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The predator is back.

Rodion cracks his knuckles. “Back to business?”

“We can’t prolong this. I need to get back to her.” I crouch beside Yaroslav, grab him by the throat, and squeeze just enough for panic to set in.

“Look at me.”

His swollen eyes flicker open, dazed.

I lean in, my voice low, deadly. “You put your hands on her. That was yourfirstmistake.”

I pull my knife free, running the tip along Yaroslav’s jaw, not slicing through flesh. Yet.

“Your second…” I drag the blade lower, pressing it just under his sternum.

“Thinking you’d fucking get away with it, you son of a bitch.”

Yaroslav sobs, blood and snot running down his face.

“Please—”

I drive the knife into his gut. He howls.

I twist the blade. Slow. Precise.

I hurt him. I’ll kill him now. I’ll own this.

I watch the light start to fade from his eyes.

In a whisper, I deliver the final words he’ll ever hear.

“She’s mine now, you son of a bitch. Go to hell knowing that I don’t ever share.”

I twist the knife again.

“This is your payment for what you did to her. No one will ever hurt her again. Especially you.”

I pull the blade free, and Yaroslav chokes and gurgles. Blood splashes on my hands before I go still.

I wipe my knife on his shirt and stand.

Rodion exhales, cracking his neck.

“Well, that was satisfying. I think we were too easy on him.”

“Definitely. But I need to get home to her.”

I slip the knife back into place and pull out my phone.

Anissa is waiting. I left her safe, but I want to see her with my own eyes.

“I’ll call for cleanup. Let’s get you home to her,” Rodion says.

I nod and dial her number.

This time, she doesn’t answer.

The phone rings. And rings.