Empire of Sin (Empire #2) by Rina Kent

When I left my father’s house two months ago, I never thought I’d ever come back.

At least, not alive.

But here I am. In front of the black metal gate, waiting for the guards to open it. I don’t have to wonder whether or not they spotted me since countless cameras and drones survey the mansion.

If someone is stupid enough to consider intruding on the Pakhan’s house, they’ll have machine guns at their temples before they can blink.

The guards recruited to specifically protect the Pakhan don’t only rely on technology, though. They own countless weapons, some smuggled from Russia, and others from the merchandise they’ve acquired from arms dealers.

I’ve just seen the weapons vault once, and only because I was passing by when they were loading new guns in it. That thing resembled an army’s arsenal waiting to wage war.

Needless to say, I never went near it again.

Like Little Miss Ostrich, I pretended none of it mattered and I had nothing to do with it. Until I couldn’t keep up the façade anymore and I had to leave.

But now, I’m back.

Now, I’m sitting in front of the huge gate, staring at the blinking cameras. The guards must’ve seen me by now and told my father that the daughter who stole from the Bratva and he covered up for is back.

No clue what’s taking them so long. It couldn’t be because they don’t recognize me.

I stripped my hair and bleached it back to its original platinum blonde and I also removed the glasses and the contacts. I even wore a soft pink flowery dress and elegant high heels—the style everyone knows me by.

Just like that, Jane vanished. I snuffed her out as if she never existed.

I left my resignation letter with HR and two different letters to Gwen and Chris, apologizing for not being truthful about who I truly am and telling them that it’s better if they forget they ever met me.

Neither of them were supposed to happen in my new life, but they did, and for the first time, I realize that I’m capable of having friends.

It hurt to leave them, but it’s for their sake.

It’s for the best.

I’m back where I always belonged and foolishly thought I could leave.

And the worst part is, this isn’t the only thing I was so foolish about.

There’s also the belief that I could have a normal relationship.

My chest aches at the reminder of him, Knox, the man who showed me the world, but I left him with a bitter betrayal.

It’s been a day since he caught me with Daniel and left with that angry frown I wish I could erase. Only one day, but it feels like an eternity, like I haven’t seen him in forever.

The fact that he thinks so little of me adds insult to injury, but hopefully, with time, when he realizes why I’m doing this, he’ll understand.

The key word being hopefully.

Two guards appear behind the gate as it slowly creaks opens. They’re dressed in black suits and have assault rifles slung over their shoulders.

Then someone else walks through them, but it isn’t a guard. He’s a tall, bearded man who’s always protected me since I was a child.

It’s only been a short time since I saw him last, but he looks different, a little bit monstrous, even. Not that he’s ever been an angel, but I guess I only ever considered him a big brother. One who wouldn’t hesitate to break someone’s arm and smash another person’s face just because they touched me—even accidentally.

But that was before I turned my back on him and the brotherhood.

“Hi, Vladimir,” I whisper, unsure.

“Don’t hi me.” He has a thick Russian accent and a glare that can serve as a weapon. “Where have you been?”

That means Kirill and Adrian didn’t tell anyone about my whereabouts. That gives me less to worry about.

“Around.”

“Around isn’t a place.”

“It was nowhere important. Now, can I come in or are you going to keep interrogating me here?”

His lips press together, and I’m sure he has a million other questions he still wants to ask, but even he must realize this isn’t the place to do it.

“Follow me,” he grunts, then turns around without waiting to see if I’ll do as he says.

My feet carry me inside and my heart shrinks as the echo of the metal gate reverberates behind me.

It sounds final, as if I’ve signed some sort of a deal with the devil and will never be able to escape.

The guards fall in behind us as we step into the main building. The shrinking in my chest gets worse when my gaze falls on the giant painting in the entry hall.

A painting that Papa and my dead uncle—the previous Pakhan—put here for every visitor to see.

The clashing of angels and demons in a ferocious battle is depicted in raw detail. If you look closely, you can feel the blood coating your fingers and hear the howls of pain deep in your soul.

It’s an indirect message that lets everyone know what’s waiting for them.

It’s meant to bring assurance to every ally of the Bratva yet terrorize them in case they think of betrayal.

And I see myself in the dark side of the picture, the one that’s shadowed by the lighter color and unable to win.

I’m the slaughtered demon lying on the ground, clutching his chest and choking on blood.

My ominous thoughts are brought to a halt when Vladimir stops in front of the double golden doors of the dining room, where Papa conducts his meetings with the leaders of the brotherhood.