Page 11

Daughter of Marko Kalishnik, and a certified Bratva princess. Royalty in stilettos—or pointe shoes, depending on the time of day. We don’t run in quite the same circles, but we do exist in parallel ones. She dances with Carmine’s wife Lyra, Nico’s new one-and-only Naomi, and their sister Bianca in the Zakharova Ballet company. I’ve seen her enough times to know the curve of her mouth, the sharpness in her glare.

To me, she’s always looked like she was born thinking she deserved a crown.

But last night, she looked like something else entirely.

Soft. Wild.Unhinged.

She ran like frightened prey.Squirmedlike frightened prey when I caught her. And when I had her bent over that piano with my hand over her mouth and her panties in my fist—I felt it. Not fear.

Need.

Maybe hers…but definitely mine.

And Ilet her go.

Okay, that’s not quite fair. She “got away.” My bruised fucking balls are certainly the main reason for that. But it was also thatI was simply too stunned to act. For the first time in years, Ihesitated.

Now, I can’t stop thinking about her. About the heat of her skin. The sound she made when I pinned her. The scent she left behind on my fingers.

She’s gotten under my skin. Into my blood.

And I don’t like it, not one fucking bit.

Grinding my teeth, I snatch my phone out of my pocket, tap on the Club Venom app, and bring up my conversation with the girl I wassupposed tobe hunting last night, who was certainlynotMilena fucking Kalishnik.

There’s even a fucking message from her—the other girl—waiting for me.

DanceGirlNYC

Did you have fun with your surprise? :P

DanceGirlNYC

Did she cry, lol?

My brows furrow behind my wolf mask.Speaking of psychopaths…

I glare at my phone as I type out a brutal reply.

TheMadKing

I don’t appreciate having my time wasted. At ALL. You have no idea who I am, what I’m capable of, or the kind of power I wield. If I discover who you are, I will pluck you out of whatever pathetic life you live and burn it to the ground while making you watch. My advice would be to delete this fucking app and stop playing tourist in a world you clearly have no clue about.

Then I block her profile and close the app, a smirk playing over my lips.

I’m not going to do any of that psycho shit. But people like that need to be scared shitless. Theydeserveto be.

…Also, it’s fun.

A presence materializes next to me, bringing me back to the here and now. I glance up to see the clawed, wide black antlers of The Stag's mask as he looms over me.

Okay, if we want to talk “Carmine-adjacent”, I mean…

Ding ding fucking ding.

The Stag is one of my oldest friends. All the Court fuckers are. It’s how all this insane shit started. The five of us—all sons and heirs of major crime families—attended Knightsblood University together. To some, Knightsblood is known as the “Harvard of the mafia world”. To others, it’s “mafia Hogwarts”. Honestly, I like that one better.

It was there that the five of us first donned the masks and held our first adjudication as The Black Court. Since then, we’ve become the stuff of legend.