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“I won’t talk unless I see my wife, so if you want to kill me, then go right ahead. But as you know, you won’t get anything out of my corpse.” “You think I won’t kill you?” Vladimir pulls his gun from his waistband and points it at my temple. “You’ve always been a pest who didn’t belong in the brotherhood. I don’t care what Nikolai or Sergei see in you, or that you think you’re all that just because you eliminated some targets like a fucking dog for hire. You have no loyalty, know no principles, and follow no morals, and because of that, you don’t belong here.”
“The only person I’ll talk to is my wife.” Why do I keep calling her my wife when she betrayed our vows?
But I guess I betrayed those first when I turned our wedding into a bloodbath.
traitor wanted to see her handiwork for herself. Well played, Rai. Well fucking played. But instead of divulging my true emotions, I grin, showing her my bloody teeth. “Vladimir here seems to have a misconception, Princess. Save me from his kinky games.” “Stop being a smartass,” she says in a monotone voice, crossing her arms over her chest. “That won’t work on us.”
Wait a fucking second… “Does this mean you never lost your memories?” “No, but I fooled you, didn’t I?” Bloody hell. She did. She really did, and I had no way of focusing enough to uncover the lie because I was worried about her safety. I completely let go of my logical side in favor of the fucking thing beating inside my chest.
“What makes you think I have something to say?” “I heard you talking on the phone the day I fell down the stairs, Kyle. I know what you’re planning.” Fuck. Was I too loose? Usually, I wouldn’t let my guard down, but I was still on painkillers at the time. Not that blaming the meds will solve the issue at hand.
“Was anything you ever told me true?” “Depends on what I told you. Which part?” “You have no remorse whatsoever, do you?” “If you’re expecting me to feel sorry for going after the people who slaughtered my fucking parents in front of my eyes, then no, I have no bloody remorse whatsoever.”
“Stop saying things like that.” “Like what? That I’m proud of you?” “Yes. I don’t want you to be proud of me.” “Well, I am. I told you that, once cornered, you need to hurt, bite, and kill your way out, and that’s exactly what you did.” He coughs, blood dripping down his chin and soaking the collar of his shirt further. “You’ve come so far since Nikolai passed away. You didn’t let his or your parents’ deaths affect you. You just held your head high and forged ahead.”
He nods once then winces. “I’ve been ready for thirty years. The time I lived until now has been a ticking timer until I get my revenge.” “Then what?” “Huh?” “After revenge, what were you planning to do?” He shrugs as if that’s not important. “Go back to England and take on contracts. That sort of thing.” “Then go.” “What?”
A man who gets off on chaos should never be taken lightly, because you never know when he’ll get bored and instigate said chaos.
“Fine, but if he shows up again, I’ll fucking murder him.” “If he shows up again, I’ll do it myself.” Vlad gives me an undecipherable glance as if he doesn’t believe me, but leaves it at that.
No answer comes to mind, but tears do. They won’t stop, and I fall asleep with my eyes wet and my heart in shreds. Soft fingers wipe them away before they slide down my body. I startle, eyes snapping open. A large shadow looms over me. I scream, but his hand muffles any sound I might make.
“You didn’t really think you would get rid of me, did you, Princess?”
“Pretend this is seven years ago and leave without looking back.” “I’m not doing that again.” “Why the hell not? You did it just fine before.” “I can’t do it again.” The quiet in his voice, the vulnerability in it shatters my walls one by each damn one.
“You don’t fucking push me away.” “You…don’t understand…” I’m panting so harshly it’s a miracle I manage to get those words out. “I understand perfectly. It’s you who doesn’t. You’re my wife. My. Fucking. Wife. Do you understand what that word means? It means we belong together, not far apart.” “But—” “No fucking buts.”
“Drink your tea and leave me the fuck alone.” “I can’t leave you the fuck alone when the brotherhood depends on this meeting.” I grab the bottle and yank it away, causing droplets to fall on his shirt. “You’re hard to handle sober, so there’s no way in hell you’re getting drunk on a day like this.” He licks his mouth, wiping away the droplets of vodka that stuck to his upper lip. “Are you this bossy in bed, too? That lucky bastard, Kyle.” “More like poor bastard,” Kirill mutters. “Lucky or poor is none of your business.”
“Tell me, I’m curious.” Damien leans his elbow on the table. “What made you settle with Kyle, of all the men who surrounded you all your life? You had much better options. Hint: me.” “He understands me better than anyone else,”
“How does one even begin to understand a witch?” Kirill asks. “You would never know because when you start, you’re already under my spell.” “Holy fuck, that must’ve hurt.” Damien barks out a laugh. “You okay there, Kirill? Want me to get you something for the burn?”
glare down at him, but he just sips from the bottle. “What? Surely they know how I am if they specifically asked for me. Right, old man?” The motherfucker. I curse inwardly, but I pause when Abe laughs, wrinkles forming around his eyes, then speaks in a subtle Japanese accent. “Always a black sheep, Damien.”
