Fractured Ties by Bethany-Kris Page 0,44

asked for a favor.”

“How so?”

Kolya’s question was quiet, tight, and dark.

“That’s where Tomor is.” Konstantin let out a dry laugh. “Still alive, for now.”

A slow, cold smile spread over Kolya’s lips. The sight of it alone was enough to make a shiver crawl up Maya’s spine. She had only seen him wear that kind of smile once before—right before he attacked her father.

“Good,” Kolya murmured. “And then?”

“We were on our way to a different spot after the Tomor thing when we were attacked on the highway. Run off the road and shot at. I’m thinking the Albanians, likely. Considering I doubt Tomor had gone alone to grab Maya, and maybe they were answering me back for their man being downed by my hand. You know how the Albanians are when you kill or attack one of them.”

Silence echoed for a long while—long enough to make Maya uncomfortable, even if the warmth of Kolya’s hands holding onto her was soothing in some ways. She didn’t know why Kolya had suddenly turned into a statue after his brother spoke.

Kolya stiffened. His mouth opened like he was going to reply, but he hesitated. Konstantin didn’t miss it from across the room.

“What is it, Kolya?”

“I don’t think—”

Kolya didn’t get the chance to finish his statement before a man walked right into the clinic’s private room without as much as knocking or even announcing his presence with a hello. His gaze drifted to the doctor working quietly in the corner, and then to Konstantin leaning against the wall before moving to Kolya, too.

A second man came in right after him.

Maya didn’t care as much about the second man—he didn’t look nearly as pissed off or as angry as the first man did. He didn’t give off the promise of violence with just his presence alone like the first man was able to simply by strolling into the room.

“Vadim,” Konstantin greeted.

Kolya finally glanced over his shoulder, and Maya felt how his hands instinctively tightened their hold on her in an instant. “Vadim.”

The brothers’ greeting was not rude, nor unkind. And yet, their tones held little warmth or affection.

Even had Konstantin not said the man’s name right away, Maya still thought she would have known this was Kolya’s father simply by looking at the man. They shared the same strong features and ice-blue eyes. The square jaws and cut cheekbones were the same. Their statures were both large and tall, although Vadim looked as though some of his had migrated to his middle over the years.

Still, it was enough.

Their familiarities were clear.

“We had this handled,” Konstantin said to his father.

“Is that what you call this?” Vadim barked, gesturing at the wound his son sported. “And what in the hell were you thinking, no? You had no business stepping in on something that had nothing to do with you. You shouldn’t need to be told that. Getting in the middle of your brother’s fucking problem. You know better, Konstantin.”

“A problem you helped along,” Kolya said darkly.

Vadim’s head swung back in Kolya’s direction instantly. “Excuse me?”

Kolya said nothing, but he did turn around to face his father. Slowly, and with the grace of a sure predator unafraid of what might be waiting for him, he turned. Although, he made sure to stay close enough that Maya—even sitting on the bed—was practically swallowed by his size in front of her.

Like a wall between her and the danger.

His back was tense. His spine—ramrod straight.

She fisted the back of his shirt for reasons she didn’t even know. To keep him close maybe because some part of her just knew he wanted to jump the gun and bolt forward straight for whatever he felt was threatening her. Another part just wanted to feel him right then—maybe she could keep him calm. It seemed she was the hot button for Kolya. Or so Maya was learning.

All someone needed to do was suggest they were going to be some kind of problem for her, and Kolya was quick to flip his fucking switch on them. Violence and hell and pain all rolled into one and coming for whatever threat he saw as real.

It was terrifying.

Confusing.

And enthralling.

Vadim seemed entirely unaware of Kolya’s rigid stance or the thick tension in the room as he ranted on, unaffected. “You were told, Kolya! Step back, no? Let the Albanians have what they want and let the issue go. You were told—don’t deny it!”

“I—”

“And for what?” Vadim snarled, his gaze finally drifting to Maya over Kolya’s shoulder. Those eyes of