand there dismissed or follow. The choice isn’t really a choice at all, quickly forcing me to catch the door before it swings shut and chase after him down the hallway. His long strides force me to practically jog to keep up.

He doesn’t so much as look back to make sure I’m following. Rowan has always acted like he’s accustomed to being obeyed by everyone unfortunate enough to fall into his orbit, and apparently, I am now one of them.