Page 57 of The Tsar’s Obsession (Bratva Sinners #1)

Cover Your Eyes

Mia

Faint, but definitely there, I heard Kirill’s voice in the middle of Dmitry’s carving. He came for me; he was here. This would be over soon. I focused on breathing, the only action I had strength for.

I was plunged into a delirious trance of pain and hate.

My thoughts were sharp, and vivid images of my past infiltrated my mind.

I saw him again—that young boy I kissed ten years ago.

That young boy—dangerous and intriguing.

That young boy who awakened my chase for a high that, up until this moment, I couldn’t figure out.

That little fun and flirty thing I did ignited a craving. It burned low and slow, always there, but with him, it exploded. With him beside me, I was fearless, just like that one time on the dance floor. With him I was an angel and a devil. I was fire and ice. I was light…and I was darkness.

I chose Kirill and everything that came with him—his world…was just an afterthought.

I was finally alive. I no longer lived in a simulation; I broke out of the matrix. Nothing was fake. No shackles, no restraints, I wanted that high—always. He was the drug.

In his arms, on his lap, close to him—that’s the only place I ever wanted to be. I was his, irrevocably, come hell or high water, and he was mine.

I asked for what I wanted; I wasn’t afraid to feel. And I was feeling it all now. When I asked for just one night, I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew then, deep down, I understood that it would never be enough. A whole lifetime would never be enough.

Madness, passion, lust, sacrifice, love, care, tenderness, vulnerability—everything. I wanted it all with him, and that’s exactly what we had. There was no doubt in my mind, not an ounce of hesitation anymore. I would stay in his possessive arms and fulfill every single one of my deepest desires.

“Sunshine…” I was. I would always be.

“Svet moy…” I was his world, his light. And he was mine.

“Bab–”

“Baby, I think we should kill him,” I whispered the words, searching his green eyes for confirmation. And there it was—that sparkle in his eyes. Eyes couldn’t really sparkle, could they?

But his did.

“That’s a great idea, my love. I’m going to get you off the cold floor, okay?”

“You’re hurt,” I squeaked out, not understanding how he had so much blood on him. My eyes adjusted to his mangled look. His eyebrow was bleeding profusely, his lip was cut, blood was trickling out of his nose and ear, and his knuckles were raw.

“It’ll heal before our wedding. Come on, Sunshine.” Amused at his words, I enjoyed the feeling of his tender touch as he scooped me into his arms, carrying me into the unknown.

Up the steps we went—but wait! We weren’t finished! Just as I was about to open my mouth to ask why we were leaving, Kirill stepped onto the landing, and in the lobby of the small building, leaning against the marble steps, was Yuri—holding onto his stomach, a pained expression on his face .

“Oh my God, Yuri!” He was hurt! With me in his hands, Kirill kneeled beside him. “Let’s get him help; let’s go!” I sniffled, knowing that no help could possibly make a difference.

"No. Too late. I die here. But Kirusha, send me home.” Yuri gulped, his face ghost-white. “Please. I want to lie down in…motherland." His hand clasped Kirill’s, both of their bloods mixing on their skin.

And then he gave me his last gift—a genuine smile, full of admiration and love. “I’m sorry…can’t come to wedding.” He chuckled with great effort right before he closed his eyes, and tears burst out of mine.

Kirill uncovered Yuri's injury, giving me a glimpse too. Half of Yuri’s insides were spilling out, the sight making me lightheaded and nauseous as I gulped down my sorrow.

"I’ll do everything, Yura. You’re my guardian angel," Kirill spoke quietly. "I would’ve been long lost without you. You were like my father. A much better one than my real one." It seemed that Yuri smiled at Kirill’s words, but in a moment, he was gone, and the hand that held Kirill’s slipped out and slumped down beside his lifeless body.

Unable to stop the flood of tears, painful sobs escaped me at seeing a lifeless Yuri. A life lost to save mine.

Kirill ripped me away, and, in a few seconds, I was leaning against his car while my pain was both excruciating and numb.

Tears, blood, cocaine, death. It was all a blur as I mindlessly watched Kirill take out a first aid kit and a half-full bottle of vodka from the trunk of his car.

