Page 8

I'd been so occupied with my new hobby, thinking about and hanging out with Ravyn Jensen, that I almost never had the time to bother about that bastard, Arseni.

It had been a few weeks since he was outed as the mole who'd been selling sensitive Bratva information to our enemies. He'd been on the run ever since, using all the tricks he learned from us to elude capture.

I hadn't given his situation much thought, owing to the fact that Ravyn was all that mattered to me these past few weeks. I'd been distracted by her. Yes, I wasn't proud of it, but it was like I didn't have much control over my own thoughts and emotions.

Today, I was seated in my home office, reclining in my chair, my thoughts jogging between Ravyn and Arseni. I hadn't heard from her in a few days, and although this little break was intentional, I still missed her company deep down.

Staying away for some time was a mechanism to help me refocus my attention on the most important aspect of my life: the Bratva. Besides, it was also a way to delay her inquisition about me. I didn't want her asking too many questions and getting too close to the truth.

She would eventually find out someday, but at the moment, I wanted her to remain in the dark. Ignorance, they say, is bliss. Everything would change the day she would find out the truth about what I did for a living. This was a reality that I wasn't ready for.

I never used to care about what people thought of me; to hell with them and their opinions. I'd always taken pride in my position in the Bratva and never felt the need to hide my identity from anyone. But with this young woman, things were different.

Strange. But these days, I found myself increasingly invested in her perception of me. It was as though a part of me that I hadn't fully understood yet cared about what she thought of me.

Such things had never bothered me before, yet here I was, constantly concerned with the impression I made on her. Was I becoming someone else? Was I losing myself over this woman?

I massaged my temples in an attempt to soothe the headache that plagued me. This distraction was affecting my focus, and I hated it. I was losing concentration, but the more I struggled to stay focused, the more I found my thoughts drifting back to her.

She was running through my mind, living rent-free in my head, and as good as it felt, I needed an escape, something else to occupy my mind.

The rhythmic knock on the door pierced through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. It was Andrey's signature knock, and before I could wonder what was so important that he had to interrupt me, my eyes narrowed at the man he walked in with.

A faint smirk played on the corners of my lips, and a sinister anger infused with a malevolent glee overtook me. A fierce satisfaction overwhelmed me at the thought of finally being in the same room with that traitor.

I got out of my chair, my steps menacing and calculating as I walked to the front of my desk. With my eyes fixed on the man whose hands were bound by a rope, I folded my arms across my chest.

Andrey pushed him with a powerful shove that sent him tumbling to the ground at my feet. Arseni's body shuddered as he strained to raise his head. His face was a canvas of bruises, battered and disfigured, with a thick thread of blood hanging off his torn lips. Swollen eyes, blackened and blue, struggled to stay open, staring out from underneath a tangle of cuts and scrapes.

Arseni's features were distorted almost beyond recognition, a testament to the severity of the beating he'd taken. His shirt was ripped, hanging in tatters, revealing a torso mapped with deep cuts and gashes.

“Found him at the airport,” Andrey said, his thick voice dripping with venom. “He was trying to flee the country.”

With a clenched jaw, I squatted in front of him, casting a disdainful look at his pathetic features. “Did you really think that you could betray me and run away?” I asked, my tone malicious.

He swallowed hard, his throat wobbling in fear as he held my gaze, his torn lips quivering.

I seized his jaw, my fingers pressing into his flesh while glaring at him, feeling the weight of his treachery. “Do you have any idea what you've done, what you've cost me?” I questioned, my voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

His eyes widened, highlighting the terror in their depths as he groaned at the pain of my hold against his jaw. I tightened my grip, digging my fingers into his jawbone, reveling in his agony.

Arseni's betrayal had cut deeper than I cared to admit. Maybe this was because I had such high hopes for him. He was a promising young man, loyal and so dedicated to the course of the Bratva that I didn't think that he would even in a million years turn against me.

In spite of his arrogant proposal to join the inner circle, I thought he was just misguided and didn't see him as a threat. The man had my trust even after that silly stunt he pulled. But he broke that trust.

