Page 103 of Wicked Savage

I pull the box out, my fingers shaking. With a deep breath, I open it.

Six black roses lie on white tissue paper, their dark petals unnaturally perfect, like a morbid bouquet meant only for me. A cold sweat prickles at the back of my neck, my hands turning clammy. I know exactly what black roses mean.

Death.

A quiet panic settles deep in my bones, cold and suffocating, as though the walls are closing in.

They found me.

My fingers hover over the envelope, the weight of it like a countdown. A sense of inevitability presses down on me. When I finally pick it up, my pulse surges so loudly in my ears that everything else fades away.

With unsteady hands, I rip open the note. The words blur before my eyes, as if they’re waiting to drag me under.

Moya lubimaya sistra, I like your new house. I think I’ll live in it once you’re gone. Until I see you again. It’s been too long, wouldn’t you say?

The world tilts beneath me, the room spinning as I stumble back a step. They know where I am. They’ve been watching. They’re coming for me.

I can’t breathe.

My hands tremble as I force the box back into its packaging. I don’t even realize I’ve moved until my feet are already carrying me toward the door, every step a frantic blur.

“Are you leaving?” Boris breaks through the fog of distress in my head.

“Uh, yes. We…we need to go to Konstantin’s. Now.”

He nods without hesitation, guiding me toward the car. I climb into the backseat, my body stiff with terror. Every nerve feels on edge.

What will they do to me? Drown me? Shoot me?

The thoughts spiral, every scenario more gruesome than the last. I squeeze my eyes shut, the images searing through my mind like a nightmare that won’t end.

The drive feels endless before we pull up to Konstantin’s place. Before Boris can open the door, it’s already swinging open as my legs move on their own. The box remains clutched tightly in my hands as I race toward the entrance, heart pounding with every step.

“Is Konstantin here?” I ask the men stationed outside.

“He’s in the back at the farm.” One of them grins, and I don’t miss the dark edge in his smile.

I return to Boris, who’s still waiting in the car. “Take me to the farm.”

“Are you sure? If Konstantin’s there, you don’t want to go?—”

“I don’t care. I need to see him now.” The words are harsh, cutting through the anxiety that’s rising within me.

Boris shrugs before I get in, and he starts the car. The few minutes of the drive feel like an eternity, but eventually, I spot Konstantin in the distance, standing by a fence that holds over thirty pigs.

When the car stops, I jump out and rush toward Konstantin, catching his attention as he wipes his hands on a towel.

“Dinara?” he calls, his stare narrowing with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“No…” The word is barely a whisper, caught in my throat.

My gaze flickers down to the crate next to him.

“Are those…?” The words stick in my mouth.

“The remains of your father’s men.” His voice is cold, almost clinical. “They were a problem. Pigs like meat. It’s better than letting them go to waste.”

I can’t take it. My stomach turns violently, the bile rising in my throat. I choke it down, forcing myself to look away, to breathe through it.

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