KNIVES AND HEARTSTRINGS

CHAPTER 17:ANDRONIKOS

She’s not talking to me? Why isn’t she talking to me?

Uh, maybe it’s because you threatened her and her family, my brain oh-so-helpfully supplied.

I cringed— a rare occurrence. Not my finest moment, sure, but I’d done worse. Much worse. She needed a reminder of her place. Besides, she’s the enemy and just because she’s stunningly beautiful with legs I’d love to see wrapped around my head doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about eviscerating her entire family.

Adira had been giving me the silent treatment since the moment she entered the car, her icy indifference grating on my nerves. I didn’t have to make her stay with me—technically—but something in me wouldn’t let her go. Obsession? Probably. I wanted her close. Needed her close. It wasn’t enough to hold her captive; I wanted her in my home, my space, and, ideally, under my control.

Her silence dragged on, bringing a sneer to my face and I made it known to her. Casually of course.

“You know, Flogítsa mou,” I said waving a hand toward her. “You keep up with this little game of yours and I’d be more than happy to take you over my lap again.”

The fire in her eyes when she spun around to argue was enough to make me grin. I loved her anger—the way it flared and consumed the air between us.

“For someone who just threatened my family, you’ve got nerve talking to me,” she hissed, jabbing a finger in my direction.

“Well, technically, I didn’t threaten them,” I said innocently. “I merely said I’d remind you painfully of who I am. Huge difference.”

Her jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as her face reddened with fury. For a moment, she looked like she was trying to summon the strength to strangle me.

“I really don’t know why I bother with you,” she finally said, turning away to resume ignoring me.

Nope. Not happening.

“Adi-”

My phone buzzed, cutting me off. A call from one of my men.

“What?” I barked into the phone.

“There’s been an update concerning the brothers.”

“And?” I snapped.

“We found two sources—associates of his. They’re currently in the basement.” He carried on, his words not clear. Something about decoding a message they’d sent before they died, though the sender remained a mystery. Frustrating.

Fuck.

“I’m on my way.” I ended the call with a curt order for him to handle it until I arrived. Dialing Iason’s number, who was in the car up front, I informed him to take Adira to my penthouse. My ‘unacknowledged’ obsession with her won’t let me allow her near any man other than me, but I trust no one better than Iason with her safety. I motioned for the driver to stop the vehicle. I could feel Adira’s gaze burning holes through my face, but I ignored her.

“What’s happening?”

“Iason is going to take you to my home.” I said turning to face her. “If you need anything, tell him. I have important business to attend to.”

She stared at me for a while-something she seems to like doing recently- before stepping out to meet Iason outside.

Turning to regard my most trusted man, I said to him, “Keep her safe.”

“Yes, Nónos.” He said with a slight smirk before leading Adira to the car. After ensuring that they’d safely driven off, I turned to my driver.

“Move.”

************************************************

The Meatpacking District smelled like desperation and rot—a fitting backdrop for the night. I parked the car outside the cold storage facility/slaughterhouse—the main reason I had acquired the place—and walked in alone as I’d dismissed my driver beforehand. The building’s looming brick façade blended seamlessly with the neighborhood’s industrial grit. Inside, the air smelt heavily of damp concrete and the faint metallic tang of blood.

As I went down into the basement, the sound of muffled whimpers and wet, labored breathing reached my ears. My men had been busy it seems. The two associates of the late Aslan brothers were strung up like bad Christmas decorations. One was missing an eye, his face a Picasso of bruises and swelling. The other had clearly donated a few fingers and toenails to the cause. Generous guy.

"Took you long enough," Iason said from the shadows, his tone clipped. Hmmm, seems he dropped her off without losing some limbs.

"Traffic," I muttered, spinning Tuto—my knife—in my hand as I moved closer to the hapless pair. The blade flashed in the dim overhead light, and one of them actually sobbed. I wasn't going to use it, but little theatrics never hurt. Well, not me, anyway.

