Page 151 of Dance of Defiance

He looks right at me. “You know I’d prefer if you did that outside.”

I roll my eyes. “Then next time, let mego outside, instead of keeping me locked in your goddamn study like an unruly fucking puppy.” I glare at him. “Iwillpiss on the rug next time, FYI.”

Vaughn sighs as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him.

“My people have strict protocols that they follow.”

He walks over to one of the windows and opens it.

No, I didn’t crack one when I was smoking in here. Yes, that was on purpose. I’m a petty fucker.

“Yourpeopleneed to lighten the fuck up,” I mutter. “Also, do they even know who I am?”

He glances at me. “Of course.”

“You sure? Because they always treat me like the weird cousin no one wants to sit next to at family dinner.”

“Val, we look virtually identical,” Vaughn sighs as he sits at his desk. “Even if they weren’t aware you are my brother—which they are—it would be obvious.”

I shrug. “Whatever. Anyway, what were you saying?”

I know what he was saying, and why he was saying it. I’m just…stalling.

Vaughn levels a look at me as I sit in one of the chairs across the desk from him. “I thought we had an arrangement,” he enunciates slowly.

“What arrangement would that be?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we really going to do this?” When I say nothing, he inhales slowly and drums his fingertips on the edge of his desk. “A heads up would have been nice, is all.”

Dasha. He’s talking about Dasha, and her disappearing act from the Bratva world along with that tall, sexy motherfucker Maks.

My relationship with Vaughn is…complicated. On the one hand, he’s my brother, my only living family. And even if I might have seriously conflicted thoughts about him leaving me there in that warehouse twenty years ago before he escaped with the Syndicate, I know he had his reasons.

He wanted something more for me.

I don’t blame the horrors that came later, with foster care and all that, on him. He saw the chance to hit the reset button on my life, and took it.

On the other hand, though, Vaughn is a lot more than just my brother. He’s “The Marquis”, which is, I've come to realize, much more than just a frilly title. In the Obsidian Syndicate, that titlemakes him agod-king, and with that comes insane power and responsibility.

But since we’ve reconnected, I’ve more and more come to realize that as well as being my brother and The Marquis, Vaughn doesn’t view the world or people the way most people do. To him, the world is a chessboard, and every single person in it is a potential pawn for him to utilize as he sees fit.

Even me.

Yes, we're brothers. But it’s become very clear to me that Vaughn has no issue using the fact that wearebrothers to manipulate me.

Part of it is my steadfast refusal to accept handouts from anyone. When Vaughn wanted to “gift” me the swanky new apartment and give me money so I wasn’t drowning in bills, I only took them on the condition that I’d “work” for him. That’s how I ended up babysitting Claudia Torvallés at Vaughn’s little dinner party that first night I ran into Roman.

But more recently, he asked me to plant a spy device on Dasha Lukashova.

…And Ididn’tdo that.

This is probably why Vaughn has called me here, has kept me locked in a room for half an hour, and is looking at me like this right now. It'sdefinitelywhy he opened with “I thought we had an arrangement.”

Because we did, and I didn’t keep my end of the bargain.

“Where is she, Val.”

I lift my shoulders. “Honestly? No idea.”