Page 56 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

There was no more fucking time to wait. My wrists strained against the cold steel of the handcuffs, but I launched myself forward, slamming my shoulder against Dmitry’s chest. The force sent both of us crashing to the floor, and his gun clattered loudly somewhere close by.

We landed hard, the adrenaline drowning out all pain. The blood on my face nearly rendering me blind; both of us instinctively scrambled to our feet, clashing together within a second. He swung right into my side, exactly where the stab wound had healed a few months ago.

I was paralyzed by the pain. I stumbled back, and my one second of weakness offered him the upper hand.

One punch to my jaw. Two.

There was no pause. He pummeled me, my head contused from every blunt hit.

“Get on your filthy fucking knees!” He repeated my own words, and the handle of his gun made harsh contact with my nose, knocking me down.

Fuck. This. Shit. Breathless, my knees hit the concrete floor, but this couldn’t have been the end. I just needed a moment; I just needed to catch my breath, to find my balance— just wait!

All the little and big moments in my life led me to this. With all the strength my mind and body possessed, I pulled on the cold steel around my wrists. Ten seconds. I needed just ten seconds to apply enough force to break the fucking chains.

“Finally, on your knees, where you belong, you little bit–” But Dmitry's words were cut off, and we were both suddenly tumbling to the ground again, his whole body slamming into me. I blinked through my own blood to be met with an unholy sight—Mia’s fingernails digging into his eyeballs.

My girl.

That’s all the time that I needed. I pulled with everything I had inside me, finally snapping the steel right when all three of us piled on top of each other.

“ Suka!” He screamed in my ear just as he twisted and threw Mia off him like a piece of trash. Her body hit the floor with a sickening thud, and I saw fucking red.

His blood. That’s all I wanted.

That angry, violent, merciless part of me was now alive.

I lunged at him, mounting his chest. “I warned you—” I sank my fingertips into the soft skin of his neck and throat, “—I will paint the wall with your brains.” I slammed my fist into his nose, the crack and ache in my knuckles a satisfying reprieve from reality.

Harder. His lip split open on the second hit. The third knocked his head back onto the cement floor, his disgusting blood splashing around him.

Harder!

I wanted more blood. Every drop! Every fucking breath he had inside. My body twisted and turned with every punch, and he was already limp, but I didn’t stop. He needed more. I needed more. With every scrape of my raw knuckles against his dismantled face, my hunger was slowly being satisfied.

His face was ravaged and I pulled back, already thinking of how to end him—not without her. Working on instinct, I rushed to the work-bench and pulled out a drawer, snatching some rope. Within a minute his wrists and ankles were bound. He was ready.

I dragged his limp body across the floor toward Jeremy, leaving a trail of red behind him, like a slug. “Hi Jer.” I caught the shock in his eyes once I slumped the traitor at his feet, but fuck them both.

There was only one person who mattered.

“Mia…baby.” I was on my knees beside her in seconds. My ha nds hovered over her, afraid to touch, afraid to hurt her more. Fuck, the crater in her buttcheek bled red, and I ripped my shirt off, covering her body with something, anything.

Real, genuine terror bloomed inside all of me at the sight of her weak and limp body, bloodied, bruised, and cold.

My Sunshine. The woman who made my life worth living. She would’ve never ended up like this if she didn’t link her life with mine. I was careless. I was stupid, na?ve, and blind. A complete fucking fool. Never had I made such a grave mistake in my entire life.

Footsteps and muted gunshots upstairs were few and far between now, but nothing else mattered except her. "Mia…baby. Wake up,” I begged, scooping her into my arms. She was freezing.

My forehead on hers, my lips pronounced the words that couldn’t save her. “I'm so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” I prayed. I prayed to God for her life, for her eyes to open, and for forgiveness. Anything, everything—I would have given up everything to have her safe and sound beside me once more.

"Kirill..." The softest whisper. The most heavenly sound I’d ever heard. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, looking right past me. A little tremble accosted all of her, the shock of pain now fully registering in her body.

My tears flowed out of me, and like the angel that she was, she wiped them away with her bloody fingers.

“I’m here, baby, don’t cry, I– I need a new tattoo,” she breathed out, a little smile on her face.

But then, she fucking laughed. She cackled manically, delirious from the pain and what she’d been through.

I shuddered at her state, and unable to say any words, I pressed my lips to hers, dousing the pain the only way I knew how.

And she answered me back. This was just like the first time—ten years ago.

She was cradled in my arms, pressed against my chest and my heart, and I silently wept, realizing how close I had come to losing her forever.