“Auntie!” I freeze, the phone nearly clattering to the ground at the small voice. My head jerks to the left and my gaze lands on my nephew’s little face. On his dreamy green eyes and soft features. Gareth. He’s a few feet away, smiling up at me with pure innocence, showing his baby teeth. Shit. Fuck.
A man crouches and picks Gareth up. “There you are, troublemaker. I told you not to call strangers auntie.” A breath heaves out of me at seeing Asher. He gives me an impersonal smile as if it’s the first time he’s seeing me and nails the role so well. “Sorry about that.” “Don’t worry about it.” I make sure Aleksander sees my fake smile.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to Asher, who nods in understanding before he takes a protesting Gareth inside. My chest aches at the inability to hold my nephew or kiss him. It’s better this way, for his sake. Once again, I type in the group chat.
“You can’t disrespect Abe that way, Damien. He’s one of the strongest allies we can have.” Kirill readjusts his glasses. “And he will become our worst enemy if this bull kills his daughter in one of his violent episodes.” “You hurt women?” I snap at Damien. He continues sipping from his vodka before he lowers his mouth to my ear. “When they get close, yes. Why? You want to test it?”
I’m about to gouge his eyes out when the car swerves and comes to a screeching halt. The force is so strong that I bump against the back of Aleksander’s seat. “What is it?” Kirill barks at his driver in Russian. “Don’t know, sir. There’s something on the road—” His words cut off when a shot lodges straight in his chest. Aleksander gets his gun out, cursing, but it’s too late. Gunshots erupt from all directions. We’re under attack.
Kirill I have interesting scenery in front of me, so I thought I would share. My hold tightens on the phone when he sends a picture taken in a traditional Asian restaurant. Rai is smiling, sitting between Damien and Kai, and the latter has his fucking hand on her thigh. That’s it. That fucker’s date of death is only a matter of time now.
Adrian retrieves his phone and pauses at Kirill’s name flashing on his screen before he answers. “Volkov.” I’m close enough to hear the gunshots through the phone. Pop. Pop. Pop. Shouts in Russian and another very familiar language filter through. “Motherfucker!” Kirill curses in Russian before he yells, “We’re under attack! Send backup!” The line goes dead.
“How much do you have left?” I ask Kirill. “Five.” He fires a bullet, hitting an Albanian in the chest. “Four.” “They keep multiplying like fucking cockroaches.” Damien kills two more, but the others continue approaching, using the cars as shields.
There are still a lot of them, and Aleksander is most likely out of bullets, his feminine features creasing with exertion. He stares back at us—or more like, at Kirill—and mouths, “Prosti menya.” Forgive me. “No!” Kirill completely ignores the bullets and barges to his second in command.
He howls in pain and I use the chance to try to snatch his rifle. A black bag is shoved over my head from behind. My nails dig into the fabric, but it’s strapped so tight that no air comes in. Worse, I’m breathing some sort of a funny smell. I kick my leg up, but it connects with nothing. I buck against the one holding me, but two other pairs of hands join in immobilizing me.
“He won’t talk.” Damien leans against a car as his closest guard fusses with a wound in his bicep. “The others didn’t before we killed them.” “Where’s Rai?” I don’t recognize my voice, the rage in it and…the fear. A fear so deep I can taste the bitterness of it. Damien shakes his head once. “They took her.” His words strike me like a thunderbolt in the middle of a raging sea. They took her. The Albanians took her.
“Not that I have to fucking answer to you, but they wouldn’t have taken her if I were there. I was fighting one of them off, and when I turned around, they were carrying her and Aleksander into a van.” “Aleksander was taken, too?” Adrian’s suspicious gaze slides to Kirill, then goes back to Damien. “Why would they take a guard?” “Fuck if I know.” Damien dismisses the soldier who won’t leave his bleeding arm alone.
“In my place.” Kirill pants, still clutching the Albanian by the collar. “They took Sasha in my place.” Sasha? Ah, right. Russians and their weird nicknames. How they even associate Sasha with Aleksander is a mystery. “Still doesn’t make any sense that they’d take you or Aleksander.” Adrian stares at me even as he speaks to Kirill. “They’re usually interested in women.”
“Fuck! Fuck!” Kirill roars, then takes a few breaths, smoothing his voice even though he appears ready to murder a town. “Listen to me, cockroach, if you don’t tell me where you took him, I’m going to have you raped. I’ll assault you with so many objects until I fucking break you. Maybe then you’ll know how it feels, yeah?” “In the meantime…your girly guard’s ass will be broken.” Kirill swiftly yanks Adrian’s gun and points it at the Albanian’s head.
