Page 97 of The Games of Madmen

Climbing off of his back, I waltz over to the donkey dick fucker whose dead eyes peer up at the ceiling. It’s a shame he couldn’t be alive for this.

Taking the scissors, I chop through the thick skin like sausage meat until his cock comes away in my hand.

“I’m not bound by revenge,” I tell Yuri, grasping a handful of his hair and tilting his head up to mine. It’s fucking beautiful to see the light dimming in his evil, monstrous eyes. “I’m bound by love. And that’s why you can’t fucking live.” I shove the fatty tissue into his mouth until it’s full and he chokes his last breath on it. “But revenge does feel good.”

I walk around the pommel horse and yank down his slacks, grabbing the biggest dildo he planned to rape me with, and I shove it up his ass. I stand over his body, blood soaking my bare skin, a wild smile on my lips just as Darya walks into the room.

Shit.

Her amber eyes, so much like Viktor’s, expand and her pretty mouth forms an O.

“Well, this is awkward.” I wince, swiping my arm over my lips to remove blood.

“Alyona?” She says my name in disbelief. It has been a while since she last saw me.

“Hey, bestie.” I wave my sticky fingers.

Okay, I’m probably too terrifying, and looking too much like a bloody character from a Stephen King novel, to be teasing her like old times. Not the best timing.

“Did he hurt you?” She looks frantically around the room, and my insides feel fuzzy at her concern, considering I’m the one who is alive and everyone else is dead.

“I didn’t expect to see you here?” I admit. Darya fucking hates Yuri more than any of us. She was used in this role by him for months before her true identity was discovered.

“It’s a long story,” she says as she takes in the scene, her teeth worrying her lip. She picks up my wig and frowns.

Footfalls echo down the hallway, and Darya’s face pales. She tosses the wig behind a sitting chair and gestures for me to get moving. “Hide, now.”

Shit. Panic surges through me. I need to get out of here. I took too long drawing out Yuri’s death. Since the fucker still has my hair in his grip, I carefully collect it all and then hunt for a place to hide. I’m not leaving obvious evidence behind.

I quickly dart behind one of the heavy curtains, my heart racing. It would be a shame to get caught now. I need to survive. Keep my promise to my madmen.

To my utter shock, Darya drops to her knees near the Donkey Dick dude’s puddle of blood, and starts smacking at it with her hands. She smears it on her arms and face, too.

Yep, we’re definitely characters in a horror novelbecause what the actual fuck, Darya?!

There’s a large decorative mirror on the wall opposite Yuri’s desk and I can see the entire room from my hiding spot. Darya rises to her feet, her entire front splattered and smeared with that monster’s blood, and begins trembling. My legs turn to lead when Vlad enters the room a second later. He was supposed to be out of town on business according to Diana.

Did she rat me out?

No way. She fucking hates Yuri too and could have ratted me out at any time.

She’s no traitor.

“Darya,” he exclaims, his voice laced with panic as he bursts through the room, his eyes skimming the chaotic scene before him. “Are you hurt?”

She gives him a shake of her head. “It’s not my blood.”

He blows out a breath of relief and says, “The housemaid is under strict instruction to inform me if my father ever requests you to come to his office. I came as soon as she told me.” I’ve never heard Vlad sound anxious about someone other than Viktor. He had a soft spot for his brother, but not enough to stop his father from sending him away.

“He,” she begins to cry, “tried to…”

“Don’t,” he commands softly, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck as he pulls her close, letting her rest against his chest. “I thought he knew better after all this time. I’m sorry I put you at risk by asking you to come over here.” His voice has genuine concern which is shocking to be quite honest.

“I stopped them,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper, taking the blame for their deaths.

Oh my God. Is it awful if I let her go along with this?

“I can see that Vas has taught you well.” He frowns as he looks at his father’s body. “Did you do all of this?” There’s suspicion in his tone, and I notice his reflection scowling at the position and condition Yuri’s in. Yet, there’s no sadness in his expression.