Page 42 of Blood Code

After a while, I opened my color-by-numbers app. It was boring as hell waiting, but Vitto's head had to be planted tonight.

But this was my ritual of sorts.

Cut it off, plant it.

Then there was family dinner tonight, and I'd invited my new fiancée to eat with Aurora and Mikhail.

So that was going to go swimmingly.

Aurora hated all new people… especially women.

But if I was going to pull off this engagement and alliance, I had to take it seriously. And since the fire, I'd barely seen Keira.

So family dinner it was.

Thirty minutes later, I grabbed Vitto's head by the hair and strolled upstairs without a care in the world. That lasted until I reached the landing and my stomach coiled like a cobra.

Because I'd walked straight into chaos. Maids screamed. Bratva men and guards milled around while Nika stood motionless, staring up at something in the grand entrance.

I approached her slowly, following her line of sight.

The sight nearly made me drop Vitto's head, because another severed head had been staked atop the ornate wooden newel post at the foot of the grand staircase.

But not just any head.

My father’s. Aleksandr Volkov, former head of the Russian mafia.

Without a head, it would be rather hard to remain the head of the mafia. Pun intended.

I suppressed a laugh. This ghost had a good sense of humor.

Well, there went my digging time. My jaw tightened because now I was going to have to deal with the aftermath of this and pretend I gave one fuck about my father.

Standing before his severed head, I searched for something—grief, anger, anything, but all I found was relief. He had never been a loving or good father to me. I was his heir, and as his heir, I was beaten into submission and forged into a leader through horrific acts. I wouldn’t miss my father one bit, and neither would any of his men.

Sure, they would pretend to care, but most would celebrate his death in private.

Unfortunately, I still had to pretend to care and investigate his murder. But at this point, I wasn't convinced her vengeance was wrong.

Besides, I highly doubted we'd find evidence that could reveal her true identity.

Did ghosts even have DNA?

Even if they did, there was no way this ghost had left prints or clues.

Dimitri and his crew dusted for fingerprints, took photographs, and documented everything they could find.

Time slipped away. One moment, I was staring at my father's head; the next, heels clicked across the limestone, and Keira appeared in the doorway with Neeve in tow.

Their mouths fell open as they took in the sight of me holding a severed head by its hair, with my father's head staked on the ornate banister behind me.

I imagined it was quite the show.

“I truly hope head is not on the menu for tonight’s dinner.” Keira laughed, glancing between my father and me. “I’m pretty sure that’s how one gets prion disease.”

“Oh, God.” Neeve shivered. Prions were terrifying to all doctors. “You know, sometimes I wish you were a little less smart and remembered fewer random facts, Keira.”

Keira shrugged. “I can’t really help it.” She turned back to me. “So I recognize the one on the banister”—she pointed to my father—“but who is the one in your hand?”