His Wicked Heart

Chapter Thirty-Three

sanguineous
(adj.) accompanied by bloodshed

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PRESENT

ALEKSANDR

"Ne zastavlyay menya narushit' nashu sdelku." I stood with a gun pointed at Mikhail's forehead, and with nineteen guns being pointed at my direction, in the middle of his luxurious mansion, in the middle of a near war.

Anger stronger than a tsunami itself coursed through my body, leaving me itching with the urge to kill every living being that came before me. And the first one to die at my hands would be Mikhail.

I don't give a damn about our deal. I'll turn the earth into ashes if something ever happens to Genevieve.

"You need to calm the fuck down, Aleksandr-"

"I can't fucking calm down when you go around riling me up!"

Agitation made me see red; the veins on my forehead pulsed. Mikhail's jaw clenched in annoyance, probably fed up with my continuous tantrums.

I'd never felt more childish, for God's sake.

But I'd rather be childish than talk niceties with the man who had no business with Genevieve, yet he dared to do exactly what I told him not to.

"What is it that you want with her?" I got near him, my gun still there, though he had already signaled his men to put their guns down. "Why would she meet your father? And what is your fucking business with her?"

I'd been anxious since the moment that woman entered Igor Sokolov's office, Mikhail's father. I had already told her to scream or knock on the door if anything went off the wrong axis. Still, a mere wooden door that had separated us couldn't make me feel any less helpless.

When I asked if I could go in with her, Mikhail strongly refused, which made me want to punch him across his pretty face.

I shouldn't have brought her to Vittoria's in the first place. But sweet Genevieve had found her own ways to convince me, and she was too tempting to resist.

"You don't know what Genevieve means to me." The words Mikhail spat out only made my blood boil more. "You are nothing to her." I was close to shooting him to death, and I wouldn't even feel remorse about it.

His gunmetal eyes turned icy this time, ready to be taken over by the predator he actually was, not the nice guy he fools people into thinking.

"Da, ya. Ya yeye brat." I felt as if it was me who was shot in the heart at that time, mortification gripped my gut tighter than a vice.

Yes, I am. I'm her brother.

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GENEVIEVE

Tick tick tick.

The grandfather clock ticked from behind. Sweat coated my forehead, and my heart was close to forcing itself out of my body, its beat loud against my ribcage.

Tick tick tick.

Mikhail Sokolov is my brother. He's my half-brother.

Sat before me was my father, the man who gave birth to me, the man who claimed he'd been searching for me for years.

The shades of his hair turned white, and aside from the wrinkles that covered his face, he looked like a mesmerizing man even at this age.

Such a man that captivated my mother.