Lies of My Monster (Monster Trilogy #2) by Rina Kent

Yuri even has a special program for me that I’ve been following to hone my skills to a T, and I never skipped a day of strength training.

Unlike Viktor and Maksim, Yuri isn’t as strong in combat and always withdraws or has a subpar performance in physical training. However, he’s the best teacher alive. Unlike Kirill, he doesn’t teach using force or terrorizing methods. He’s more of a steady progress type, and it’s been working perfectly for me.

He’s patient and understanding, and most of all, I feel like I’m going out to see a friend whenever we have our daily sessions.

“I’m warning you, pretty boy.” Damien balls his hand into a fist. The veins pop on the tattoos decorating the back of it. “If you don’t move right this instant, I’m going to break your fucking neck and feed your fucked-up corpse to my dogs.”

I don’t change position. In fact, my shoulders snap backward, and I jut my chin forward, ready for the fight. Damien’s upper lip lifts in a snarl as he steps forward. Before I can get into a defensive position, large hands fall on my shoulders from behind, pressing down, then effortlessly pushing me to the side.

Or maybe it’s so easy for him because I’m too dumbfounded to think or react. Kirill steps in front of me so that he’s toe to toe with Damien, and the only view I have is of the taut muscles of his back.

Ever since he recovered from his injuries, he’s been spending all-nighters at the gym or doing hand-to-hand with Viktor. As a result, he has gained more muscle than before.

His shoulders have broadened, and his physique has sharpened to a level that looks more menacing than when we were in the army.

This noticeable change in his build certainly doesn’t help when I’m trying to stop being affected by his presence, warmth, and intoxicating scent that I’m currently breathing into my starved lungs.

Kirill slips a hand in his pocket and tilts his head as he speaks to Damien in a bored tone. “As I told everyone inside, and you obviously weren’t listening, this war is draining our resources and offering nothing in return but some form of entertainment for you. Therefore, it’s tasteless, needless, and, most importantly, profitless. It’s more logical to work on gaining allies than indulging in meaningless wars.”

“Blah, blah, and fucking blah!” Damien gets in his face. “Those wars are my only source of entertainment and the one thing I do best. If you take them away, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Take a rest and work on your anger issues?”

“Only if I get to kill you. Pretty sure my anger issues would be fucking resolved.”

“I will refuse that offer, but here’s another one for you. How about you explore endeavors other than fighting like a madman? Don’t you get bored?”

“Fuck no.”

“You need other sources to help you let go of all this toxic energy. How about you learn more effective ways to invest your fortune? I can help.”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “Does that mean you finally agree to fight me?”

“How did you get that from my last sentence, I wonder?”

“The fact that you killed my fun and are under obligation to offer me something in return, or I will break your fucking neck while you sleep.”

“That won’t be possible, but here’s the deal.” Kirill clutches Damien by the shoulder, and I step to the side to get a better view of him.

His face is serene, calm, and since he’s kept the light stubble after his injury, he looks like a different type of beast. He’s scarier, more closed off, and…unreachable.

I can watch from afar, but it’s impossible to touch him. It’s even more impossible to know what he’s thinking anymore. It’s like he locked himself in a vault and threw away the key.

“Allow me to invest twenty percent of your assets. One condition, though. I get fifty percent of the gains.”

“You fucking high? Fifty percent?” Damien, who everyone knows doesn’t give a damn about finances and would’ve already gone bankrupt if he didn’t have the right people by his side, thinks that amount is crazy. “My broker guy takes care of my investments. I don’t need you.”

“I’m telling you that, even with my fifty percent cut, I can give you more than what your broker currently does.”

Damien narrows his eyes, seeming frustrated, then he lifts his hands in the air. “I don’t give a fuck about money. So if this is the master plan you came up with to dissuade me from stopping that war…”

“I’ll get you another war.”

Damien pauses, and his eyes shine like a kid who’s found countless presents under the Christmas tree. “How soon?”

Kirill adjusts his glasses with his middle and ring fingers. “Pretty soon.”

“If you’re fucking with me—”

“If I don’t give you that war in the span of a few months, I’ll fight you.”

“Not months. Only one month, and even that is fucking pushing it. I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do during all that time. I might start killing people randomly, and no one wants that drama in their lives, now, do they?”

“You need to rein in the fucking craziness, Damien. It’s your weakest point and the only thing that’s holding you back from moving up.”