Page 66

I am unsure if I should be worried.

It had been hours since I last laid eyes on Sevan and she had broken her previous claims of joining us while we play chess.

We had eaten, played numerous games of chess, got dessert when Sevan showed no signs of making it in time, and then I even tucked Arina in—telling her a bedtime story like Yuri would do.

Now I sit with Ivan as he plays chess, juggling the idea of drinking vodka.

I just feel very stressed.

Sevan stresses me out.

The executioners stress me out too.

I feel as if it is a bad thing Sevan has not made it back yet.

I had blamed it on traffic.

And then I blamed it on a possible emergency.

But now my intuition is screaming at me that it is something more.

Perhaps they hurt Sevan.

But why would they do that?

They were very peaceful at the funeral.

But maybe that was only for show.

There was a child present.

No...

If they wanted to say something they would have.

They have never struck me as the type to behave otherwise.

Something else is wrong here.

"Checkmate," I heard Ivan say, snapping me from my thoughts.

And I quickly realized I zoned out of the chess game we were playing.

Well, technically not anymore.

Ivan... won?

"Vau," I whispered, eyeing the chessboard.

It was a very close game but Ivan did it.

For the first time ever he had beaten me.

"Very good job Ivo," I said, feeling a smile grow so wide on my lips as I stood from my chair.

But only to walk past the table and hug him.

Which still seemed to catch him off guard even after our previous hugs.

"You do very good," I told him as he hesitantly hugged me back.

"Thank you..." he trailed off almost hesitantly, "I am not used to this—I always assumed you would flip table over if I won."

I laughed slightly as we pulled back from the hug, "A few months ago, da—but I am a changed woman," I told him, my tone light and joking.

"I see that," Ivan said as I leaned away from him, "I also see that there is something weighing on your mind."

I nodded a few times, glancing around at the empty alcohol shelves.

Thank god we had the staff pour out all of the alcohol today.

Or I swear I think I might've genuinely considered pouring a glass.

But given my conscience, I probably would've only stared at it—refusing to drink any of it.

"Sevan," I suddenly said, turning to face Ivan, "She is not back yet and... it worries me."

Ivan immediately nodded, "It has been very long time—would you like me to get car ready?" he asked.

I immediately shook my head, "Nyet, what if they are having very long meeting and I interrupt?" I asked him, now overthinking even my own intuition, "We are supposed to prioritize our roles still."

Ivan stood from his chair with a confused look, "Have you sent her text?" he asked.

"Da, numerous texts actually and she does not answer," I explained, knowing that alone was very odd.

"So you have good excuse then," Ivan determined with a shrug, "You just say you were checking up on her."

I nodded a few times, "I guess that will be sufficient enough," I said, already planning how I would word what I say if I just so happened to interrupt their meeting.

"Good, I get car ready for you," Ivan determined as he walked past me, "You will go check on her and I will stay here just in case Arina wakes up."

I immediately nodded, "That works very well," I said, turning on my heel to follow him.

But not after pulling my black fur coat back on.

And grabbing a couple of weapons.

Only one of my best guns and then a knife—just in case Sevan is in any trouble.

I was seated in the backseat of Maybach within ten minutes, bidding Ivan goodbye and heading out of the city.

And instead of dreading the hour-long drive, I decided to take a moment to take in my surroundings.

How the city slowly faded into the countryside.

Or the snow-covered grass and the glistening stars.

It was very beautiful at night under the soft moonlight.

The sight of endless land made my anxiety fade slightly—trying to focus on a positive reason regarding my girlfriend's absence.

But as soon as I stepped out of that car and processed the familiar small glass house—every anxious thought I had came back tenfold.

It was odd walking into the small building lined with elevators, inhaling the familiar smell, and recalling so much before this.

Before us.

It was almost like full-circle moment.

The elevator weirdly seemed to allow me clearance to the first floor without a keycard.

Which meant someone knew I was here.

Hopefully, Sevan.

I tapped my shiny stiletto impatiently on the marble floors as the elevator descended.

Until it finally dinged open moments later.

I didn't waste a second stepping off of it, walking past the familiar bar and couch as I walked down the long hallway with chandeliers towering over me.

It was silent.

Too silent.

Even as I made it to the familiar double doors, I made sure to listen for a moment—contemplating if she was even here.

Perhaps they all go somewhere else to a different location.

They might've had business elsewhere to handle.

Or maybe they took her somewhere against her will.

The idea of that makes me very angry.

