Page 137 of Cruel Romeo

“Oh, you will.” His grip bruises my arm as he leans in. “Because I already have his closest ally.”

His words root me to the spot. “His… ally?”

“That’s right.” His smirk sharpens. “Lev works with me now. At the meeting, he’ll turn. Petyr won’t see it coming. And when it’s done, when Petyr is gone, you’ll walk away. Our father will never know what you’ve been up to.”

My pulse pounds so hard I can’t hear anything else. Lev? Betray Petyr? The thought is impossible. I haven’t known him for long, but he’s practically Petyr’s shadow. His right arm.

And yet, Anatoli’s smirk tells me he believes it. Or wantsmeto believe it.

I keep my eyes on him and refuse to flinch.

Inside, though, my dread coils tighter and tighter.

“Walk now, princess.” He grabs me by the shoulder and pushes me forward roughly. “Or I’ll make you.”

My eyes dart around. The crowd is so thick that no one pays us any mind. They probably can’t even see what Anatoli is doing. To a passer-by, it might look like an embrace.

But there’s nothing warm or familial about his grip. Nothing human in the cold pits of his eyes. Only a dark, bottomless cruelty.

“Go back to your bodyguard,” he orders. “Act like nothing’s wrong. If you don’t, I’ll know.”

He finally lets me go. I shake myself free and rub my wrist, then search for Luka across the cafeteria.

I spot him near the back. He hasn’t seen me, thank God.

“Remember,” Anatoli growls, “we are your family. Not Petyr Gubarev.”

You haven’t been my family in twelve years,I want to spit, but I keep the reply to myself. Right now, I’ve got the short end of the stick. I’m in a crowded place filled with innocents, and Anatoli has never had any qualms about involving them.

I need to make him think he’ll get his way. To get him to back off and let me go home with Luka.

So I put one foot in front of the other and do what I’ve done until now:Survive.

Because if I don’t warn Petyr, no one will.

57

PETYR

“Get the fuck away from my brother!”

I lunge like a wild animal, my eyes locked on themudakin scrubs and the syringe jerking in his grip. I slam him into the wall, hard. He thrashes, elbowing, trying to claw his way away from me.

Like fuck am I gonna let him.

We start grappling. He tries to jab the syringe at me, but I dodge it by a hair. I have no idea what’s in that thing, and I don’t fucking want to find out.

If he was trying to slip it to Dimitri, it can’t be anything good.

I throw him off. His back slams against the bedrail. The IV line rattles with the impact. As soon as he gathers himself, he stabs at me again. Again, I dodge.

The needle comes within an inch of my neck before I pin his wrist against the wall hard enough that it rattles free. It bounces once and clatters across the tile.

Then I grab his fingers and twist until he screams.

“Had enough yet?” I growl and twist harder.

His arm makes a sickeningcrackthat echoes off the walls.