Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Not giving Abram a chance to think, he had the knife impaled into his left shoulder, pinning the poor bastard into the couch.
I fought back a laugh when he howled in pain. That was exactly why this room was soundproof.
Alessio took the cigar from his lips and pressed it into Abram’s forehead. Another painful scream. He writhed and tried to escape the assault. He cried out and begged for mercy as his skin burned and melted. Blood dripped down his face and his shoulders, making a mess out of the pretty couches.
When Alessio pulled the now-ruined cigar away, Abram’s forehead looked like a barbecued steak. He was shaking violently, agony coursing through this body. The smell of burned flesh and the pungent scent of blood filled the room.
“You know what I can’t forgive?” Alessio demanded harshly. Abram whimpered in response. His lips moved to speak, but only useless cries escaped.
“When someone tries to hurt my Queen.”
Abram’s eyes widened and he knew…he fucking knew he was caught.
Bullseye, asshole.
Alessio’s control had now snapped. The beast prowled forward, and he was ready for a bloodbath. “It might not have been you, but you wanted it to happen. You thought of it. You celebrated when she was hurt.”
“Konstantin…” Abram called out. “…help…”
“Konstantin…help…” Alessio mocked with an evil laughter. Fuck, I almost pissed my pants myself.
From laughing, that was.
A howl pierced the room when Alessio took the knife out of the left shoulder and plunged it into the right one. He was merciless in his assault.
When Abram noticed my lack of sympathy, he finally understood this too.
“You…” he spat.
“Viktor Ivanshov,” I simply replied.
“Traitor,” he hissed and then cried out again when Alessio twisted the knife more into his flesh.
My fingers itched to join the fun, but I sat still and waited for my Boss’s command.
“Do you know what happens to men who think of hurting my wife?” Alessio snarled. “You. Fucking. Die.”
Alessio lifted his head up and stared at me. His glare was murderous, and his face was a mask of rage. “Right, Viktor?”
“Nobody harms the Queen,” I added, my voice a low, threatening growl. Nikolay nodded in agreement but stayed silent otherwise. He was a man of few words. His actions spoke louder.
Abram stopped whining and shaking. He stared at me and then looked into the eyes of death.
He knew he was a dead man already, so he danced with danger. Fucking fool, he was.
“You can kill me now. I will…die. But Valentin…will…strike. And your wife,” Abram said with a laugh. “Better…protect…her. Because she is gonna…be a corpse…soon.”
My gut hollowed, and then I raged. I shot up from the couch and stalked forward, stopping right beside Alessio, side by side. Shoulder to shoulder.
“He…is…gonna fuck her up so bad. Make you watch.” He laughed and then started coughing, his face twisting in pain.
This was Abram’s way of riling us up. He wanted us angry. He thought we’d kill him faster this way, end his suffering. It was his best shot at mercy. It was a smart move.
Except, you see…we liked to play with our toys. Call us heartless or uncivilized, but we liked to decorate it prettily, and only after we were satisfied it had bled enough, we’d decide if it could take its last breath.
And that was exactly what we did.
The bastard had crossed a line with his words, and Alessio…well, he had his fun.
I watched silently as he snarled and lurched forward. Pulling the knife from Abram’s shoulder, he dragged the bloody blade over Abram’s face. He screamed and screamed as blood poured out of the open wound.
Alessio’s face was pure unfiltered fury as he slashed at Abram’s face over and over again. The blade was sharp and cut through the skin easily, digging into the bloody flesh. It was messy. It was filthy. It was fucking exhilarating to watch.
Alessio was lost in his madness. Abram was barely alive now. His breathing was slow, stuttering, and his chest barely moved. The fight had left his body, and he went limp against the bloodied couch.
Alessio took a step back, his fist still clenching the knife. “Is he decorated prettily enough now?” he said in a low voice. It was so cold that even I almost shivered at the sound of the deadly tone.
Abram’s face was completely disfigured. He let out one final weak garbled sound at the back of his throat.
He was unrecognizable and bleeding so badly that he wouldn’t last much longer now. But I wanted to take the pleasure of ending his life.
“May I?” I asked. My turn.
Alessio handed me his gun without a word, his silent permission.
It was a perfect shot. A single bullet.
Right through Abram’s heart. Sweet and fucking simple.
It was satisfying enough to watch his body tighten for a second, and then he went completely limp. We watched as life left his body.