Page 102 of Demitri

“You might be right. And do you know what I want?”

“The money.”

“Of course I want the money. I had to pay for being the bastard daughter of Ivan Pavlov my entire life. I’m due. You got to grow up in the life of luxury with our father. Now, it’s my turn to live the good life.”

I laugh. My entire hand is swelling and going numb. My fingers throb through it. I laugh because this isn’t the first time they’ve been broken.

“What’s so funny?” Katya asks.

“You think I had a good life because our father accepted me as his son?”

“Of course. You were the son. The chosen one. The one allowed to stay because your mother was the lucky one who spread her legs first and got a ring.”

“Oh, lady.” I shake my head, still chuckling. “You were the lucky one. See this bastard right here?” I tilt my chin to Andrey. “Want to know what he got to do on random Tuesdays when my father was in a bad mood? He got to take me out to the barn and beat me. For shits and giggles. While ourotetzbeat my mother. His job was to make me tough. My mother’s job was to turn a blind eye to all the whores my father slept with. Employed. Like yours.”

She comes up and slaps me. “You will not talk about my mother!”

“Did you even know her? Did you know anything about her?” I spit back.

“I know enough to know she protected me!”

“You’re right. Because if Ivan and Andrey here had found you when he was alive, they would have killed you.”

She takes a step back, staring at Andrey like she’s seeing him for the first time.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I? You sure about that?”

Andrey doesn’t say anything. He’s not going to tell the woman signing his current paycheck that I’m right. He’s a brute. He’s a horrible human being. But he’s not stupid.

“Hurt him,” she commands.

“With pleasure.” Andrey dips his chin.

He walks over to the desk and pulls out a crowbar. I try to control my breathing. The last thing I need is to pass out from pain. And I know whatever he’s got in mind is going to fucking hurt.

Andrey raises the iron rod over his head and swings with precision right at my elbow. I grit my teeth together to keep from making a sound and I absorb the blow. FUCK! That hurts like a motherfucker!

“More?” he leans in close to ask me. “Or are you ready to shut up and do what we want you to do?”

“Fuck you!” I spit at him. Then I laugh. “You aren’t going to get shit. Do you really think I’m stupid? If something happens to me, the money is gone, asshole.”

Punch.

Fuck! Right in the nose.

I feel the blood run down my face, can taste it in my throat. Not the first broken nose I’ve ever had. Probably won’t be the last.

“Do you ever shut up?” Katya asks, grimacing at my newly rearranged face.

“Nah. What’s the fun in that?”

“How about self-preservation?”

“You’ll never survive this life if you’re afraid of getting hurt,malenkaya sestrichka.”

“What does that even mean?” she asks, completely clueless.

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