Page 145 of The Cute Psycho

"Now, Sisi," Vlad yells. The rope untied, I hurry behind the altar, my back hitting the frame of the gilded icon.

"Do you really think you can take all of us, Kuznetsov?"

"Ah, gentlemen." Vlad walks casually around, picking up a golden goblet of wine. "Who taught you to poke the sleeping dragon?" he asks, donning a mask of amusement once more.

"You think you can kill our men and we'll come in peace?" another man chimes in. I sneak my head around the small altar, watching the scene unfold.

"I rather thought you'd thank me," Vlad replies daringly, "after all, what good does it do to have useless men around you? I did you a favor." He shrugs, a smug smile on his face.

"You..." An elder steps forward, his mouth in a scowl, but another man stops him.

"I've never quite liked you, boy. You think you can order everyone around to do your bidding? We've long decided you needed to be taught a lesson. This just happened to be the perfect occasion," he spits out, his gun pointed at Vlad.

"See, gentlemen, I really wanted to be a gracious host today. You can see I've spared no expense. Why, even the gold is real." He lifts up his goblet, the light hitting the metal and making it glint. "And you have to come into my own home and disrespect me as such?" He shakes his head, making a tsking sound.

"I would have let you leave with your lives intact too, but you really had to go there. You just had to mess with my property." He purses his lips, a frown on his forehead.

His property? I'm his property?

We'll need to have some words about that after he's done with these people.

"Look at him," one man laughs, swinging his gun around, "he's behaving as if he's already won."

"Oh." Vlad smiles, the goblet falling to the ground with a thud. "But I have," he says just as he ducks, the noise of gunshots permeating the air.

"Missed," his voice rings out as he rolls to the ground, taking with him the tablecloth, all the cutlery, plates and food falling to the ground in a deafening noise. More gunshots, with the occasional "missed," from Vlad as he moves around like a ghost, his movements insanely fast as he avoids all incoming bullets.

He can't be real.

I rub at my eyes, thinking I'm seeing things, but Vlad's movements are just insane by any standards, and even the men going against him have a hard time believing what they're seeing.

He's playing with them as he ducks, rolls, moving his body like a trained gymnast. He's not even trying to go on the offensive. Rather, he's relishing letting them chase, their frustration seemingly increasing his enjoyment.

The gunshot sounds keep on going until they suddenly stop. There are some stilted sounds as the men keep on pushing the trigger of their guns, entirely out of ammo.

"Well, I guess now we can talk like civilized people?" Vlad emerges from a corner, casually moving around as if they haven't emptied four guns chasing him around the room.

"Fuck you!" one yells, throwing himself at Vlad. One look at his face and I can see him rolling his eyes.

Vlad merely moves a few steps to the right, his foot shooting out as he trips the man. Falling to the ground, he groans in pain. Vlad's foot presses down on his back, holding him to the ground.

"Didn't I tell you it was useless?" He shakes his head at them, a knife in his hand as he plays with the blade.

The men aren't deterred as they all tackle Vlad, grabbing knives from the ground and trying to get a hit.

Vlad sighs deeply, maneuvering his own knife as he throws it at the first man, hitting him right in the eye. With inherent ease, he waltzesaround, avoiding any direct hit, his hand reaching out to dislodge the knife before pushing it into another man.

The scene continues as he uses just one knife to stab all three men, leaving them all bleeding on the ground.

When he sees that they're all out of commission, he comes over to me, taking me into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "Did they..." He trails off and I quickly shake my head, watching relief flood into his features. "I didn't expect they'd go for you, which was an oversight on my part," he confesses–one of the rare moments I've seen Vlad admitting he was wrong.

"I knew you'd take care of them," I tell him. My faith in him had not wavered even for a second.

"Damned right. No one touches you and lives." He smiles at me, and I finally allow myself to relax.

But it's too early as we turn around, alerted by the screeching tires of another car stopping in front of the warehouse.

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