Konstantin aka Viktor
It was hard turning away from Ayla when all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms and never let go. I wanted to soothe her worry and fear.
I wanted to hold her and tell her how much I missed her. Her voice. Her laughter. Her smile. Everything about her.
But I had something to deal with first. Someone to deal with…a past to put at rest. Another step in the game.
Another step toward the throne that only one person could hold.
There can only be one King.
And in the end, there would only be one King standing.
A promise made before, a promise to hold. A promise that would be fulfilled.
The door to his office was open, an invitation to enter. I found Alessio sitting behind his desk, looking just as dangerous as he always did.
His elbows were on the table, his chin resting against his steepled fingers. He stared at me with emotionless eyes, but I could tell they held plenty of promises. The anger was hidden but always there.
Alessio was silent, just calmly staring me. It was his way of making his enemies nervous and cower underneath him. I grew numb to those stares many years ago. They didn’t faze me any longer.
“I am thinking if it would be polite to offer you a drink.”
He finally broke the silence, his words loud and clear. Walking forward, I stopped beside the couch.
“That would be appropriate, but I am not here for a drink,” I drawled, crossing my arms.
He shrugged. “What are you here for then?”
I raised an eyebrow, chuckling lightly. “I am surprised you’re even asking.”
“Just trying to build up a conversation. I haven’t seen you in a year,” he replied, standing up to his full height, looking bigger and meaner.
“Right. I remember. The last time we saw each other, you left me for dead. After shooting me in the heart and my ass.”
He cocked his head to the side. “So you are here to return the favor?”
“That’s the plan.”
Alessio looked unfazed as he poured himself a drink, his glass full of brandy. He filled another glass before pointing it toward me.
I accepted the glass. “I think a drink is in favour. To warm ourselves up. The night is still young.” He spoke slowly, sipping as he stared at me.
With a raised eyebrow, he watched my reaction. Alessio was an asshole. Plain and simple. An arrogant asshole that I was tempted many times to shoot in the face.
Holding the glass to my lips, I poured the entire contents in my mouth, drinking the whole thing in one large gulp. It burned my throat, but only slightly.
Slapping the glass on the table, I rolled my shoulders. The tensed muscles started to relax, and I breathed out.
The corner of Alessio’s lips turned up slightly in a small smirk.
“You know, I should win a fucking Oscar for this shit. Hollywood would be stupid not to bag me as a lead role,” I started, feeling my own lips turning up. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”
He placed his glass down, next to mine. The smirk still was present on his face.
Alessio took a step toward me before wrapping an arm around my neck. His other hand went to my back, slapping me hard. And then hugging me.
I heard his voice over the roaring of my blood.
“Welcome home, brother.”
I wasn’t crying. I swear I wasn’t crying.