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Her body was cold against mine. As she hugged me, she felt even more fragile, and the rage from earlier seemed to vanish in her presence.

All that mattered to me right now was that she was safe and unharmed. Dread coiled in my gut at what could’ve happened if I’d arrived a minute later than I had.

I supposed Gavril had already figured out she really had no clue about the shipment. The son of a bitch would have tortured her and killed her just to spite me and feed his twisted, sadistic fantasy.

I pulled back and inspected her for injuries. She had bruises on her wrists, over her tattoo, and a few under her chin. I wondered if there were more in places I couldn’t see.

“Are you hurt?”

She bit her lips, hesitating. “Not so much. Luckily, you came on time to save me from that monster.”

All the anger from earlier returned in full force.

My nostrils flared, my muscles twitching. “I’ll kill that bastard for touching you.”

“No, Andrei—”

I signaled Dobryn to come over. “Take her outside. I still have some business with that sick Romanian asshole.” Cupping her face, I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This won’t be pretty, look away.”

She opened her mouth to protest what she knew I was about to do, but before she could say a word, I’d already strutted across the warehouse, picking up the knife Gavril dropped earlier and marching up to the bastard who dared to lay a hand on my woman.

Gavril was bound at the center of the warehouse with his hands tied behind him the same way he’d done to Giselle,

My men had already roughened him up a bit, and he was a whimpering, swollen, and bloody mess right now.

It wasn’t enough for me, though. He deserved more for daring to touch what was mine.

I thought of how scared Giselle must’ve been, the pain she must’ve felt when he hit her, and that was enough to unleash the beast inside me.

“If you wanted to run, you shouldn’t have let me catch you,” I said, my tone even and dangerous. “What you’re about to face will be worse than death.”

His swollen lips curled into a smirk. “Wow, wow, wow. What do we have here?” He glared at me, his gaze filled with condescension. “If it isn’t the little Yezhov cub.”

My fingers flexed on the blade. “I see you’re a man of many words, Gavril.” I pressed the blade to his lips. “I should start with your tongue, but it’ll be a shame not to hear your screams.”

“You should, or you might regret it.” His gaze fleeted to Giselle. “I regret not doing the same to that bitch. Tell me, Yezhov, did you stick your cock in that whore? If so, I wonder why she ran from you. Maybe it’s too tiny for—”

I slashed the blade across his face before he could finish his sentence.

He let out a whimper, useless rage gleaming in his eyes as his blood trailed down his face. “You should choose your next words very carefully,” I warned, crouching next to him. “The less nonsense you say, the quicker I’ll send you to hell.”

He spat blood onto the concrete floor, his chest heaving with each breath. “Fuck you, Yezhov. You think you’ve won? More rivals will come after you. Guess I’ll see you in hell soon enough.”

“You should save a room for me then.” I straightened up, shrugged off my suit jacket, and tossed it to one of my men; then I rolled up my sleeves. “For now, I’ll focus on giving you a warm send-off.” Holding a hand over my shoulder, I yelled, “Spanner!”

One of my men stepped forward and handed me a spanner. Two more men held Gavril’s jaw open.

“This is for calling her a whore.” I hooked the spanner on one of his front teeth and yanked it out.

Gavril’s scream echoed across the warehouse. He struggled against his bonds, cursing in Romanian.

“Ubludok.”

I knew what that one meant: bastard.

I flicked his blood off my fingers in disgust. “Her name is Giselle, and you don’t deserve to say that name. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her,” I growled as I pulled out a second tooth.

His cries grew louder with each tooth. I didn’t stop until a total of six bloody stubs were lying on the floor.

Gavril whimpered, his breath jagged and strained. “Kill me,” he muttered. “Kill me and get this over with.”

A slow smile formed on my lips. “Not so fast.” I tossed the spanner to the ground and picked up the blade again. “We’re just getting started.”

***

By the time I was done with Gavril, I was covered in splatters of his blood. My crisp white shirt was splattered with bloodstains, and I was wiping some of the blood running down my arms with a towel.

Gavril’s body parts decorated the floor—teeth, fingers, one of his ears, and one of his big toes.

His whimpers were weaker now as he dangled between consciousness and death. His head hung low, his suit was soaked in his blood, and his body was barely holding onto life.

Even now, I hadn’t gotten the satisfaction I needed. The rage inside me demanded more pieces of him, but he was close to giving up the ghost, and death was a mercy—one he didn’t deserve.

Throwing him in a gutter and leaving him to die made more sense.

“What should we do with him, sir?” Dimitri asked.

I glared at the half-dead in front of me. “Dispose him,” I ordered. “He’ll be a waste as a prisoner.”

Dimitri nodded.

I rolled down my sleeves and threw on my suit jacket to hide the splatters of blood. Giselle would be shaken if she saw them, and after everything she’d been through, the last thing I wanted was to traumatize her further.

Drawing in an even breath, I turned toward the door where Giselle was meant to be but froze when her emerald eyes met mine.

They were wide with horror and disbelief, and her face had paled with fear.

I glanced at Dobryn, and he shook his head, his way of telling me she hadn’t seen anything. She hadn’t watched me pull out Gavril’s teeth or chop off his fingers and toes, but that didn’t bring me the relief I needed.

Because she’d heard it all.

She’d heard his screams and whispers, heard me laugh as I executed the torture, heard my threats.

For the first time, I saw something in her eyes that wasn’t hatred or desire. She was afraid of me.

I approached her and reached for her arm, but her breath hitched, and she flinched away. Her lips trembled, and her gaze bounced between my face and my hand.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She swallowed and lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Look at me, Giselle,” I ordered.

She obeyed; her eyes bore into mine.

“Are you afraid of me?” I repeated, holding her gaze. “Do you hate me for torturing the bastard who laid his hands on you?”

She shook her head.

“I want to hear you say it, solnishko . I want to hear you say you’re not afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she answered. “But…what you did to that man, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? I heard you laugh.”

“Dah.” I stepped closer, caging her against the wall. “I’d kill a thousand more men if they hurt you, solnishko . I’d burn the world down to keep you safe.”

And I meant every word I said.

“Why?” Her lashes fluttered, her breath shaky. “Why would you go that far for me?”

Because she was the one person I would risk everything for. She was the only person I would never hurt, even if she buried a knife in my chest.

I hadn’t realized how much she meant to be until I saw her bound in that chair, bruised and afraid. I hadn’t known how far I was willing to go for her until I felt the rage in my chest as I watched that bastard leaning over her and smirking in her face.

That was when I knew I’d ride to hell and back for this delicate flower.

She wasn’t just a pawn in my game, not anymore. She was more precious to me than anything else—an obsession, perhaps. Property.

She was mine.

Mine to own and protect.