Page 95 of The Tsar's Obsession
My eyes adjusted to the light, and I saw a dark, glistening pool stretched out on the floor. My stomach fucking dropped. There was a naked body there—drowning in the thick puddle.
Her long, beautiful hair covered her face. Her clothes were scattered around, no doubt ripped off her body. Her chest…I strained to see if it rose, even a little, but it didn’t.
My legs became numb, my vision tunneling. I stumbled forward, barely registering the switchblade glinting in the bastard’s hand. He stood over her, calm, his hands painted red with her blood, like he was admiring his work.
No. My girl. My angel. I was too fucking late!
“Get her up,” Dmitry ordered, and in disbelief, I watched how two men roughly picked her up and dragged her closer to me, trailing right behind him.
A fucking crater of violence ripped open inside me. Iwasapatient man in the past. I was merciful; I liked dialogue and diplomacy. But tonight, I would bathe in Dmitry’s blood.
“Got carried away,” he muttered, like she was just a toy he broke. Mia was dropped to her knees in front of me, her head slumped down, and her body weak. “A beauty, wasn’t she?” Unable to hold herself up, Mia fell at my feet.
I couldn’t breathe at the sight of her. I deserved to die for letting it come to this. For letting her suffer. Every muscle in my body screamed to move, to tear him apart, but I stayed still, knowing that both of us would meet our end in seconds if I acted on impulse. So, I clenched my jaw, relaxed my shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. Emotionless.
A few of my men hung around, evidently having decided that Dmitry was a more viable option. They would all be dead tonight. I heard a sniffle and whipped my head toward the wall. Was that…fucking Jeremy?! His eyes wide, he kept shaking his head, as if denying his existence.
“Sit. Brother,” Dmitry commanded in his full position of power and pointed to a chair behind him. “She’s not dead. I’m not done with her yet. I was going to make a video for you, but since you’re here already…I think you’ll enjoy the live show.”
I stepped over Mia and followed his instruction. If I overreacted to his words or showed how much I cared for her, it could all go to shit in one short second. I took a deep breath in and walked myself back from a nervous breakdown at the sight of her.
“You want my woman? My status, power? You can’t have it all, Dima. Only I can.” I sat down as instructed, my mind already estimating if I could cut his head off with just a switchblade.
A silenced gunshot sounded somewhere upstairs, but Dmitry didn’t turn away from me, only signaling our men—mymen—to take care of it. Yuri arrived. About fucking time. “Oh, The Tsar brought back up, huh?” he mocked. “You never work alone, do you? Always need someone there to help you out. Me, Polina, Yura…you use everyone like a stepping stone.” Dmitry laughed bitterly, and heavy footsteps thudded above us. “But your girl’s smart. She stretched the time until you arrived.”
Something flashed in his hands, and handcuffs landed in my lap. “Put those on,” he ordered, lighting up a cigarette, his hands red with Mia’s blood. He didn’t dare look away as I slowly snapped the handcuffs onto my wrists, stretching the time—just likemy girl,giving Yuri the opportunity to do what he did best.
“Look at us. Two brothers. One about to kill the other. We can never escape the fate of our people, can we?” I spoke with meaning, mentally letting go of the man I called my brother almost my whole life. “I gotta give it to you—you set up an intricate web. You’re a good student; you learned everything I could have possibly taught you,” I taunted him, usurping all his attention away from Mia.
He chuckled and engaged. “You’re the cockiest motherfucker I’ve ever met. You think you’re God. That nickname really got to your head.” He exhaled plumes of smoke and breathed in the filthy air with his full chest as he watched me place my handcuffed wrists in my lap. I’d done it before, and I was stronger than ever now; I was going to break these fucking handcuffs, and then I would let all my wrath out onto him.
“I killed for you. Ibledfor you. I lived with you on the streets.” Genuine sadness began to overpower me as I pronounced those words. “I saved your life countless times, Dima, and for what? So we could end like this?”
Jeremy sniffled again, his sobs silent and pitiful. What a little bitch. “You think you can just live how you want, don’t you?” Dmitry piped up again. “Never caring about the consequences of your actions. Never caring about who you hurt.”
Fuck. He wasn’t wrong. That’s how I lived my whole life, and that’s how I ended up in this mess with Mia. My angel lay prostrate on the cold floor, hurt, almost naked, barely alive. My eyes caught on the ugly patch of raw, red skin where her tattoo used to be, the one I used to trace with my fingers on quiet nights.
He’d fucking cut it out. He cut her apart, and itwasallmy fault. I let it get this far, too fucking stupid to foresee this.
“Can’t get enough of your beauty?” Dmitry woke me with his voice. “Don’t worry, you can burn together in hell until the end of time.” The gun flashed in his hand, and before I could react, the bullet had already left the chamber. Jeremyscreamedbehind the duct tape, his body shaking in the chair as crimson poured from the wound in his shin.
There was no more fucking time to wait. My wrists strained against the cold steel of the handcuffs, but I launched myself forward, slamming my shoulder against Dmitry’s chest. The force sent both of us crashing to the floor, and his gun clattered loudly somewhere close by.
We landed hard, the adrenaline drowning out all pain. The blood on my face nearly rendering me blind; both of us instinctively scrambled to our feet, clashing together within a second. He swung right into my side, exactly where the stab wound had healed a few months ago.
I was paralyzed by the pain. I stumbled back, and my one second of weakness offered him the upper hand.
One punch to my jaw. Two.
There was no pause. He pummeled me, my head contused from every blunt hit.
“Get on your filthy fucking knees!” He repeated my own words, and the handle of his gun made harsh contact with my nose, knocking me down.
Fuck. This. Shit. Breathless, my knees hit the concrete floor, but this couldn’t have been the end. I just needed a moment; I just needed to catch my breath, to find my balance—just wait!
All the little and big moments in my life led me to this. With all the strength my mind and body possessed, I pulled on the cold steel around my wrists. Ten seconds. I needed just ten seconds to apply enough force to break the fucking chains.
“Finally, on your knees, where you belong, you little bit–” But Dmitry's words were cut off, and we were both suddenly tumbling to the ground again, his whole body slamming into me. I blinkedthrough my own blood to be met with an unholy sight—Mia’s fingernails digging into his eyeballs.
