It’s not enough.
Not the killing spree.
Not the torture.
Not the lead that I’m following to lure out the person who gave that information to the Albanians.
Nothing is enough.
Especially not the fucking torture.
I’d planned to keep Roel alive for eternity as I tortured him to my heart’s content, but I slipped, and he died on me only two weeks after I captured him.
My feet are heavy as I take the stairs to the house. A jacket is slung over my shoulder, and my glasses are blurry with remnants of the scum’s blood.
A gasp reaches my ear before I look up to see Karina running down the stairs, a hand muffling her mouth.
Unlike her usual pink girly dresses, she’s now in unflattering black pants and a hoodie. Her hair is gathered in a messy bun, and her face is makeup-free.
My sister stops in front of me looking like a shadow of her former self. Bloodshot eyes. Dark circles. Ghostly pale face.
“Are you okay? What’s with all the blood?”
I mechanically look down at myself and realize my shirt is bloodied, and so are my hands. I must’ve forgotten to wash up. I’m forgetting many things lately. The world is starting to look like a black loop of nothingness that I couldn’t put an end to even if I tried.
It could be the lack of sleep, or the fact that everything is empty and desolate. If I sleep properly, I might be tempted to never fucking wake up.
“It’s not mine.” I start to bypass Karina, but she blocks my path again. “What is it?”
Her lips tremble, and she chews on her dry bottom one. The flesh splits, and a strip of blood appears in the middle. “You’re looking like you’ll collapse. You should get some rest.”
“Go to sleep, Kara.”
“I can’t.” Her voice turns brittle. “All I think about is how Sasha felt before…before she was killed and…and I can’t sleep or eat or bring myself to do anything. He…no, she was my only friend.”
She.
Right. The name I wrote on her grave indicates that Sasha was a woman and my wife.
The wife I couldn’t fucking protect.
Viktor took the time to explain the complicated situation to my family members.
Me? I don’t give a fuck what any of them thinks.
I don’t even give a fuck about the future anymore. I used to see patterns, paths, and courses of action. I used to be motivated by all the goals I had yet to crush.
Now, I only see fucking black.
I spent my whole life carefully building a house of cards, but Sasha’s death has caused it to fall apart.
Karina throws her arms around my waist and squeezes the living fuck out of me. “If I feel this way, then it must be worse for you. She was always with you and…you married her so…so…”
I grab her by the shoulder and push her away. Nausea rises in my throat at the reminder of the last hug Sasha gave me.
And I refuse to let anyone else take that memory.
My wife loved this cheesy shit. She loved hugging me and trying to comfort me. She also loved singing and kissing. But then she left and took away her hugs, her smiles, and even her infuriating arguing.
The idea of being hugged makes me want to stab myself in the fucking gut and watch as my blood pours out.
Tears stream down Karina’s cheeks. “I just…I just wanted to console you.”
“Don’t. I need no such thing.”
“You…really don’t?”
“I really don’t. I’m perfectly fine.”
“Fuck you, Kirill! How can you be perfectly fine after she died? She dedicated her whole life to you! The least you can do is fucking mourn her properly, you fucking asshole!” She punches, claws, and slaps my chest.
I don’t stop her. I don’t have the energy to do anything.
My sister cries and curses me all the way to the moon and back as she lets out her anger and frustration on me.
I feel nothing.
Absolutely fucking nada.
“Kara!” Konstantin rushes inside and pulls our sister away.
She thrashes and kicks the air, her tear-streaked eyes throwing lasers my way. “Let me go! This asshole is not even pretending to be affected. It’s like six years ago when we begged him to stay, and he just gave us his back like a psychopath, Kosta! He doesn’t care! He never cares! Even if the person who protected him with her life died because of him and all the shit he stirs up!”
My jaw clenches. Karina doesn’t notice it, but Konstantin’s eyes harden as he shakes her. “Shut it, Kara. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about! Look at him being all nonchalant after coming from God knows where. He doesn’t want to talk about her. But I will, every fucking day! I will remind you of the girl who protected and loved you but only got death in return!”
I reach an open-palmed hand to her face and nearly crush it in my hand. She finally shuts up, her eyes widening.
I don’t recognize the calmness in my voice when I release her. “Get the fuck out of my face before I do something I will regret.”
Her chin and lips tremble. A sob leaves her throat before she runs up the stairs, her sniffles lingering behind her.
My brother watches me with a furrowed brow.
