Page 183
Story: Wicked Savage
“Every man who touched my wife will die begging for her forgiveness.”
CHAPTER50
DINARA
The poundingof approaching footsteps sends a jolt of dread through me. I struggle against the tight restraints biting into my wrists, the cold, unforgiving floor beneath me offering no comfort. The thick hood obscuring my vision keeps me trapped in darkness, unable to see anything but the emptiness around me. A muffled whimper echoes nearby.
Tatiana? Gregory? I can’t tell.
The uncertainty fuels my panic, but I force myself to stay still. Fear is a weapon in their hands. I refuse to give them that satisfaction.
The hood is ripped away, and harsh light sears my retinas. I squint, blinking rapidly as my surroundings come into focus: an industrial warehouse, steel beams rising like prison bars, shadows swallowing the corners.
Then I see him: my father.
“Moya Dinarochka,” he says, the mockery laced in his tone as chilling as the ice in his eyes. He pats my cheek with a cold hand, his expression twisted in disdain. “So good to see you again. You made beautiful bride.”
I jolt back, the shock and knowledge that he was actually there hitting me hard.
I knew it! I knew I saw him.
“How? Cillian, he checked the cameras.”
“I had help. Easy to sneak in with catering company. Your husband should do better job keeping you safe, lubimiya.”
Anger coils in my stomach, the smugness in his eyes making me want to claw them out.
I glare, swallowing down the nausea curling in my stomach. “Where are they?”
Whatever he’s done isn’t important right now. Getting Tatiana and Gregory out of here is the priority.
“They’re safe,” he replies, his mouth thinning. “Don’t worry about them.”
I scan the space, desperate for a glimpse of them, but they’re nowhere in sight.
He chuckles. “Is better you worry about you right now.”
I meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m not afraid of you, Papa. Do what you want to me. You’ve always been a coward.”
A cruel smile stretches across his face before he strikes, the butt of his gun crashing into my chin and snapping my head to the side. Pain explodes through my jaw, the metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth. I refuse to make a sound, even as the sting radiates down my spine.
“Still so defiant. You never learn.” He tilts his head, as if I’m some disappointing experiment. “That’s not how you speak to your father.”
“You were never a father to me,” I spit, blood dripping onto my lap. “To any of us.”
He laughs, dark and mirthless. “You were never worth my time.”
The words should cut, but I feel nothing.
He’s wrong about one thing, though: I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve spent my life knowing exactly what kind of monster he is.
His expression shifts, cold calculation replacing amusement. “Your siblings, however…still time for them. Once you’re dead, I make them stronger. More loyal than you ever were. They won’t be under Konstantin’s thumb anymore.”
“You never deserved our loyalty.”
I don’t even care if he hurts me again. What does it matter? I’m already dead, aren’t I? Trapped in this nightmare, dangling on the edge of an end I can’t outrun. Even if Konstantin knows where we are, it might not matter. He might be too late.
Then it hits me, sharp and unforgiving: the thought of never seeing Cillian again. Of never hearing his voice, never feeling his touch.
CHAPTER50
DINARA
The poundingof approaching footsteps sends a jolt of dread through me. I struggle against the tight restraints biting into my wrists, the cold, unforgiving floor beneath me offering no comfort. The thick hood obscuring my vision keeps me trapped in darkness, unable to see anything but the emptiness around me. A muffled whimper echoes nearby.
Tatiana? Gregory? I can’t tell.
The uncertainty fuels my panic, but I force myself to stay still. Fear is a weapon in their hands. I refuse to give them that satisfaction.
The hood is ripped away, and harsh light sears my retinas. I squint, blinking rapidly as my surroundings come into focus: an industrial warehouse, steel beams rising like prison bars, shadows swallowing the corners.
Then I see him: my father.
“Moya Dinarochka,” he says, the mockery laced in his tone as chilling as the ice in his eyes. He pats my cheek with a cold hand, his expression twisted in disdain. “So good to see you again. You made beautiful bride.”
I jolt back, the shock and knowledge that he was actually there hitting me hard.
I knew it! I knew I saw him.
“How? Cillian, he checked the cameras.”
“I had help. Easy to sneak in with catering company. Your husband should do better job keeping you safe, lubimiya.”
Anger coils in my stomach, the smugness in his eyes making me want to claw them out.
I glare, swallowing down the nausea curling in my stomach. “Where are they?”
Whatever he’s done isn’t important right now. Getting Tatiana and Gregory out of here is the priority.
“They’re safe,” he replies, his mouth thinning. “Don’t worry about them.”
I scan the space, desperate for a glimpse of them, but they’re nowhere in sight.
He chuckles. “Is better you worry about you right now.”
I meet his gaze without flinching. “I’m not afraid of you, Papa. Do what you want to me. You’ve always been a coward.”
A cruel smile stretches across his face before he strikes, the butt of his gun crashing into my chin and snapping my head to the side. Pain explodes through my jaw, the metallic taste of blood pooling in my mouth. I refuse to make a sound, even as the sting radiates down my spine.
“Still so defiant. You never learn.” He tilts his head, as if I’m some disappointing experiment. “That’s not how you speak to your father.”
“You were never a father to me,” I spit, blood dripping onto my lap. “To any of us.”
He laughs, dark and mirthless. “You were never worth my time.”
The words should cut, but I feel nothing.
He’s wrong about one thing, though: I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve spent my life knowing exactly what kind of monster he is.
His expression shifts, cold calculation replacing amusement. “Your siblings, however…still time for them. Once you’re dead, I make them stronger. More loyal than you ever were. They won’t be under Konstantin’s thumb anymore.”
“You never deserved our loyalty.”
I don’t even care if he hurts me again. What does it matter? I’m already dead, aren’t I? Trapped in this nightmare, dangling on the edge of an end I can’t outrun. Even if Konstantin knows where we are, it might not matter. He might be too late.
Then it hits me, sharp and unforgiving: the thought of never seeing Cillian again. Of never hearing his voice, never feeling his touch.
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