His eyes already filled with an apology, I clued into what awaited me, and a new wave of fear washed over me.

"Okay, this will really hurt, but we have no choice right now, sunshine.” I had no chance to protest or negotiate this. He came up behind me, pressing me into the car, and panic filled all of me.

"No, please, Kirill, don't do it, please; it’ll hurt so much,” I begged, my mind swirling with dreadful anticipation. So much pain, so much death, so much darkness—I was exhausted.

"I know, I know, baby, but we have to. I’m here." So gentle, just like he always was, he squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek, a low whisper promising me again. "I know you can do this. On three, okay?"

Lost for words, I stared into his beautiful eyes, waiting for the countdown. “One.” But that was all he gave me. Cold liquid slithered down my hip and thigh, covering the open wound, crashing a wave of pain into me.

I shook and writhed, pinned against the car by Kirill, but I took it all. The scream echoed in the little alleyway, but Kirill never stopped, meticulously pouring and clearing the dirt and dust off my open flesh.

“Fuck! Stop! Please! Stop!” His hug tightened at my pleas, and he ended the medieval medical treatment right as my knees buckled.

Slumping over the back seat, the leather was cool and pleasant against my skin.

I didn’t care what happened next as long as he was with me.

Kirill tended to the injury, covering it with gauze and tape.

He lifted me up and pressed me into his chest, holding me in his arms once again…

and forevermore. We were one. “I love you more than life, Mia.” Every syllable was pronounced carefully, right at my ear.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He sniffled into my hair, supporting my broken body.

The smell of him was slowly injecting life back into me.

“I promise you will laugh at this one day, baby, I promise.”

“We,” I corrected him. “We will laugh.” My breath caught in my lungs, like I was nervous to be beside him again. "I really missed you, Kirill. I really fucking missed you." Not letting him get a word out, and despite the pain, I stood on my tippy toes and finally connected my lips with his.

I forgot all my grievances against him. He was here, he was mine, and I’d never let him go again. I was going to accept his sins and mistakes, but I never wanted to be anywhere else except in his arms.

Oxygen filled up my lungs again as if I had been living underground all these weeks without him. I forgot where I was and what had just happened, only focusing on the sweet taste of his lips, forever mine.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, but he kept his eyes closed, wishing for this moment to continue. We would, but first…there was one thing we needed to do. "Come on, let's go finish that motherfucker off."

It was my turn to lecture Dmitry.

The vodka bottle at my lips, I took a big swig and contorted my entire face to get over the taste of the disgusting clear liquid. Cocaine, vodka, pain. I’d fucking tell Dmitry everything I had on my mind.

In his arms, we descended the steps again, Kirill carefully stepping over several dead bodies—Yuri’s handiwork. The basement was ours now, and the balance of power had shifted fully in my favor.

Kirill set me gently in a chair, double-checking that I wasn’t leaning on my injury. He always took care of me first.

With a loud grunt, Kirill hauled a tied-up and unconscious Dmitry into a chair. “Fuck, he’s heavy!” he complained, but it was all music to my ears, and I giggled. At a time like this, I giggled. Poor Jeremy was half catatonic, merely observing the events in front of him.

“Okay, baby, which part do you think we should start with?” Kirill took his spot in front of Dmitry, the switchblade that pierced my skin now in his hands.

“Wake him up first.” Kirill followed my instructions without question, landing his palm on Dmitry’s bloody cheek. His head whipped to one side, but he slowly blinked his eyes open, quickly beginning to realize the position he was in.

“No more lectures, Dima?” I taunted him once he figured out that the rope in his mouth would only allow him to grunt and moan. He jerked violently, both Kirill and I waiting for him to appreciate the turn of events.

My smile was unhinged. I felt it, but my glee couldn’t be contained. “You know what, baby? Start with his finger. The one that he used to put the knife in me.”

Pain was warping my mind. Nothing felt real anymore.

A piece of my body was carved out of me.

I was held down on the cement floor, seconds away from being raped by one or multiple men, and, fuck, was I thirsty for revenge.

The recurring nightmares that I was bound to have from what we were about to engage in seemed worth it.

“Whatever my Sunshine wants,” Kirill’s deep voice boomed. Wasting no time, he took a step behind Dmitry, working his black magic.

