Page 66 of Stay Toxic

“So, how do we feel about it all now?” My cousin leans into the private jet’s cream armchair, smiling in a way I’ve rarely seen.

He got to shoot Cole’s lover and the bodyguard. Apparently, Markus is never as relaxed as after murdering someone.

“Really? You want to discuss my feelings?”

He shrugs. “I let you come. I have to take responsibility for the backlash. It’s one thing to order a job, but you do it yourself, there’s no going back. Especially if you enjoy it.”

I think it through for a moment.

I said it myself to Hestia: I’m a normal guy, raised in a loving home, without drama. And sure, half of my family is borderline insane, not to mention tied to the bratva, but that hasn’t really touched my life. Markus is right; this isn’t something I would have seen myself doing.

But that was before Hestia. There’s a clear threat to her continued wellbeing and I quite simply had to remove it, for good. I was driven to see it done, to do it myself.

“A bit numb, to be honest? Like, detached. I’m not particularly bothered one way or another.”

That’s wrong, right? I should be bothered about shooting someone. Especially a woman. But she deserved every bit of it. In fact, she deserved worse; she only got away with a quick, clean death because that was the best way to handle it while pinning the blame on Joseph.

“That’s pretty normal,” Dez assures me. “Did you like it, though?”

“Not particularly. It was just necessary.”

My cousin nods. “I figured you wouldn’t. Just one and done for you, then.”

My thoughts drift to the one loose end still breathing: the boy who thought he had every right to turn up to Hestia’s dorm and demand to be let in.

“Unless it becomes necessary again.”

There may be another way to handle him, and anyone like him. But there’s no doubt in my mind that if another threat presents itself, I won’t hesitate.

“What do I owe you?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. “For your help.”

Whatever it is, it’s gonna be an arm and a leg.

“You know that’s not how he works. Dimitri would never make one of us pay. He’ll cash in the favor when he’s good and ready. But don’t worry. He’s fair to family.”

“You’re his cousin, not me.”

I barely even know Dimitri Volkov, the man whom this jet belongs to, and the team that helped, and well, Markus.

“I’m his favorite cousin, though.”

“Do you ever mean that when you say it?”

“No. But it gets me what I want. That and the cheekbones.”

He flashes me his best smile, the one that makes Auntie M let him get away with literal murder, and I roll my eyes. “You know, you could ask for things instead of manipulating your way into it.”

Markus rolls his eyes. “But then people might say no.” The humor vanishes when he says, “It only goes two ways, once someone gets a taste of blood, cousin. I think you’re right—you’re done. You’re not the type to want more. But if you do, come to me, yeah? At least let me handle the cleanup.”

Some days, I genuinely believe I’m a normal guy. Other times, my cousin helps me murder three people and offers to assist me if I ever feel like offing a few more.

Which I might. The idea of taking care of Robert permanently has its appeal.

Although there’s a far more pleasurable way to ensure he can never touch Hestia’s legacy.

* * *

That night, when I go home at close to one in the morning and watch the girl sleeping in my bed, I smile, before waking her with my mouth.