Page 79 of Claimed By the Pakhan

Her eyes find mine, lines forming between her brows as she figures me out. Her lips remain closed, her cheeks pale, devoid of that pinkish hue I love.

Fia goes to stand but the straps doubled around her arms keep her glued to the chair. She analyzes her arms, each one stapled to the chair.

The lines between her brow ease when she glances at me again. In a room full of men, I’m the only one she trusts. I ignore the fuzziness in my heart, along with the hope budding on her face, and do what needs to be done.

I take a dive at Luka, throwing him up against the shipping container. The foul look in his eye encourages me to look away. Killing enemies, spilling blood has always been a breeze, but looking someone square in the eye who I have always considered a friend, damages the soul, releasing despair into my body.

But one look at Fia restores faith, giving me a purpose.

I shove Luka into the container wall again, turning grief into strength, punching themudakstraight in the face. He handles the punch poorly, collapsing into the metal wall, defeated for a few seconds, needing time to lick his wounds.

But time is of the fucking essence. I go straight in with a second punch, blood slashing across my face. My knuckles drip with my blood. I wipe my hands clean on his shirt before flexing my hands, cracking my knuckles, ready to go again.

“Your face is much more tolerable to look at now.”

“Sure,” spits Luka, blood dripping down one side of his mouth. “While that might be the case, Alexander and I are the only sense of belonging you have in the world. Killing us will send you down a very dark path of loneliness."

“Nothing you can say will make me want to save your life.” I slam Luka into the wall, the metal wall concaving from the force.

“Look out!” screams Fia.

I can only roll my eyes when I see Alexander step into the container. The smug smile written across his face won’t last long.

“You should listen to your friend,” says Alexander, the smile cutting deeper into his face. “You can join us, or you can spend the rest of your life in misery.”

My life will cease to exist after today. Alexander is wasting his last few moments being a pain in my ass. His spirit will regret that after I kill him, forever haunted with failure. Too much talking, not enough action, is why Alexander is only having a taste of power now this late into his life.

“The problem with you, Emil, is that you’re always searching high and low for someone else to blame,” says Alexander. “Take a look at your dear wife,” he gestures to her, “and see for yourself how much damage you have caused. Your lifestyle is to blame for those bruises and cuts. And those two delicate lines between her brow,” Alexander states, ghosting her forehead, “will never disappear, so long as Fia continues to be a part of your world. Leading a Bratva while being in love is like trying to lose weight by only eating sugar. Cut the sugar out, and then you might step into your true power. But indulging in the sugar while exercising never gets you far. Real sacrifice must be made. Luka and I both know what you’re made of.”

I slam the old man into the container wall next to his friend, but the smile crawling across Alexander’s face leaves my fist poised midair.

“You know better than to ruin your own kind,” teases Alexander.

“You ran over my fucking wife.”

“For good reason,” chips in Luka.

“She outsmarted you.”

“Yes,” says Luka. “And her death would put a stop to your theatrics. You needed to feel heartbreak, the pain ammunition for you to get back on track. Instead, Fia survived and you went the opposite way, doing everything in your power to save your marriage.” Luka sticks a finger into his mouth, whistling, propelling the guard forward—the one who beat up Fia.

He flashes me a grave look, standing beside Fia.

“You have been given too many fucking chances, Emil,” continues Luka. “But Alexander and I are feeling generous, so we would like to give you one more.” Luka flicks his gaze to the guard. “Kill her.”

I flash the guard a challenging look, reminding him who he works for, who he answers to. But the guard looks at me expressionless, like I’m just another person on the sidewalk, a blank face, a two dimensional being who is no longer of any value.

I’ll show him value.

I take one step forward and thrust my knife straight into his stomach, blood squirting in every direction.

It splats across Fia, some reaching her baby bump. Acknowledging the twins propels me forward, my vision tainted red. Fueled on pure rage, I shove the blade back into his stomach, repeating the movement, flesh tearing, intestines spilling out of the gaping wound.

My guard falls back into the container wall, choking on his own blood. I pinch his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes as he passes. He failed me, but above all else, he failed himself.

“There he is,” says Luka to Alexander. “The monster has awoken. I knew he was always inside, waiting to be let through.” The wicked smile stretching across Alexander’s face captures my attention.

After watching the guard pass away, witnessing the moment his spirit vacates his body, I focus my attention on Alexander.