KILL ME SOFTLY

38

I'm in your veins like pretty poison

Aleksei POV

I underestimated Syn.

And I will admit that.

I will admit that I believed at first that she was no more than a plight and a pawn and the worst choice possible to fill the shoes for Mr.Volkan to pick as his bride. He needed a wife to show stability to his pay-rollers, the possibility of an heir to show his power.

And he chose Syn. The woman chained and gagged who's eyes were are sharp and shaded as his. The other woman up on that stage were quite, submissive, convincible. But He picked her.

But of course he liked her danger. Her beauty. Her anger like rage he's only ever seen in himself. An added bonus, after he looked into her history and found out what it meant, he knew she was worth that rage that poured out of her.

Syn Carnahan, a last name as bloody and powerful as she is bold and angry.

Yet her name didn't matter to him in the end. Because he didn't care about the politics of it anymore. I doubt he'll admit that now that she is gone, that he cared about her more then for the money and the man he's gotten for it, And that, it was a cruel and stupid thing that he didn't.

It was a cruel thing that now, now they see that they meant something to each other, more than whatever else the world echoed for them. And that now, Syn looked at him like he'd shoot him again without hesitation. She didn't look at him how she did before.

I have been silent. I have watched. I have warned. I warned him not to want her, what it would do to them, and I watched him need and call for her in this darkness anyways.

I watched him try to stop it all, I watched him look at her in ways he's never looked at anything ever. I watched her look at him like maybe he could be the thing that would draw her to her reckoning.

I watched him sign those divorce papers and I watched how despite it all, despite everything that he has done and everything she had wanted and the rage that seeped ichor black hell into Syns eyes, I saw that whatever part of her that could be capable of love, wanted to love him. And I saw how she wiped that possibility from her mind the second he singed his name and her eyes turned dark as she turned to survival and revenge to wipe away the hurt and betrayal of it all,

I didn't think it was possible for Elias Volkan to love someone. Until I watched what her absence did to him. Love? I am not even quite sure he has ever loved himself.

Maybe it's wrong to say that it's love, maybe obsession, heartache, even desperation for something to feel would be better. But I have never seen whatever it is the fuck that they have. Had.

But the way he sits and he stares and he thinks and he tears apart rooms and bloodies his hands—and of course he's done such things before, but not like this. Not ever like this. Not while saying her name in whispers he thinks no one else can hear. 

He's silent, not like before. A different kind of silent that brings a chill to my bones.

The best version of him is when she's with him. She's not here anymore.

He'd kill me for doing this.

I'm his most trusted friend. Loyal fighter. Willing and truthful confidant. I have been here for Damn near two decades and before Syn I'd never do this.

Yet if I asked him, if I told him, he'd refuse and he'd regret it. He'd refuse out of spite, suspicion, an untrusting spirit.

"Can you do this for me or not?" Syn spoke through the speaker of her phone, her voice rushed, yet not desperate. She spoke of a plan. One that was barely conceived and full of dependancies and ifs.

I looked towards the sky as rain began to pour, and I skunk backwards towards the wall to avoid its downpour. I looked around me once more, to make certain no one was listening.

I swallowed. Can I? Yes, I very well could. I easily could. Should I?

"Yes." I said, and I turned my gaze forward again. He'd kill me for it, but I don't want to see what he'll do and what he'll become if she didn't make it out of this. He's a brilliant leader, a masterful sinner, a dangerous enemy. He could be dangerous to himself even more so, "Are you certain that this—"

"Do this thing for me, and It will." She said, her voice like knives pointed towards me. She was hardly asking. But she was bold to have called me, smart for having not called Mr.Volkan.

Syn was always an angry woman. But she sounded—different. Cold. Brutal. Not at all the woman she was before. Not the woman who hated blood. Now she sounded like she wanted nothing more than to bathe in it.

"Yes." I said, and I heard her exhale slightly.

I let my mouth fall open slightly as a small silence flooded the call, "are you safe syn, just tell me that."

She said nothing. Nothing at first,

"No. He's going to try to kill me after I sign those papers tomorrow." She said to me coldly. "So Get it done." She scowled, before the phone line dropped and she hung up.

Gone.