Page 48 of Volatile

Cunt.

Stupid, ugly fucking cunt.

If Val wasn’t married to Dani, I’d tell him to use his cursed dick to make the bitch’s life hell, but I’ll have to rethink that idea for Marta’s punishment. It needs to be something that I can use as a noose around her neck and get her to beg at Stasi’s feet, worship her and acknowledge my girl as the goddess she is.

Moving around the room, I check the adjoining bathroom and lock the door so no one can enter from the hallway then I take a sample of his drinks to hide my disgust. His finger has inched closer to his keyboard and I raise my glass, gesturing to the screen as I say, “Watch it. I know a man of your standing is intelligent enough to ensure that his home is protected.”

I just threw up in my mouth. How do they kiss people’s ass without choking on their own shit?

I give him the exact time and watch his face as it loads. My hand was on Stasi’s ass covering the view of her pussy and the fucker fills with rage as he watches his daughter kneel for me.

“I hopeyourdaughter’s dress wasn’t expensive,” I croon. “I suppose she can suck my cum out of it when she’s bored.”

He turns to me, red faced and enraged, so I add, “Unless you want to? There’s no judgemnt from me.”

My knife is in my hand as he slams his fist against the desk, but I don’t remember taking it out and the tumbler slips as I push forward. I’m outside of my body and it all happens in distorted sequences as though my mind can’t process the images as each blink brings with it a snapshot.

My knife goes through his hand, forcing it to remain stuck to his desk. I grab his jaw to dull his screams and his other hand gets the same treatment with a letter opener. It’s not good enough, he needs more pain, and the ice tongs call my name. I use them to grab his filthy tongue and take out my lighter. His spit makes it slip so I tighten the handle in my fist as I fully settle back inside my body.

He mumbles some bullshit as I uncap the zippo I stole from Val and I let the flame lick the bottom of the muscle as I study how it bubbles.

“Say ‘I’m a dumb fuck’, Borya.”

Spit flies from his tongue as he mumbles, and I laugh, adding more lines for my own entertainment while he tries not to scream and betray his title.

“I’ll never go near Anastasia again.”

“I-uh nev-uh uh naah Anababa agben.”

“My daughter is the only Vartanov whore.”

His mumbling is incoherent as I push the flames higher.

“And now I will be.”

The scream is subdued, and his face turns deep red as I push the flame higher again, so it blisters and the useless bastard passes out, robbing me of the full effect. All my life I’ve heard how fucking formidable Vory are supposed to be, not only physically but mentally, this cunt is weak as fuck and Viktor is stronger than he is. Fuck that, Vasya and Nikita are toddlers, and they’d laugh in anyone’s face trying to threaten them before they both beat the shit out of them.

Taking my knife out of his hand, I rip his shirt then carve into his chest. Hairy fuck, he could have shaved so I had a clean canvas. I’ve only got to the second A in my name when the door opens and the psycho walks in.

“Are you practicing your spelling?” Vlad asks as he closes the door behind him.

This is the fucker who raised me and people wonder why I’m fucked up. Ignoring Vlad’s dumbass commentary, I finish writing Vartanov whore and step back. Crystal clinks together and my brother’s voice is right behind me. “Full marks, you spelt it all correctly. Want a sticker?”

The psycho fuck probably has them in his pocket with his grandson being obsessed with them and I shake my head in answer and exasperation.

We don’t stay to wait for Borya to wake up and I’m stopped from going back to Stasi as Vlad corners me. He steps away from anyone else with the tumbler loosely held in his fingers and looks towards the room with all the partygoers as he asks, “Is it serious?”

I don’t have an answer.

It’s not but I keep saying shit to her, asking her to marry me because she sucked my dick so good I saw stars, and promising her my ring. My thumb goes to the signet, toying with the band I haven’t taken off since I was thirteen.

The neurotic fuck issues a veiled warning. “She’s a good kid.”

I choose to focus on his wording rather than the true topic, and pointedly look at his wife then back to him.

“She’s the same age as your wife.”

His voice drops to below a whisper, and he fills with pride at being able to say, “So is my daughter.”

---