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Pulling myself together, I tried to shake the image of the man slumped brokenly on the floor, and joined the others.

Kisa saw me enter as she cleaned Luka’s wounds, his hands gripping tightly to his waist. As I saw them in the kitchen, and heard the byki moving to clear the van from the driveway, anger bubbled up threatening to erupt.

“Why did you bring that man here?” I blurted, my voice betraying every emotion I was feeling.

Kisa’s blue gaze found mine and I saw sympathy flood her expression.

“We needed to get him out of Brooklyn. This was the only place I knew where we could bring him to be safe,” Luka replied. I crossed my arms over my chest.

“And who is he, Luka? Who is this man you brought to our family’s house, disturbing what was meant to be my one real chance to get away from it all?”

“All of what?” Luka asked, his face marring with confusion.

“This!” I bit back, louder than I meant, and gestured to the basement. “A man you seem to have stolen from our enemy. All the Bratva shit I wanted to escape from for a couple of months. The violence, the fighting, everything! I’ve only been here a few days and you bring this to my door!”

Silence reigned after my outburst. Kisa dropped the rubbing alcohol she was holding. “Luka had to do it, Tal. He had to. He needed to honor his friend that died in the Dungeon’s cage.”

My eyes widened.

362 … 362 was the friend Luka had to kill in the cage?

I could see Kisa had realized that I’d made the connection. I briefly closed my eyes. That man chained in the basement was … “He’s 362’s brother?”

Luka’s sad eyes looked to me. “He had a twin. An identical twin.”

Luka looked down at the floor as though he could see through the partition to the man chained up in the basement.

“What?” I whispered, in shock.

Kisa, seeing Luka’s head hanging low as if in exhaustion, said, “He and his brother were taken as children, their family massacred and they were. They were…” Kisa pressed her hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. “They were experimented on for many years. Used as subjects for developing drugs. Anri, 362, was not completely susceptible, but Zaal was.”

Zaal, I thought, sounding the name in my head of the newly incarcerated man. His name is Zaal.

“He’s under the influence of some new drug, Tal. We’re not sure what it is or what it does, but Levan Jakhua has used him as his pet killer we believe since he was eight.”

This time bile rose to my throat as I imagined Zaal going through all that hell. “Bozhe moy,” I whispered. Kisa nodded her head. “Does our father know?” I asked. Luka’s head snapped up.

“Yes,” he replied with a curl of his upper lip. “He’s been no help.” I stepped back, instinctively moving away from my brother. Darkness filled his expression.

Kisa pressed her hands on either side of Luka’s face. “It’s okay. You got him out.”

“Why hasn’t our father been any help?” I asked. I watched Kisa’s face pale. I stilled, suspicion on my mind. “What?”

Luka looked my way and declared, “He’s a Kostava.”

It took me a moment to digest what he’d said. My heart started to race. A Kostava, I must have misheard.… “What did you say?” I asked again, my voice barely audible. My hand instinctively lifted to hold my necklace in my hands.

Luka wore a stormy expression, looking every inch the Bratva knayz, and repeated, “He’s a Kostava. He and Anri were the Kostava heirs.”

I stepped back, my eyebrows dragging down, as I absorbed my brother’s words. “What have you done?” I whispered in shock. I gazed upon my brother, who’d now risen to his feet. He looked like a stranger to me at this moment in time.

“I can’t believe you would do this!”

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