Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Have you lost your mind?” I shout after him, but he ignores me and stalks out of the room.
I walk to the bar I was lifting and check the numbers on the weights.
Ten pounds each? It felt like a hundred.
Shit. I’m so screwed.
Chapter 14
Misha
The words will never leave my mouth, but fuck did I enjoy the training session.
I’m a fucking bastard because having Aurora weak beneath me was one hell of a turn-on. Christ, her eyes sparkled with anger, and her feistiness only made the blood in my veins burn hotter.
I adjust the hard-on in my cargo pants as I walk to Instructor Volkov’s class.
Time for torture.
When I enter the room, I take a seat next to Alek and Armani.
Armani glances at me. “Glad to see you survived training.”
“Dude, lose the bulge,” Alek mutters. “We’re close, but I don’t need to see the outline of your dick.”
“Fuck off.” I adjust my cock again, but it doesn’t help.
Go down, fucker.
Instructor Volkov comes into the room. “Are you all ready to scream like girls?”
“Bring it,” Alek taunts him.
“Shut up,” Armani hisses under his breath.
“I’m glad you’re so eager, Mr. Aslanhov,” Instructor Volkov chuckles. “You’re up first.” He points at Kazuo, who’s sporting a black eye from yesterday’s fight. “Join us, Mr. Jirocho.”
When Instructor Volkov removes a box of sewing needles from his desk drawer, I feel relieved.
Out of all the torture methods, at least this one doesn’t remove body parts.
“Left hands only.” Instructor Volkov smirks. “After all, you still have other training, and I can’t have you completely incapacitated.”
“Lucky us,” Armani mutters.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Alek asks while he looks way too eager to get started.
“Sure,” Instructor Volkov agrees.
Kazuo wins with paper wrapping over rock, and he takes a needle from the box. Alek’s wrist is strapped to the table while his right arm is restrained to the chair.
Instructor Volkov holds a piece of wood out to him. “Do you need to bite on this?”
“I’m good,” Alek grins.
I shake my head, already knowing how this is going to go. Alek can handle a fuck-ton of pain.
Kazuo slowly pushes the needle beneath Alek’s pinky nail, and I watch as my best friend raises his eyebrows at the yakuza soldier.
“Remove the nail,” Instructor Volkov orders.
Blyadʹ.
Alek keeps his eyes trained on Kazuo as the man takes the pliers from Instructor Volkov.
“All you have to do to make it stop is say yield,” Instructor Volkov adds right before Kazuo starts tearing Alek’s nail off.
I force myself to watch because Alek will know the moment I look away, and that will piss him off.
Honestly, I’ve seen worse, and I’m proud of Alek when he doesn’t show any reaction.
When the nail is torn off and blood trickles onto the table, Alek mutters, “You have to do better than that if you expect your enemy to spill their secrets.” Then he grins at Kazuo. “My turn.”
“Wrap that shit up. I don’t want you bleeding all over my classroom,” Instructor Volkov says as he tosses a bandage to Alek.
After Alek takes care of his finger, the men swap places, and Alek looks sadistic as fuck as he starts to push the needle into the bed of Kazuo’s nail. Halfway he stops and wiggles the sharp point, slowly tearing the nail from the flesh.
A drop of sweat trickles down Kazuo’s temple, but he clenches his jaw to steel himself.
Alek manages to get four grunts from the yakuza soldier, and when it’s time for him to tear the nail off, Kazuo reluctantly growls, “Yield.”
“Aww,” Alek complains. “You just had to ruin my fun.”
“Mr. Petrov and Mr. Kodra, you’re up next.”
I take a seat and watch as the blood is wiped from the table. When my wrist is strapped down, I suck in a deep breath of air and exhale slowly.
As Marsela reaches for a needle, I go to my safe place so the pain won’t be as bad.
It’s our first Christmas with the Aslanhovs. I’m holding Tiana’s hand, and as we go down the stairs, the twinkling tree comes into view. There are so many gifts, they fill most of the space around the base of the tree.
Marsela forces the sharp tip of the needle into the bed of my nail.
Tiana’s face lights up with happiness.
I focus on the mental image I have of my sister.
It was the first time I saw her happy, and one of my most treasured memories.
The pain increases, and I recall the sound of her laughter when Mrs. Aslanhov taught her how to bake cookies. Tiana burned them all but ate one and told her it was the best thing I had ever tasted.
“Pull the nail,” Instructor Volkov orders.
‘Misha,’ Tiana whispers.
‘Yes.’
She’s snuggled against my side, still too afraid to sleep alone.
‘Do you think they’ll keep us?’
Honestly, I’m not sure.
‘Even if they don’t, you’ll always have me,’ I say, unable to lie to my baby sister.