“Hey there, I’m the good cop among all of them. Damien there would snap your neck in a second. Kirill here would torture you to death, and Adrian, well, you must have heard rumors about how he puts people in a white room, then drives them crazy without laying a hand on them. So aren’t you happy you got me?” “She’s…your wife…isn’t she? The…blonde beauty. I bet they can tear her cunt in one day—” I drive my fist straight into his face, and even though the need to finish him off is stronger than anything I’ve felt before, I smile and continue in a semi-restrained tone.
Every second I don’t go to her, she’s in danger. With every second, they might hurt her in ways she can never come back from. I’ll get Rai back. I have to, even if I have to resort to methods I’ve never used before.
“How did you end up here too?” “They took me in place of Boss.” “Kirill?” “Yes.” “Why would they want to take Kirill?” “I’m not sure. I just knew I had to protect him.”
He motions at the other guard, and they punch Aleksander across the stomach. He groans, falling to the ground, but they hold him upright, one of them grabbing him by his injured shoulder. “For every second you don’t suck me off like a good whore, that girly faggot will be punched. How long until he dies, I wonder?” The guards hit him again and blood explodes from his mouth.
I’m about to call his name, but pause when his pants and boxers are pulled down to his knees. Instead of the penis I expected to see, there are…female genitals. “Fucking shit. Jackpot, boss.” The guard grins. “It’s a woman.” My incredulous gaze meets Aleksander’s, who lowers his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek—or more accurately, her cheek. She’s a woman. Aleksander has a been a woman all along.
At this rate, they will catch us again and it’ll be worse than the first time. Bang! Aleksandra and I freeze at the sound of the explosion. That was some sort of bomb. Sure enough, soon after, a multitude of gunshots follow. No one is shooting at us anymore or following us, but the sound doesn’t cease. Pop. Pop. Pop. Then, we hear Russian voices. Aleksandra and I stare at each other and smile. They came for us.
Sure enough, Kirill and his men are at the front, eliminating anyone in their path. Damien is there, too, shooting out bullets like they’re candy, an ammunition belt slung casually over his shoulder. My heart leaps out of my throat when I catch a glimpse of Kyle pushing a guard to the ground. He usually prefers sniping positions that are far away from any conflict. This is the first time he’s willingly gone into a battlefield. He has three of the Albanians kneeling in front of him when his gaze meets mine.
“Are you okay?” he whispers slowly. “Yeah.” “Really?” “Really. I’m glad you came, Kyle. I’m so glad.” I don’t know how it would’ve ended if he weren’t around.
Her eyes meet mine, and I smile at her. She approaches me and clears her throat, adopting her ‘male’ voice. “Thank you.” “Likewise, Aleksander.” I take the hint to call her by the name she goes by in public. If she doesn’t want people to know, I won’t tell. “You can call me Sasha, miss.” She bows and heads to Kirill, who has been watching us the entire time while wiping blood off his glasses. As soon as Aleksandra—Sasha—joins him, he gives me an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. He then pushes Sasha to walk in front of him on their way out.
“I’m going back in there to burn him alive.” “No need to. I already finished his life.” I puff my chest. “I shot him straight in the dick after I bit it off, and then I also shot him in the forehead.” Kyle chuckles softly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my beautiful wife. I’m so proud of you, Princess.”
If he noticed the scene, he doesn’t comment on it, just busies himself with the papers in his hand. “The tests came back normal. There were traces of propofol in your system, but thankfully, it’s not a dangerous amount that could harm the baby.” His gaze slides to Kyle. “There are a few bruises on your stomach that aren’t critical either, but if you’d like to talk to someone, please let me know.” My mouth hangs open as one word he said stays in my mind. “Wait—go back. Did you just mention a baby?” The doctor’s gaze doesn’t change as he flips between the papers. “Yes. You’re pregnant.”
My gaze slowly slides to his. He’s grown quiet, his face expressionless. What is that supposed to mean? Is he also shocked? I’m going to put a baby in you. My eyes widen as his words from before slam back into me. No, he didn’t. He…wouldn’t.
As soon as the door closes behind him, I face Kyle, trying as hard as hell to hold on to my cool. A volcano is raging inside me with the intention of sweeping me under. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” His eyes meet mine, and I see it, the cunning, the fucking victory. If I had any doubt, it’s now eradicated. The asshole. The fucking asshole.
“Is something the matter?” he asks nonchalantly, almost innocently. “Something the matter? Something the fucking matter? I was on the pill. I shouldn’t be pregnant.” Kyle keeps his cool. “I’ve heard it’s only ninety-nine percent effective.” “Or zero if you switched them out.” “Possibly.” “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Wow. I really want to kill you right now.” “That will leave you alone with our baby, so I vote against that option.” I turn around and punch him across his slowly healing face. He doesn’t attempt to avoid it, even though he must’ve seen it coming. “It’s not our baby.”
