KATERINA
There's something almost sacred about the first sip of coffee in the morning. I stand in the kitchen, letting the quiet settle around me as I pour the steaming liquid into my mug. The quiet is rare, and so is coffee that hasn't been scorched by some brute who thinks 'add grounds' means 'overload the machine.'
And for once, there is no shouting, no whining, no naked men or women doing the walk of shame.
Just me, my coffee, and the rare luxury of silence.
Naturally, that doesn't last.
The door swings open with a loud, heavy thud, and Nikolai Sokolov storms in like he's at war with the very air around him. He's shirtless, sweat glistening on his chest, hair damp and wild like he's just lost a brawl with a bear. He barely acknowledges me, making a beeline for the liquor cabinet like it's his only salvation.
He heads straight for the vodka, skipping any unnecessary steps like looking at me or taking an actual glass. He twists the cap, tosses it onto the counter, and drinks straight from the bottle.
"You know, most people start their mornings with breakfast... maybe even a shirt."
He shoots me a dark look before chugging more than half of the bottle.
Nikolai sighs, his hand rubbing his face in frustration. I can see the wheels turning in his head, some plot forming in that tangled mess of rage and vodka fumes. Finally, he fixes me with a strange look, one part frustration, one part...was he nervous?
He shifts, scratching his neck, staring down at the vodka bottle as if it might rescue him. "So...hypothetically...are you good at killing people?"
"I only do it for a living. If I weren't any good, I'd have starved a long time ago."
"Don't start with me, Katya," he mutters, giving me a scowl that would send most people running.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." I settle onto a chair, propping my feet up on the table, still nursing my coffee as I watch him. "Now, why are you in such a charming mood?"
He sets the bottle down with a huff, running a hand through his damp hair. "Hypothetically, if you knew a guy...who's dating a girl he doesn't even like, would it be insane to, I don't know, remove her from the picture?"
"Excuse me?"
"Let's say there's this guy—uh, Blandon," he says, shifting in his seat like he's sitting on a cactus. "And he's with this girl, um, Slara. But everyone knows Blandon isn't exactly...interested in Slara."
"Repeating the same thing with ridiculous names does not make it any clearer."
"Stop it," he hisses, giving me a look that could melt steel. "I'm trying to keep this discreet."
"Of course." I nod solemnly. "So your friend 'Blandon'—who is absolutely not anyone we know—is dating this girl 'Slara,' who he doesn't actually like but won't dump because, what, he's a wuss?"
"He's...stubborn," Nikolai mumbles, his face reddening. "He won't admit that he's...not interested in her, not like that. She's... she's just a cover. I mean, hypothetically, obviously."
I lean back, "So Blandon is more interested in, let's say, 'other pursuits'? Other...male pursuits?"
"Exactly," Nikolai perks up, "that's what it sounds like, doesn't it?"
"What it sounds like is a bunch of nonsense strung together by a kindergartner."
Before I can needle him any further, the door creaks open and Jeremy strides in, his bodyguard trailing behind with his usual quiet intensity.
YOU ARE READING
God of Vengeance : Vaughn x OC
FanfictionKaterina 'Silencer' Romanova In our brutal world, there's no such thing as the truth. Lies overflow until they become a reality. I may not remember, but this war is far from over. I'll have my revenge. No matter who stands in my way. And when I fin...
