“Do you need something?”
I startle, but I subtly compose myself and turn around to face Viktor’s solemn existence. “I was searching for Boss.”
The stonelike man raises a brow. “In front of a closed door?”
“I thought maybe he was inside. I knocked.”
He remains expressionless, and it takes everything in me not to fidget. I swear he does it on purpose just to see me squirm.
But we’re not in the army anymore, and he’s not my direct superior. I lift my chin, but that does nothing to change his unwelcoming features.
“Boss is asking for you at the training grounds. Now.”
The best way to make me forget about Viktor’s presence? His stupid boss. There goes my attempt to avoid him for another day.
“Did he say why?”
“No.” Then he starts to stride out.
I make a face at his back. He turns around abruptly, and I pretend to be touching my hair.
“Move it, Lipovsky.”
“I prefer Sasha or at least, Aleksander.”
“And I prefer you not talk unless absolutely necessary, but we don’t always get what we want.”
Asshole.
I follow him to the training ground near one of the annexed houses. It’s basically a giant gym attached to an indoor pool, a sauna, and a clinic. The guards have everything here to stay in shape, day in and day out.
There’s no need to ask Viktor about Kirill’s whereabouts. I spot him in the middle of the fighting rings, watching the matches with a critical gaze.
He’s in his usual black pants and white button-down that’s rolled to his elbows. He appears pensive with his arms crossed and his glasses sitting up on his nose, giving him a dangerous edge.
This is why I’ve been trying to avoid him since that night. Hell, I’ve been trying to minimize our time alone since he found out my actual gender.
I just can’t stop looking at him the moment I see him. There’s no end in sight for my strange awareness whenever he’s around.
Upon noticing me, Kirill pauses, and I swallow thickly before striding toward him with mock confidence.
I take refuge in the fighting sounds of the other guards and the fact that Kirill and I aren’t alone, so no funny business can happen.
He steps into one of the sectioned rings on the floor and I follow him inside it.
My feet come to a halt in front of him, and I have to look up because he’s stupidly tall. “You asked for me?”
“Yes.” He uncrosses his arms, letting them fall to either side of him. “This is the next step of your training.”
“Next step?”
“You didn’t think the training you received at camp was the end of it, did you? That was merely muscle strengthening.” He runs his gaze over me in a mechanical manner that feels like fire. “You still have a long way to go.”
“Is it…because Damien’s punch knocked me unconscious?”
“It’s because he was able to land a punch when you were supposed to be detaining him. You’re a good sniper, but you won’t always have a gun on you. In the case of hand-to-hand combat, you’ll be greatly disadvantaged and possibly killed in the span of seconds. We need to fix that. On guard.”
“What type of training is this?”