The guttural, muffled scream that left Dmitry’s chest infiltrated all of me. His reaction was surprising considering how easily he inflicted pain on others. I didn’t want to hear it, so I turned the laptop back on, turning up the volume on the video.

Kirill's head popped up from behind Dmitry almost instantly. He stared at the screen, the realization slowly dawning on him. “Is that us?!” he asked incredulously and emerged from behind the sicko’s back holding a thumb, bloody and real.

“You’ve been recording us?” Kirill snapped his head to a fading Dmitry. “That’s sick, you know that?” He lectured him, but Dmitry was crying and shaking against the ropes, his pitiful muffled screams starting to annoy me.

Kirill’s eyes latched onto something behind me, and he took a few quick steps to rip the duct tape off Jeremy’s lips. Without a word, he slapped it haphazardly over Dmitry’s mouth, for no particular reason.

Before the moment was over, I turned the volume full blast and, with Kirill’s help, leaned over Dmitry to speak into his ear. He kept his eyes closed, breathing heavily and whimpering loudly.

"This is my favorite part,” I murmured in his ear. “Where I get to enjoy my boyfriend inside me. You know, besides being a fucking demented coke head, you could have had a normal sex life. But no, you chose the path of true insanity and sadism."

My smile was genuine and unstoppable, and I leaned back onto Kirill as we enjoyed the moment together, the moans and the images of the video providing a filthy soundtrack. The video played, and our passion and chemistry practically jumped off the screen. Damn, we looked good together.

I watched how our bodies tangled, and Kirill’s arms locked around me, supporting me as I rode him. My body melted into him, and our foreheads touched in intoxicating closeness.

Fuck, I missed him. I missed us .

Inspired by the images on the screen, my love’s arms snaked around my waist, securing me in place. Right where I belonged. “I love you so much, Sunshine. Will you forgive me?” he whispered into my neck, soft, pleading. “Please come back to me. I can't live without you."

Dmitry’s pained grunt was our only interruption, but Kirill paid him no attention. Instead, he stabbed the switchblade into his shoulder, still holding onto me and waiting for my answer.

Together, we were untouchable.

“I love you too, baby.” My eyes fluttered shut, drowning in his scent, his warmth, his strength. “I'll forgive you, but…you'll have to earn it."

I interrupted his smile with my lips, the kiss hot, sweet, and depraved. God, I couldn’t detach myself, so thirsty, so starved for him. Reality echoed somewhere in the background, and there was one last thing we needed to do.

Reluctantly, I pulled away and shut the laptop.

"You were going to teach me how to shoot," I mused, my voice carrying across the space, making sure everyone heard me. "We never got around to it, but now seems like the perfect time for a lesson, don’t you think?"

Kirill laughed easily, his chest rising and falling. "I love your sense of humor, baby.” His eyes were dark, feral. Confident. “This is the perfect time. Come.”

With his help, I hopped over to stand right in front of Dmitry, the discarded gun from earlier now in our hands.

Kirill’s chest pressed into my back, always supporting me.

“This is the safety. You have to remove it before you press the trigger—ooof, yeah, baby, just like that,” he groaned, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“You look so good like this,” he whispered, lifting up the weapon to point right at Dmitry’s head.

I caught the look in Dmitry’s eyes, shutting mine in response. Kirill’s hands settled over mine, his finger covering mine on the trigger. "On three," he murmured against my ear, the instruction absolute. “One."

Together, we pulled the trigger. One single shot—the perfect ending. Dmitry’s body crumpled, lifeless, and my head fell back onto my man’s shoulder. He caught my lips with his. I was his woman again, this time, forever.

“Mmm, baby,” Kirill hummed against my lips, indulgent and tender. “Can you wait five minutes before we get out of here?”

“Yes,” I laughed softly. “I can wait for you.”

Carefully, he placed me back into the chair and crouched in front of me, his green eyes so innocent and pure.

“I only have a switchblade.” He held up the cold steel and looked at me knowingly, referring to the last time he said that sentence.

“But this time…I have to do more. Cover your ears and close your eyes, okay, baby?” My knees shook at his words, but I nodded, bringing my hands to my ears and shutting my eyes. I trusted him fully.