To the point that I tugged down on the door handle, which happened to be unlocked—firmly pushing the door open.

I furrowed my brows almost immediately at the sight in front of me, hesitantly taking a step into the familiar office.

The bar off to the side looked just the same—recalling how she had forced burning alcohol down my throat.

Or even the leather couch.

The same one she had sat on as I fucked her.

There were so many memories wrapped in this room alone.

"Sevan..." I trailed off as I quietly closed the door behind me.

She was seated behind her desk with her coat off and her sleeves rolled up, holding a half-empty glass of dark liquor.

I am very confused right now.

She looks... irritated?

No.

Sad?

I am unsure.

Her hair looks disheveled too—almost like she had run her fingers through it a few times.

"Sevan," I repeated myself again, stopping in front of her desk as I analyzed her face more closely, "Did someone hurt you malyshka?" I asked, trying to get a better look at her body behind the desk.

Because why else would she still be here and miss all the plans she had made with us?

"You could say that," Sevan finally spoke, sighing as she set her glass down.

My brows unconsciously furrowed as I watched her stand from her chair—in perfect health might I add.

"Where are you hurt?" I asked, watching as she rounded her desk, "You had me very worried when you missed our plans."

Sevan hummed almost tightly, naturally confusing me even more.

But she didn't say anything.

Instead, she met my stare.

For the first time since the moment I had walked into this room.

And for some reason, she looked very upset with me.

"I'm going to ask you this one time, Zinovia," she went to speak, staring so precisely into my eyes, "And I want you to be honest with me."

I nodded almost hesitantly, unsure of what she was about to ask me.

Until it clicked.

It all clicked actually.

How Nazara was the one who mentioned something about them all speaking with Sevan.

Or how she would not answer my texts or come back to my compound.

And now she looks at me with almost a deep reluctance—like she does not even want to look at me at all.

She knows.

"Did you or did you not kill Dario and cover up his death until this very point?" Sevan calmly asked me.

I drew in a deep breath, feeling my stomach turn with knots as I nodded almost reluctantly, "Da, but Sevan—"

"Did you or did you not let me talk to you about his funeral—about his death without telling me what you had done?" Sevan asked me, her voice still concerningly calm.

I nodded again, feeling my face burn under her stare, "I did but we—"

"Did you or did you not know how close I was with him and yet you still kept this from me until this point of our relationship?" Sevan asked, her stare practically burning into my face as she kept the large gap of space present between us both.

"I did but it was a different time, Sevan," I tried to explain, taking a step toward her.

But she only took one back from me, instilling the space between us.

"And I forgave you for the Nerissa issue and—"

"We're not doing that," Sevan immediately cut me short, shaking her head a few times, "We're not playing that card knowing it's two entirely different circumstances."

I shook my head, "But it was still a lie that I forgive you for," I tried to say, hoping we could just call this even and move past it.

"So that's the only reason you forgave me, Zinovia?" Sevan clarified, looking at me in nothing but disappointment, "It was all to comfort your own conscience?"

I shook my head, "Nyet, I just-I thought it would be even—that we would be even," I tried to explain, but I swear it felt like I was doing very bad job.

I just feel very caught off guard.

And... very upset.

I am very upset that she is upset.

She looks beyond disappointed at my actions.

"Even?" Sevan said as a forced laugh fell from her lips, sounding so cold and almost angry, "You killed someone who was a brother to me and lied about it."

I nodded a few times, "I know-I know—"

"No, you don't know, Zinovia," Sevan cut me short, her voice quickly losing its calm, "But since you want to be even we can be fucking even."

I furrowed my brows, "No I do not mean it like that—I do not want you to seek vengeance, Sevan," I clarified, realizing Ivan would most likely be collateral for my actions.

And her killing him would hurt me very deeply.

Which helps me see her point of view, realizing Dario was her Ivan.

And I killed him.

"Are you even sorry, Zinovia?" Sevan asked, and I could see her jaw growing tighter—beyond irritated with me.

"For lying... I am very sorry," I assured her, pursing my lips at my next statement, "But at that moment, I killed him because you threatened to kill my best friend so—"

"So you aren't sorry?" Sevan clarified, drawing in a deep restrained breath, "You're not sorry for killing Dario?"

I blinked a few times, "I... I do not think so—given the circumstances at the time," I whispered honestly, hoping she would understand what I am trying to say.

But it does not feel like she does.

"You know, I don't even have to seek vengeance," Sevan suddenly said, shaking her head at me, "I also don't have to feel sorry for being the one who called in the order to kill your father."

