Twilight Sins (Kulikov Bratva Book 1)

Oleg meets up with me as I’m mounting the stairs to the mezzanine level. “I talked to the head of security as soon as I got here. Security cameras caught them coming in, but the cameras upstairs are down,” he says. “They haven’t worked for over a month.”

Of course they’re down. Why should anything in my life be fucking simple?

“But Luna and Mariya went upstairs?”

Oleg nods. “And they were alone.”

Knowing they’re not on the main floor narrows the scope of our search, but not by much.

The mezzanine wraps around the entire club. People are writhing and dancing in the strobing lights everywhere I look. We make our way down one side without spotting them and are coming up the other when a woman in a see-through dress with stars over her nipples throws herself at me. “Buy me a drink?”

“No.”

She somehow manages to smile through a pout. “Buy me a drink and I’ll give you anything you want.”

A few weeks ago, I would have taken her up on her offer for no other reason than I was bored. I would have fucked this woman’s face, tossed her a few bucks for a drink, and carried on with my night.

Now, she’s repulsive.

I shove her into the leather chair behind her and she flips me off. “Asshole!”

I elbow my way through the crowd, earning glares and nasty looks from people until they realize who I am. Then they fall all over themselves to jump out of my way.

Oleg and I work our way down the other side of the mezzanine, but there’s still no sign of them.

“Upstairs?” Oleg suggests.

“You’re the one who dies if we don’t find them, so what the fuck do you think?”

He ducks his head and gets us through yet another velvet rope into the third floor VIP lounge.

We pass rows of private rooms I don’t even bother checking. Not yet. Because even the thought of my sister or Luna behind one of those doors is enough to make my blood boil. If I find them in there, everyone inside is dead.

I march down the hall and turn into the large viewing area at the back. The lights from the dance floor below flicker dimly off the dark red walls and black leather couches.

For a second, I don’t see anything. It’s not surprising. All the assholes who make it past the VIP rope prefer the anonymity that comes with the private rooms. They can’t pay to fuck waitresses and blow their brains out on drugs while a sea of people with cellphones are partying underneath them.

Then there’s a shift in the shadows.

I see a man standing in the corner, facing the wall. But there is another set of legs between his booted feet. The man shifts…

And I see her.

Luna’s face is pale white in the lights shining through the glass. Her eyes flutter like she can’t keep them open. Then she tilts her head. There’s a cut on her cheekbone, the beginnings of a bruise underneath it.

Oleg curses behind me, but I don’t hear him. I can’t hear anything beyond the rush of blood in my ears.

I cross the room in three steps, grab the dead man by the back of his cheap collared shirt, and drag him back. The sweaty material rips in my fist, but I still manage to fling him to the floor.

“What the fuck?” the man slurs. “Who are⁠—”

He looks up at me at the same time I finally see his face.

“You,” I hiss.

The asshole from the night I met Luna.

“Hey, man, I—” Sergey starts to explain, rumbling through excuses I don’t hear.

I’m too busy watching Luna slide down the glass as if her legs won’t hold her. Her dress is shoved up around her waist, a scrap of pale lace visible between her legs.

I turn back to where he’s still cowering on the floor. “What happens next will hurt you very, very badly.”

Sergey scrambles to his feet, but Oleg is there in a second. He pins Sergey’s arms behind his back.

Rage I’ve never felt before is coursing through my veins. I could slam my fist through his chest and rip his heart out right here and now.

But I can’t stop myself from turning back to Luna. I need to know if she’s okay. I need to know exactly how painful a death Sergey deserves.

One problem at a time.

I slip an arm behind her back and another behind her knees, carrying her over to the couch in the corner. Every inch of her, aside from the bruise on her cheek, is perfect. Fucking flawless.

“Yakov?” She blinks hard, struggling to keep her eyes open. “You’re… here.”

“I’m here.” I straighten her dress and brush my thumb over her swollen cheek. I might keep Sergey alive as long as this bruise lasts. By the time it’s beginning to fade, he’ll be begging for death. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay. My cheek hurts, but I’m—” Her eyes snap open all at once. She jerks back onto the couch, looking around wildly. “I was in here and he grabbed me. He was here. Sergey. Is he⁠—”

“Don’t worry about him.”

She shakes her head. “But he grabbed me. He told me I owed him. He was going to⁠—”

“He isn’t going to do anything to you.” Or anyone else. Ever again.

I run my hands down her arms, examining every inch of her.

“Am I okay?” she asks softly. “Did he⁠—”

“If you say it, I’ll kill Sergey long before I’m ready to.” Just the thought of him breathing the same air as Luna now has me clenching my teeth. I brush a few stray hairs away from her face. “I got here in time.”

She sinks into the couch cushions and sighs. “Is Mariya okay?”

My sister’s name rocks me back on my heels. I don’t need to look around the room to know Mariya isn’t here. We’re alone.

Luna takes one look at my face and sits up. “Sergey told me one of his friends grabbed Mariya and⁠—”

In an instant, I whirl around and grab Sergey by the throat. Oleg knows enough to let the man go and get the fuck out of my way. I drive him back against the glass wall hard enough that I hear his teeth clack together.

“Where is my sister?”

Sergey’s eyes go wide. “Your sister? I didn’t know⁠—”

“That’s not an answer.” I throw him against the glass again. This time, a small crack forms in the pane behind his head. “Try again. Where is my sister?”

“I didn’t know your sister was⁠—”

I release his neck and slam my fist into his face exactly where he hit Luna. The skin splits, blood instantly pouring down his cheek. The crack in the glass behind him splinters further.

He tries to inch away from the fall that wouldn’t kill him, though it would hurt like hell. I don’t let him. I drive him further into the glass.

“Where. Is. My. Sister?”

The glass begins to buckle under the pressure. I’m so tempted to shove him through it. First, I need him to reply.

“You don’t need to be able to walk in order to give me answers,” I growl. “I’ll shove you through this window, you worthless piece of shit. If your legs break in the fall, I’ll do you a favor and saw them off.”

I press harder against his chest. The glass groans. He whimpers and then the words pour out of him. “My friend! She went with my friend! They left through a back door before I came up here.”

The glass pane gives way just as I yank Sergey back. Shards rain down on the club two floors below. People start shouting, but I ignore them. I kick Sergey towards the stairs.

“Show me.”