“You have something on your mind, too? I can’t guarantee your safety if you piss me the fuck off, so how about you disappear instead?”
“Never mind Kara.” His voice is too fucking gentle for my liking. “She’s too sheltered for her own good, and you know she’s never been able to read the atmosphere.”
“And you can?”
“Not when it comes to you, I’m afraid. But I’m starting to learn.”
His eyes soften, and I’m so ready to punch him square in the face if he starts to pity me, but that expression doesn’t come. Instead, I’m staring at a version of my brother I thought I’d lost.
A long time ago, when Yulia would decide to take him on a picnic or to some show, he’d hide in my room just to spend as much time with me as possible.
I’d ruffle his hair and tell him to enjoy whatever she was taking him to for the both of us. That’s when he’d look at me with the same expression he has now.
I thought it was only sadness. Maybe discomfort, but now I realize it’s a form of longing.
Konstantin always wanted to be with me, but Yulia happened, and that became impossible.
He releases a breath. “In case you didn’t know, you’re the hardest person to read, and that’s saying something considering I’ve known you all of my life. No matter how much I try to analyze your actions, I can’t find an explanation for the way your mind works. I can’t tell whether you’re truly a psychopath who doesn’t feel or you just have no fucking clue what emotions are and, therefore, can’t express them. I remember when we were young, you loved Kara and me more than anyone else, but that part of you disappeared, and you became…this. Whatever this is.”
“If there’s a point behind your tedious speech, you should’ve reached it by now.”
“I know you still care about Kara, and possibly me.”
“I didn’t realize you were adding delusional to your repertoire of words.”
“I know you do, or you wouldn’t have made my marriage with Kristina happen.” He grips my shoulder. “Which is also why I know Sasha’s death is affecting you more than you show. You were always the type who looked eerily calm, even after you came back from Roman’s torture sessions. You’ve been either on a violence spree or in this pretend calm mode, so I’m assuming you’re suffering inside or bottling your pain or both.”
“If you’re done being an amateur therapist…” I rotate my shoulder, forcing him to release me, and sidestep him to head toward the stairs.
“You need to get your shit together, Kirill!” he shouts after me. “You’re the Pakhan now, and your head is worth more than ever before.”
“Save the concern for your wife.” I don’t look at him as I take the stairs up.
He’s been subtly trying not to be all disgustingly lovey-dovey with her whenever I’m around. Even Kristina refrains from any form of PDA in my presence. They’re both walking on eggshells around me as if I could be broken by seeing them acting like husband and wife.
To be fair, I did contemplate shooting them in the head whenever I saw them smiling at each other. It’s not them. It’s the sense of fucking doom I have whenever I witness others being happy when that feeling has been wiped out of my life for good.
I didn’t know what happiness meant until I slept like a fucking baby in Sasha’s arms. There were no nightmares, no thoughts about the future.
Just…silence.
For the first time in forever, I had a break from my brain and just felt.
Now that the feeling is fucking gone, I want to confiscate everyone’s happiness, crush it to pieces, and bathe in its blood. I need to turn their worlds as black as mine.
Yulia crosses my path, lifts her chin, and pretends she doesn’t see me. She’s the only one who hasn’t tried to talk to me, and I’m glad she hasn’t or else we’d have a murder on our hands.
I might have some tolerance for Karina and Konstantin, but I’d strangle that woman to death if she ever brought up Sasha’s name.
I’ve had the staff move my clothes to another room near the office. My old room is now locked with a key, and I told Anna to keep it and never give it to me.
My movements are mechanical as I remove my clothes and step into the shower. I watch the blood washing off me, mixing with the water, and disappearing down the drain.
Could I disappear as easily?
No. Not yet.
I still haven’t found the motherfucker who ordered her death.
This isn’t fucking over.
Torturing Roel didn’t empty my thirst for violence. My rage remains powerful, tucked under the surface, waiting for another outlet.
I close my eyes and rest my head on the tiles as the cold water beats down on me.
Soft arms wrap around my waist from behind, and warmth clashes with the freezing water. Her small hands stroke along my sides and pectoral muscles as she lays her head on my back. I feel her lips on my nape, kissing me gently.
I want to turn around and look at her, but if I open my eyes, she’ll disappear.
She always does.
So I twist the wedding ring she slipped on my finger the day she said, ‘I do.’ I’ve been wearing it since I saw her body in the back of the ambulance. My hand feels heavy, though, like it weighs a ton now that hers doesn’t wear her ring.
