Page 38 of Pageant

Elyah is the tallest of the three men, and as muscular as Kirill. The dark tattoos on his throat and collarbone stand out on his taut flesh. His wintry blue eyes run over me; his expression is pitiless as he drinks in my vulnerability. It’s the same expression that was on his face when he unlocked my cell and loomed over me. My helplessness is a three-course meal for him.

He turns his attention to Kirill. “I have prior claim on her.”

Kirill holds out the baton. “Then be my fucking guest.”

My heart smacks against my ribs as Elyah takes the baton. I fight the whimper that rises in my throat. Kirill is one thing. I don’t know him. I have never put my life in his hands. Even though we never had sex, I gave my heart to Elyah. I was closer to him than I have been to any other man in my life.

I trusted him. I craved him.

I loved him.

Stupid Lilia. I knew that men couldn’t be trusted. I learned that brutal lesson a long, long time ago.

Konstantin is watching us with his arms folded. Elyah runs his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully, and then he reaches out and takes hold of my wrists. Kirill releases me and steps back.

As Elyah raises the baton high, my heart shrivels at the pitiless expression on his face. He wants to see me beaten and bloodied just as much as these strangers he calls friends.

But Elyah hesitates, and his gaze flicks to mine. One eyebrow rises ever so slightly. A question.

Will you beg for mercy?

Me, the proud, cold daughter of Aran Brazhensky. The prized wife of Ivan Kalashnik. Until the age of eleven, I grew up with the best of everything and never knew a day of hunger or the cruel bite of winter. After I was thrown out of my home,Babulyaand I worried about how to clothe and feed me, but we always managed. I was on the cusp of embarking on a glittering career before I was dragged back into my father’s world.

Elyah never had a glittering anything. He became a killer and a thief out of desperation, and he was treated like an object. A living weapon who was used by my husband, and before that, he was wielded by other powerful men. In prison he must have fought tooth and nail for every breath he took. Elyah has never had one sliver of power, until now. Konstantin seems to have earned Elyah’s loyalty by treating him like an equal, and how exhilarating that must feel after being under someone’s boot his entire life.

His hand tightens ruthlessly on my wrists, grinding my bones together. It will be the icing on the cake for him to hear me beg and then break my arms anyway.

You are the one in cage now, Lilia Aranova. You are the piece of scum who is nothing.

It takes all my willpower, but I keep my lips tightly closed. I may have been born in America, but I have the pride of a Russian, just like him, and he will never.

Never.

Hear me beg him for anything.

Elyah realizes I’m not going to speak, and he suddenly yanks me toward him, his face alight with fury. “You proud fucking woman. Do you know what you have done?”

His face is just inches from mine, but I don’t react. The baton is still held high in his right hand. He’s a hairsbreadth away from beating me to death with it.

“If you had begged me, I might have stopped at breaking your arms and let you live.”

Elyah throws the baton aside and it hits the wall with a clang and falls to the carpet. As he turns away from me, he says, louder for the others, “If I start now, I will not be able to stop. I want Lilia Aranova to suffer. She is too rotten for quick death.”

Kirill gives his friend a baffled look. “Then let me make her suffer.”

“She is to suffer atmyhands,” Elyah snarls, rounding on him.

Kirill glares from the baton to Konstantin to Elyah, and then shakes his head as he curses in Russian.

I dig my nails into my palms, focusing on the pain instead of the relief that is pouring through me. I won’t be beaten, broken, and killed. Yet. It’s only a matter of time. I don’t believe for a second that Elyah would have shown me any mercy, even if I had begged him.

Konstantin turns his attention back to Hedda who’s wiping the blood from her chin as tears run down her face. My relief evaporates as I wonder if he’s going to order Kirill to break her arms, after all.

I step toward her but freeze as Konstantin starts to speak.

“Number Sixteen, you have been eliminated and you will be locked in your cell until your fate is decided at the end of this pageant. Pray that the pageant doesn’t end soon, for your fate is an ugly one. Just like your face.”

Hedda wraps her arms around her knees, whimpering. It’s time for us to get the hell out of here. I hurry forward to help her to her feet and propel her toward the door and back to the other women.

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