The Monster (18+)

Chapter 9: Selfish For Her

Chapter Nine
"Selfish For Her"

DIMITRI

   "You were supposed to be back in Russia by now."

   I hummed distractedly. My second-in-command huffed in annoyance next to me. "Boss," he said tersely, although I could tell from his tone that he was warning me. "You were supposed to meet with the Dynasties last week."

   "If they are complaining, they should do it to my face." I smiled in sick satisfaction at the sight in front of me. "And I know you keep them updated."

   "Yes. But you..." He stopped and quickly rephrased, "We've already gotten all the information we needed from the Albanian's."

   I said nothing, but my fingers found their way to the instrumental tray next to me. They curled on the first tool I touched while I kept my head forward, enjoying the sight of the man whimpering on the floor in front of me.

   With a certain fondness, I lifted the pliers and caressed the sharp tip. Alekseev, still bleeding from his wounds, managed to lift his head enough to meet my eyes. I was pleased when his face paled further. Terror fuelled me. It made me all the more excited to rip the skin off my victim. And Alekseev was only seeing the beginning of my anger.

   Next to me, Boris shuffled closer, but his words were almost hesitant as he murmured, "Is it because of the girl?"

   My fingers fastened around the weapon, until my nails were digging into my palms. I steadied my gaze on the pool of blood that was growing by the minute, but I heard some of my men shuffling silently in the corner. This was a learning exercise for them.

   Do not vow loyalty when you are not loyal. This was something Alekseev had to learn.

   Yet, even though Alekseev's betrayal fed my bloodthirsty habits, Boris' words had me picturing a certain blonde. Her green eyes. Her fucking smile.

   I tried to keep myself distracted, so I dropped the pliers and decided to use something simple for Alekseev. I picked up the scalpel.

   Lazily, I brought it in front of my eyes and casually fiddled with the handle, but my body was stiff with warning.

   Boris spoke lowly. "If you get mixed with her again, your enemies will use her. You know this."

   The thought of someone even looking at her had me clenching my jaw. Ideas of torture were already constructing in my thoughts when another voice spoke up.

   "She might die."

   My head snapped to the right. Against the concrete wall were four men. Some of the Russian's I brought with me. The one on the far-left cringed, and I tightened my grip on the scalpel, my gaze warning.

   Lowering his head in submission, he explained, "From our enemies. They might... hurt her."

   I did consider this when I found her working at my bar. After some time gloating and feeling satisfied that I found her despite her efforts, I had men follow her. Just in case.

   The corner of my mouth rose reflexively when I remembered our conversation two days ago. I am consumed by her smile, but I couldn't ignore the pleasure I feel when she fights with me. She is the only one.

   "You'd prefer? I'd prefer you leave me alone! I don't want any part of whatever you do in your life." 

   I shook my head and softly tsked under my breath, not stopping my smirk from widening. Moye solnyshko was very erratic at times. I had a difficult time not laughing when she was yelling.