Page 28

The liquid burned twice—first my throat, then my pride.

"Perhaps our little brother should request lessons fromhis runaway girl," Kostya suggested, deftly rearranging his cards. "She clearly outplayed him tonight."

I gripped my glass tighter, jaw clenched as I absorbed the barbs.

This was tradition—when someone fucked up badly enough, we gathered for Durak.

The card game's name translated to "fool," and tonight, I wore that crown.

"Place your bets for the next round," Gregor announced, gathering the cards to shuffle again. "And while we're at it, who thinks Pavel will track down his runaway before she empties his gun into his thick skull?"

Damien snorted, raising his shot glass of vodka. "I hope she pistol-whips him. Would be a better love story than whatever the fuck this is turning into."

"I'll track her down," I countered, "and unlike some men, it won't take me three years to find her. We all know the only reason you two found Samara and Yelena was sheer dumb luck."

I turned to Damien, enjoying the flicker of rage in his eyes. "Didn't Yelena try to shoot you before you forced her to marry you? At this point, I'm still very much ahead."

"Strictly speaking," Damien corrected, raising a finger, "she never actually shot me."

"Only because you removed the bullets," Artem interjected with a rare smile.

"Still counts," Damien insisted.

"She pulled the trigger," Kostya pressed with a grin.

Damien smirked, pulling on his shirt cuffs. "It was foreplay. You wouldn't understand."

Gregor leaned forward and placed his hand onKostya’s shoulder. “Says the man whose girl knocked him out while his shriveled cock was still in his hand.”

Mikhail pounded the table with his fist as he laughed. “What did she use again?”

“A lamp,” offered Gregor with a smirk.

"Fuck you both,” Kostya countered with a laugh. “And strictly speaking she hit me before I could get my dick out.”

Gregor tossed his head back with a bark of laughter. “Somehow that’s even worse.”

Meanwhile, Damien raised his glass in mock salute. “To the fallen!”

After we all drank, I folded my forearms on the table and turned to Damien. “In fact, if we're keeping score, didn’t Yelena hit you with a fucking brick? Alina stole from me. She didn't try to kill me."

Mikhail reached for the vodka bottle. “Your gun.”

My brow furrowed. “What?”

“Alina stoleyour gunfrom you…not exactly an insignificant detail.”

I gave him the middle finger even as I pushed my shot glass toward him to fill.

Kostya gave me a wink. “Give my little brother a break. He wasn’t thinking with the right head at the time.”

The whole table erupted into laughter.

"You all realize I can kill you, right?" I asked mildly, arranging my deliberately poor hand.

Another aspect of being the Durak—playing at a disadvantage.

"Yeah, yeah." Gregor waved dismissively. "But not before you prove you're not the biggest idiot at this table."