The Beast

Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One
Becoming Impulsive

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LEV

   Get rid of that fucking drink.

   Aistov's reply came immediately. Yes, boss.

   Moye kukolka was the last one in the office, fortunately for me. I studied the camera footage I easily hacked into—specifically focusing on her.

   She looked beautiful. Beautiful enough to convince the mightiest of men to ruin her.

   When Aistov strolled into the building, I gritted my teeth. I trusted my men. I'd tested them myself. But that didn't stop my rage from being stroked each time they engaged with moye kukolka. Even per my request.

   Some of my indignation muffled when she faced Aistov, giving me a clearer view of her features. She raised a hand and spoke, but whatever she said fell on deaf ears. Aistov stole that poisonous fucking drink of hers.

   The camera did not have audio, but I knew she screamed his name as he marched out of the building. Her little pout made my mouth move upward involuntarily, but I quickly stifled the smile that threatened to escape.

   She'd taken her threat seriously; she no longer brought her drinks to my home. But somehow, moye kukolka learned of the eyes I had on her. She's made it a point to still drink three or more a day.

   Any form of disobedience would typically have me contemplating different ways to use my SRK on their body. Yet, I couldn't seem to care for her insubmission. If anything, her challenging behaviour only upheaved my curiosity about my little kukolka.

   And how I loved stroking her fire. Watching her burn away her meek skin.

   Diego snorted, and I stiffened.

   "Something funny, Morale?" My voice dropped several degrees. "Because unless something useful comes out of your mouth, the reasons why you're still alive will shorten."

   "Hey." Diego Morale chuckled nervously. He settled deeper into the couch before stupidly saying, "No harm, Somov. I just thought I'd never see this day, that's all. Seeing the merciless Lev Somov attached to a girl. What would Micah say?"

   Micah.

   I acted instinctively.

   Veering the SRK to Diego, I held it steadily against his jugular.

   "Wrong thing to say, Morale."

   Unlike his stupid fucking brother, Diego carefully raised a hand in surrender. "Mean nothing bad about it, Somov. You know I think it's great. I like her. Shy but cute."

   His words did nothing to ease my temper. If anything, my vision started to blacken. I pressed the knife closer to his flesh, wanting to cut a slice for myself.

   "Keep your fucking thoughts off the girl. Don't look at her, and don't make fucking comments if you want to keep your tongue. I have no qualms about decorating this couch of yours with your blood."

   I waited for his short nod before pulling the SRK back.

   "Whatever else you learn about the cartel, tell me. Let me know when you speak to the Albanian's." I stood up, adjusting my slacks.

   Diego nodded again. "You're leaving?"

   "I have more important business to attend to." Bored of this conversation, I strode to the exit of the club. Viktor followed behind me.