Everyone has been letting Yasha ramble for a few minutes uninterrupted, but suddenly, a voice cuts through the nonsense. “You really love to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”
My gun is in my hand before I even turn around. Because I don’t need to see who it is. I already know.
I turn to face Mikhail Sokolov.
“I told your father to keep you far, far away from me.”
He’s standing in the doorway, flanked on either side by guards who don’t stand a chance in hell of saving him from me.
“My father is my don, but he isn’t my keeper. I can go where I like.” Mikhail walks slowly into the warehouse, arms extended like he’s a f*****g circus ringmaster.
Yasha groans. “Well, so much for peace on earth.”
The Sokolov men have finished loading the weapons, but they’re all standing around watching thei