I felt my face visibly drop at her words, blinking a few times as I considered if I hallucinated what she just said.

But it was hard to hallucinate something that echoed in the air for seconds to come.

And Sevan did not regret a single word she said.

"Now we're even," Sevan determined, almost nonchalantly, "Lie for lie—kill for kill."

I shook my head, "You did not kill my father Sevan, you only make this up—"

"The nurse by his side when he died was the one sent to inject him," Sevan cut me short before I could discredit her words, "His death was sped up so we could pass his title to someone more capable."

I shook my head as I processed this.

Processed all of this actually.

My father did not die from his health issues.

It was Sevan.

And the executioners—considering she uses the word we.

"I kill you for this Sevan," I breathed out, tugging my gun from my coat pocket before I could think it through, "You dethrone Russian mafia leader then I kill you," I clarified, knowing it was necessary precaution.

No one kills the leader of Russian mafia without repercussions.

But I also cannot kill Sevan without repercussions.

And I do not mean executioners.

I care so little about them.

The real repercussions would be having to live with the fact that I killed the woman I am in love with.

"Go ahead, Zinovia," Sevan said, clearly calling my bluff as she stood calmly in front of me.

So I clicked the safety of the gun off to prove to her that I am serious.

Or mostly to prove to myself that I am serious.

That I have to do this.

It would be against everything I stand for—everything my family stands for—if I did not.

"Kill me, Zinovia," Sevan said, grabbing the end of the gun.

And instead of tugging it out of my hands completely, she pulled the end of the gun to her chest.

"Pull the trigger," Sevan demanded when I remained silent and stiff as I contemplated how we had gotten here.

And so quickly.

It was like our entire world had flipped upside down in a matter of hours.

I just told her I love her and now we do this?

I shook my head as my grip tightened around the handle of the gun, hearing my thoughts scream at me for being a disappointment and a coward to my mafia.

For being a disappointment to my father who had been killed instead of passing away naturally.

I grunted as I roughly threw the gun to the side, allowing it to fall to the marble floor with a loud clatter.

And before I could think it through, I had grabbed my knife from my other pocket, flicking it open and—

Slicing it across Sevan's stomach.

Which earned a grunt from her, not expecting my attack in the slightest.

And neither did I.

My eyes were wide as I neared her, unable to stop myself from fulfilling what was so deeply instilled in me.

But just as I lifted the knife up to stab her, Sevan ripped the knife from my hand entirely with a grunt.

I lifted my hand in defense when she neared me, but she grabbed me quicker than I could process—painfully twisting my arm behind my back.

Which immediately evoked the roughest scream from the back of my throat, especially when I felt the sharp blade of my own knife slice across my covered back.

I gasped almost rapidly, trying to fight away the pain burning down my back as blood seeped through my dress and coat.

"We're even," Sevan breathed out as she let go of my arm, and I could suddenly hear the knife clatter to the floor.

I breathed heavily, feeling pain with each breath I dared to take as I stumbled around to face her.

"I hate you so... much," I breathed out, lifting up my hands to roughly push her shoulders.

But she only grabbed my hands in midair and pulled me into her completely.

"You love me," she corrected, each word that she spoke oozing with the pain I left her in.

I shook my head almost rapidly, unconsciously gripping her arms for support as she stumbled back into the nearest wall.

"Blyat," I breathed out as I leaned deeper into her, feeling her hands naturally grab my waist to help steady us both.

I couldn't help but glance down from her eyes, realizing the lack of space between our faces.

And also my lips threatening to graze hers.

Her lips were pressed to mine before I could process it, holding me so close to her as I unconsciously kissed her back.

I knew I shouldn't.

I knew this was wrong.

That us together was definitely wrong.

But I could not stop.

We could not stop.

"I hate that I love you so fucking much, Sevan," I forced out against her lips as she deepened the kiss.

"And I just love you," Sevan said as if it were that simple for her, "You have fucking ruined me, Zinovia."

I shook my head, groaning painfully when my back burned worse with my open wound, "We were ruined to begin with," I breathed out, my voice shaky and her lips so warm and soft against mine.

This is hell.

This has to be hell.

"Clearly not enough," Sevan mumbled as I instinctively put pressure on her wound, earning a rough grunt from her.

I swear I had never imagined I would feel so much pain while kissing someone—especially the woman I am in love with.

But maybe it is better this way.

Maybe we truly are meant for each other.

I can't believe we're actually done with Ruined.