Graduation (Kingmakers, #5)

by Sophie Lark

“How was Dubrovnik?” Not knowing what Sabrina told them, I respond with “Sunny.” Rafe snorts. “Alright. Keep your secrets.” “Don’t quote that fucking movie at me.” Since we were kids, Rafe has honed in with unerring precision on the most irritating lines from every film we’ve watched together, then deployed them relentlessly. “What movie?” he says innocently. “I liked you better when you were depressed,” I tell him. “Then you shouldn’t have brought Dad home, should you? Next time, think ahead.” “Don’t think ‘cause we’re the same height now I won’t beat the shit out of you.” Rafe cocks an eyebrow at me. “Same height? I’ve got an inch on you at least.” “Just fucking try me,” I snarl. “It was a long flight. I’m dying for some exercise.” “No thanks,” Rafe says. “I got enough of that at Kingmakers.” I sigh. “Those were the days. You were always sure of knocking someone out in the course of a week.” “Sometimes several people.” “Almost makes me miss it.” “Don’t worry—I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities for mayhem in Moscow.” “He’s not going there for mayhem,” my father calls back over his shoulder. He’s got the ears of a bat—always has. “ ‘Konechno net, otets,” I say. Of course not, Father. “I’ll follow all your orders to the letter. Just like you did at my age.” Fully cognizant of his own bad behavior, my father turns around and fixes me with a steely stare. “Now is not the time for levity, boys. We have many more enemies than friends. Especially in Moscow.” “I know. Th...