I let go of his jaw, and his head slumped downward, his breathing heavier by the second.

Arseni spat blood and whispered with a strained voice, “Villains are not born; they're made.” He jerked his head to look right into my eyes, a mix of fear and bravery flickering in his gaze. “You made me, Boss.”

My teeth gritted at his words, a pang of vexation swelling within me, and my scowl deepened.

“I spent decades of my life serving you, obeying your every command without question,” he began, his voice rising with each sentence, the fear in his eyes transforming into anger. “I never asked you for anything, but the one request I made, you turned it down without even considering it.”

My lips curled into a smirk as I rose to my feet, burying a hand in my pocket. He thought that he could talk to my conscience after deluding himself into thinking that he was a victim of circumstances. How convenient.

“Your words are empty, Arseni,” I began, my tone icy and full of disdain. “You’ve proven yourself to be a liar and a selfish bastard.” With deliberate slowness, I circled him, my shoes clicking against the floor. “You're not a victim, Arseni, no.” I halted in front of him, feeling the jolt of fury sprinting through me. “You're a traitor, one who broke the vows he swore to our brotherhood.”

In an instant, his anger dissolved, replaced by the terror he tried so hard to mask. Arseni's lips trembled as he watched my countenance turn colder than before. The weight of his betrayal fueled my rage, and my fingers curled up into fists.

“Think…think about everything that I've done for the Bratva,” he stuttered, his survival instincts kicking in, eyes shining with desperation. “Surely, there has to be more than one thing that can melt your heart and make you spare my life.” The words tumbled out of him in a rush as he settled on his knees, his pleading gaze locked on me.

Pathetic.

I had admired his fleeting moment of bravery. At least he would have died like a courageous man, not this coward he'd transformed into.

“Remember the multiple ways I've been helpful to the Bratva—the deals I've secured, the enemies I've put down.” His voice trembled, desperation and pleading creeping into his tone. “Come on, Boss, that has to count for something,” he added, as if hoping to persuade me through sheer volumes.

The more he spoke, the more I felt disgusted by him. How dare he ask for leniency after what he'd done?

In the heat of the moment, none of his accomplishments mattered. None whatsoever. All I could think about were the losses and the deep shit his betrayal had dragged the entire organization into.

“Grant me my life, and I swear you'll never see me again—or better still, I can work for you under strict supervision,” he proposed, clasping both hands in a pleading gesture. “I can…I can fix my mess and get the organization back on track. I can help you raise twice the money you've lost.” He held my gaze, his chest heaving, as a glint of pride flickered in his tone.

I stuck a stick of cigarette between my lips and lit it, taking a long drag. The flavors danced on my tongue as I released a puff of smoke. It was rather entertaining how he overestimated his own importance. The idiot seemed to genuinely believe that his presence was indispensable.

“You need me, Boss—you know you do,” he said, his voice dripping with urgency.

His arrogance and the way he thought the Bratva would crumble without him only fueled my rage.

My brows furrowed, forming deep creases between them, and in one swift motion, I drew my gun from the back of my pants. “I don't need you, and you're not indispensable.”

He raised his hands in front of him, eyes wide with fear, and before his quivering lips could produce any words, I pulled the trigger.

The deafening sound echoed through the room, Arseni's head shooting backward at the impact, a hole drilled in it.

A loud gasp caught my attention as my victim's lifeless body thudded to the floor. I jerked my eyes toward the entrance, and my heart paused for a moment at the individual standing by the door.

Ravyn was frozen in shock, her hand covering her mouth as her eyes shifted across me and the man I'd just killed in cold blood. Her chest was heaving rapidly, terror flickering in her gaze. She looked at me with an unmistakable horror, like I was some kind of monster.

I gritted my teeth, feeling a pang of vexation at the fact that she saw me taking a life. Why was she here at this time, unannounced?

I took gentle steps toward her, but she withdrew in silence, tears streaming down her eyes. Ravyn turned around and bolted without looking back.

“Shit,” I muttered, cursing under my breath.

This would change everything, and now she left me with no choice.