He didn’t have to spell it out. Everything is possible in this family.
I stare at Kirill through the rearview mirror. He sits with effortless charisma like a king. It’s scary how natural he is at looking calm and authoritative even when he’s doing a mundane task such as scrolling through a tablet.
His long, veiny fingers rest on the device with easy control. I can’t stop looking at his masculine hands. The fact that they could also be used for destruction doesn’t lessen the strange effect they have on me.
“Faster, Yuri,” he says without lifting his head, and a small smirk tilts his lips. “We don’t want to be late for saving my dear mother.”
This man is a psychopath.
I’m still shaking from the scene I witnessed near the highway. It looked like something right out of a movie but also so
