Page 65 of Tangled Souls

Anger flashes across his features and he shouts, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Oh?” I tilt my head to the side as I study him. “I do.” I nod toward Huck and let Mikhail know, “Huck was able to get into Anatoly’s emails after I killed him. He was making plans and doing deals behind your back. He knew you were unstable and would destroy the empire he was building. He was making moves to take you out. His own blood,” my tone is filled with fake sympathy.

“No,” Mikhail roars and starts to thrash against his restraints.

Too bad he won’t get free. Killing a man who has no hope of fighting back isn’t as much fun. But, in this case, it’s necessary.

“Yes,” I state, my face and tone neutral.

“You’re a fucking liar, Volkov,” he spits.

I challenge him, “Am I?” I shrug and take a step closer to him. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you believe me or not. I know the truth.” I look into his eyes so he can see that I’m not telling him lies. He doesn’t relax though, and he doesn’t admit defeat; I wasn’t really expecting him to. “Now, you’re going to tell me about your suppliers, your dealers, and any other deals you can tell me about.”

Mikhail starts to laugh again, the sound unhinged and creepy as fuck. I don’t acknowledge his little breakdown and step closer.

When I slice up his arm, he doesn’t scream. He doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps laughing.

“Fucking psycho,” Maxim huffs from somewhere behind me.

I don’t ask another question. Not yet.

Every slice I give his body is long and smooth. The blood covering him multiplies, none of the new blood coming from the bullet wound. He’s littered with cuts, but I don’t stop.

I can’t.

He wanted my head which would be bad enough, but then he wanted Oaklynn’s. That is what I can’t accept. Ever.

When I finally step away, his chest is heaving, and his eyes are filled with pain. He tries to mask it, but it’s too much for him to control at this point. Too much of his skin is covered in cuts.

Maxim steps up next to me, a blowtorch in his hands and an evil glint in his eyes.

I still don’t ask a question. My last demand still hangs in the air along with the stench of his blood and his flagging determination. He’ll break.

They all do.

Somewhere underneath his rage and his need for retribution is his humanity. It might be small, but it is there. Even the darkest of us have an ember of it. No one has looked for Mikhail’s spark for a long time, no one cared to find it. I don’t either, not really, but I’m more than willing to take advantage of it.

Maxim starts with Mikhail’s feet and the moment he touches the flame to his skin, the smell of burning flesh starts to compete with the copper of his blood. It’s a heady combination, a harbinger of death.

But this death will not be visiting soon.

For the first time, he cracks. His screams make me smile as I stand back and allow Mikhail to exorcise some of his own demons. He’s been beating himself up since the night of the gala.

I understand why, but he needs to let it go. That guilt cannot continue to live with us. It will taint our future and our family.

Oaklynn could be pregnant right now. We won’t know for a little while, but it’s possible.

The hope for our future must be stronger than the guilt and regret. There is no other way and nothing less is acceptable.

When Mikhail’s scream cut off, the blowtorch on his thighs now, it’s only because the man passes out. Maxim chuckles under his breath as he steps back.

Baker is there to toss a bucket of salt water on Mikhail who comes too and begins screaming again. Good.

Mikhail looks around the room as if an angel of mercy will appear. We know there is no such thing, but it doesn’t stop theman from looking. Maybe what he’s really looking for is the reaper to drag him to hell.

Not yet.

“You won’t find freedom within death quite yet,” my voice holds a promise which has his gaze snapping over to meet mine.

---