"Let's get this over with." I came to a stop in front of the one missing his fingers. His stumps were wrapped in blood-soaked rags, and his whole body shook like a broken metronome. "You look like you're having a really bad day. Want to brighten up mine? What does 'She's coming for her' mean?"

The good eye of the man flitted around the room like a rat in a trap, his lips quivering. "I-I don't know," he stuttered out, his voice hoarse from screaming. "It's-it's but a whisper! In the underworld!

An eyebrow quirked up as I flipped the knife in my hand. The action made him flinch so hard he nearly fell out of the chair. Ha "A whisper?" I repeated. "You're telling me you went through"-I gestured to his mutilated hand-"all of this, and you're still useless? Fascinating."

Please!" he yelled, tears brimming down his dirty face. "That's all I know! They said it's someone with power, someone dangerous, but we don't know who!"

Of course, of course, that has to be it-somebody with power. What other explanation could there even be?

Iason crossed his arms and leaned back into the wall in the most patronizing way he could manage with a disapproving look that screamed-Why bother with them at all?

The second man, the one missing an eye, managed to chime in through his sobs. "We swear! That's all we know! Please, just let us go!"

I sighed, the sound heavy with dissapointment. They were telling the truth-or at least as much of it as they knew. This wasn't the breakthrough I'd hoped for, and the whole thing was a waste of time. Worse, I could've been home dealing with Adira's sharp tongue and sharper glares instead of standing in this blood-soaked hellhole.

At least I won't return to my little flame drenched in blood. Don't want her terrified now, do we?

"Finish them," I ordered my men, flicking Tuto shut and slipping it back into my pocket.

They nodded and moved toward the pair with grim efficiency. The room erupted into a fresh wave of screams as I turned and made my way up the stairs. I wasn't in the mood to get my hands dirty tonight.

Iason followed me outside, his footsteps echoing against the cold pavement. "We're at an impasse," he said as we approached my car.

No s**t," I growled, unlocking the door. "Keep digging. I want answers."

"What about Adira?" he asked, his voice tinged with something perilously close to amusement.

I sent him a glare. "What about her?"

He shrugged. "You're not exactly subtle, boss. Just sayin'.”

I tuned him out and slid into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. Adira was waiting at the penthouse, and I couldn't quite decide whether I wanted to throttle her or kiss her. Maybe both. Either way, she was going to have one hell of a time explaining why she kept crawling under my skin.

It’s not like it’s her fault. Of course, my brain chose just then to pipe up. I will have to go pay some neurologist to go in and examine the accursed organ.

The car roared into life and I sped off into the darkness, leaving screams and pandemonium behind.

I sent in cleanup orders and texted Adira, hoping she was getting comfortable in the penthouse.

Me: Did you behave yourself?

Flogítsa mou: Define "behave."

Me: Not committing murder.

Flogítsa mou: Disappointing you already? You should get used to it.

Me: You're already on my bad side, darling.

Flogítsa mou: Oh, no. Whatever will I do?

By the time I reached the condo, I was fantasizing about the ways I was going to devour her when I saw her. But my mind screeched to a halt when I stepped inside.

The place was a mess. Lamps were destroyed, furniture overturned, cushions ripped open as if they had personally offended her. She hadn't spared my room either; somehow, she'd picked the lock and wreaked destruction in it with vengeance.

And there she was, lying on the couch in one of my robes, eating popcorn and slurping down soda, like it was just a casual Friday night. The huge smart TV mounted above the fake fireplace was blaring some obnoxious reality show.

Is that… Keeping up with the Kardashians?

Guess you were busy," I said, surveying the c*****e. Of all the things I expected her to do, this was definitely not on my list.

She didn't even look up. "Oh, you're back. Took you long enough." She said, throwing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. "Like the new décor?

I should have been furious. I should have been livid. Instead, a slow smile spread across my face. Her defiance, her revolt—it was exhilarating.

"It's lovely, Flogítsa mou."

This was going to be fun.