“You need to sleep, Kirill.” Her soft voice carries in the air like a fucked-up melody. “Your body will eventually give out on you.”
Sasha sounds so worried in my imagination. She always was. There were times when I thought she went over the top to protect me, but it wasn’t until after she was gone that I realized it was her way of showing her affection toward me.
She proved in actions more than words how much she loved me.
I will remind you of the girl who protected and loved you but only got death in return!
Karina’s words stab me in my bleeding heart.
“If I die, will I be able to join you?” I whisper in the silence of the bathroom.
“What are you talking about? You were born for greater things, not to die, Kirill. You’re the Pakhan now. Isn’t that amazing?”
“No. What’s the point of being Pakhan if I couldn’t protect you?”
“You always had your priorities straight, and I was never at the top.”
“That’s not fucking true!” I whirl around and curse under my breath when her warmth disappears.
Fuck.
Disgusted with my own skin, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my middle. It doesn’t matter that I changed rooms. She’s everywhere. Her soul clings to every corner and every fucking person in this house.
But maybe that’s not a bad thing.
If her ghost fucking haunts me and blames me for her death, I’ll still welcome it.
At least she’ll be here.
I put on another suit and head to my office. The door opens as I snag a bottle of Macallan from the minibar. I don’t bother with a glass and drink straight from the bottle.
My throat burns, but it does nothing to squash the constrictive weight on my chest.
Viktor stands across from me, and I motion at the minibar. “Have a drink.”
He doesn’t move a muscle. “Boss. You really need to sleep.”
I lean against the cabinet, legs crossed. “Any news about the lead we got from Roel’s computer?”
“No. It’s a dead end. We suspect the sender to be from outside the country.”
“Russia, for instance.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, I am.” I swallow a long sip and wince slightly at the sharp taste. “I have a feeling that the Belsky Organization had something to do with her death. She admitted that she initially came to New York to spy on me—or, more accurately, on my father—but she eventually gave up on that and chose to stay with me. There’s a huge possibility that they got rid of her once they figured out she’d switched camps.”
“That’s only speculation.”
“Plausible speculation.” I slam the bottle on the counter, causing a few splashes to stain my hand. “I’m going to Russia to investigate this.”
“You can’t go to Russia with no evidence and no clue of their location, let alone their involvement. Besides, you’re the fucking Pakhan now, Kirill. Your position is vulnerable, considering you haven’t been in it for too long. Not to mention all the factions you’ve managed to offend in a small amount of time. The only thing you can do right now is stay and try to strengthen your authority.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that. I’m going to Russia. Make arrangements.”
“No, I won’t.”
I stare into Viktor’s dispassionate eyes. “Are you disobeying a direct order?”
“I am. I’m also telling you that if you go in blind, you’re only heading to your death. You were a captain in the damn Spetsnaz, you know good and fucking well not to move without trusted intel.”
“Get the fuck out of my way.”
“If you insist.” He pulls out his gun and tries to shove it in my hand. “Shoot me first. I’d rather die than see you spiral out of fucking control.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t know you’d learned how to be dramatic.”
“I’m not joking, Kirill.” He glares at me. “I’ve been with you all your life and have seen you being tortured and driven to within an inch of your life. I’ve watched you rise above any hurdle that stood in your path. You got this far because you made it happen. If you don’t get yourself together and start acting like the Pakhan, you’ll be killed. Do you think Aleksandra would like to see you being this fucking suicidal?”
“Shut up, Viktor.”
“It’s the truth. She must be rolling in her grave.”
I grab hold of the gun and point it at his face. “I said. Shut the fuck up.”
He stares me down, unblinking. “Kill me and then do whatever the fuck you want. Aleksandra is gone and so are Yuri and Maksim. I’m the only one who’s able to keep you safe now, but you’re making my job impossible by inviting all these threats into your life. If you don’t kill me before you go to Russia, I’ll shoot myself.”
“Viktor,” I growl.
“I’m doing what she would do if she were here,” he says. “We didn’t get along, but we had one thing in common. Keeping you safe. And I’ll be fucking damned if I send you to your death.”
I let the gun fall to my side and twist the wedding ring with my other hand.
As much as I want to strangle the motherfucker, he’s right.
This isn’t me. And she wouldn’t want to see me throw myself into a dangerous situation.
She didn’t die so I could follow her.
At least, not yet.
I need to find out who the fuck took her from me first.
Only when I rip their heart out with my bare hands will I be able to join her.
