Page 183 of His Hell Girl

"I'm guessing you know why I'm here," Vlad challenges, his chin raised high, his eyes two slits as he focuses on that particular spot.

"I would have preferred for this meeting to happen under different terms," Miles' voice booms, "but I'm nothing if not adaptable."

"You might find it hard to adapt to my fists," Vlad mutters dryly.

"Ah, but how I’ve missed that wicked sense of humor, Vlad. I've been anticipating this meeting for years. You've turned out to be just like I predicted.Invincible," he proudly quips.

"Not quite." Vlad smirks. "You did whatever you could to take away every bit of humanity I had. Sadly, it didn't quite work out. I am here after all."

"It took you long enough though," Miles remarks through the speakers.

Vlad's fists are clenched by his side, and I know Miles struck a chord in him.

"I'll refer to my initial assessment, Vlad. Your specs are impressive, but there's always been one thing keeping you back from achieving perfection," Miles continues, "your puny attachments. I thought your sister was the key to breaking that, and for a while I really saw my success in you. But you had to continue on the path of no return," he tsks.

It's odd, but his manner of speaking reminds me a lot of Vlad. And I'm not the only one to notice, as the others regard Vlad with an odd look on their faces.

"Vanya," Vlad stresses the name of his sister, his jaw locked tight with tension. "What did you do to her?"

More laughter.

"What I did to her?" Miles chuckles. "Wouldn't you want to find out? Who knows…" he trails off, amusement clear in his voice. "I might even have the video."

"Vlad." I feel compelled to go to his side.

Because I know how to read him better than anyone. I can see behind his polished facade and into his tortured soul. And I know that right at this moment, there are turbulent seas behind his dark eyes, his control threatening to snap.

"Breathe," I urge him, my voice soft as I lay a hand on his arm. "Breathe," I repeat when it doesn't seem he's heard me.

But slowly—ever so slowly—his breathing does regulate, the tension gradually relieved as he brings the world into focus again.

"Thank you," he whispers low, his gaze still stuck on the illuminated booth.

"I have a deal for you," Miles bursts out, and a screen flares to life behind us.

Turning, I gasp when I see the image on the screen.

Vlad and Vanya.

They're both huddled in a small, dirty cell, their eyes defiantly looking at the camera.

"What do you want?" Vlad grits his teeth.

"Simple. I want to watch you fight my best soldier. One last trial." There's a sick amusement in his voice. "If you win, the video is yours. If you don't… Well, you don't."

Vlad frowns.

"That's it?"

"But…" Miles trails off, a mischievous quality to his voice. "No weapons for you. No bulletproof equipment either," he continues and I still.

No weapons? Nothing?

"You have a deal." Vlad is quick to reply, already working the buttons of his shirt before throwing it to the ground. He does the same with the bulletproof vest. He's effectively taking everything off but his boxer briefs.

"No weapons." He raises his arms to signal.

"Vlad." I take his hand in mine. "It's too dangerous. You don't even know who you're fighting against," I try to plead with him.

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