Daniyella's soft steps were almost imperceptible, but I heard them. I didn't turn to look at her immediately.
Daniyella cleared her throat softly and spoke, "Есть звонок для вас от Кайла."
(There's a call for you, sir, from Kyle.)
I straightened slowly as I forced myself to break the spell my little bird had cast over me. That bastard had impeccable timing, as always.
Without looking at Daniyella, I muttered, "I'll take it in my office."
Daniyella bowed. She'd grown used to my moods. She was one of the few who didn't flinch under my gaze, one of the few who didn't shrink from the darkness I carried.
I glanced at her finally, noting the way she stood at attention, her sharp military posture. She'd been my eyes once, back when blindness had nearly taken everything from me. A trusted ally, yes, but also someone who knew too much.
"Make sure no one disturbs her." My gaze flicked back to my little bird, still asleep, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that felt like a fucking metronome to my thoughts. "And give her a blanket."
Daniyella hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes darting to my little bird before returning to me.
"Is there a problem?" I asked sharply.
She shook her head. "Нет, сэр."
(No, sir.)
"Good."
I turned on my heel as I strode toward my office. The moment I was out of sight, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my hands clenching into fists.
Kyle.
I reached my office, slamming the door behind me harder than I intended. The phone sat on my desk, its screen illuminated with Kyle's name.
I snatched it up. "By any chance you're spying on me, Molotov? Cause you surely got a freaking timing."
"If it includes you being a pervert, I assume my timing is impeccably good," My jaw tightened. He knew better than to push me too far, but that didn't stop him from trying.
"What is it?"
"There's been movement on the Morozov," he said. "Vlad Morozov is turning the position to his nephew."
I ran a hand through my hair. The Morozovs got the balls. Always a thorn in my side.
"The kill Vlad," I said curtly. "I'll handle the rest."
Kyle let out a low whistle. "Straight to the point, as always," he drawled. "Morozov's no fool. He's fortified himself tighter than a virgin's chastity belt. This won't be simple."
I ignored the jab. Vlad Morozov. A relic of an era that should have been buried long ago. He thought he could pass the reins to his incomepetant nephew and keep his bloodline alive in the game. Thought he could outmanoeuvre me.
He was wrong.
"Location," I demanded.
Kyle hesitated. "He's hosting a gathering at his estate tomorrow night. Nephew's formal introduction to the family's allies. Security's going to be tighter than hell, Judas. Getting to him-"
"Getting to him is what I do." My voice was ice. "Send me the details. Everything. Guest list, floor plans, guard rotations."
"You're not seriously thinking of going in there yourself?" Kyle asked incredulously.
"I'm not thinking, Kyle. I'm going there."
His sigh crackled through the phone. "This could get messy."
"Messy is my specialty," I said before hanging up.
I leaned back against my desk. Vlad would expect me to come for him, of course. He'd surround himself with his best men, his most trusted allies. He'd think he was untouchable in his fortress of glass and gold.
But every fortress had a weak point.
And I would find it.