ANDREI
THE MANSION WAS silent. Not the kind of quiet that lets you breathe easy, but the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Pakhan was on edge—everyone could feel it, but no one dared say a word. The tension wasn’t about shipments or the usual Brotherhood bullshit. It was about the kid. The one who’d wormed his way into Pakhan’s head and into his bed. The thought churned in my gut, made something twist tight, but I kept it to myself.
I moved through the halls like a ghost. Every step was quick, every muscle coiled and ready. The boy was in the basement, bound and loud as always. He’d pissed Nikolai off. That much was clear.
The door creaked open, and there he was, loud, like this was a game to him. Didn’t even flinch when I pulled him up by the collar.
“Move,” I
