He turned to look at me, a shit-eating grin on his face. I hated that he’d seen any kind of reaction in me, because men like him would use it to their advantage. They’d see it as a weakness. And I couldn’t lie and say he was wrong.
Lina was a weakness, an addiction, and I hadn’t even sampled. She made all rational thoughts leave my head, and she didn’t even have to be in the same room to succeed.
Everything else faded away as I watched Lina start handing out drinks. I could feel Leonid’s gaze on me, could envision the bastard smirking, as if he’d just found a chink in my carefully placed armor.
She hadn’t noticed me yet as she walked around. The men eyed her like she was a piece of meat, slipping her money, leaning forward and whispering things that made her blush but also had her eyes narrowing.
She set a drink beside an old fuck, his smile wide and lewd as he ignored the half-naked woman on his lap, her breasts close enough to his mouth he could have licked them. He held out a fifty-dollar bill, a wink being added to the mix, and when she took it with a soft smile, I could see his other hand snaking out like he planned on palming her ass.
I curled my hand so tight into a fist that my nails dug into my flesh, opening up the skin, the pain feeling good. She stepped out of the way before he could touch her. The lucky bastard had just missed me mangling the appendage for daring to put his filthy fucking hands on her.
But I should fuck him up just for thinking he could touch Lina.
She fluttered around the room like a delicate hummingbird, and the entire time, all male eyes were latched on to her, as if they could smell the innocence pouring off Lina and wanted to destroy it. I understood perfectly why Leonid had picked this room for her. These men were the most powerful, the wealthiest… the ones who would pay a small fortune if a woman’s virginity was up for auction.
This was also the only room Leonid came to.
I forced myself to look at him, seeing he already had a calculating expression on his face as he watched me. He saw too much, knew too much just by my reaction. And it didn’t matter how much I tried—and would fail—to hide what I felt toward Lina. The fucker saw all. A man didn’t become Pakhan if he didn’t know how to manipulate and control… if he couldn't look at someone and see their whole story flash in front of his eyes.
And then he broke the stare and looked to the side. I followed his line of vision and watched Lina move up to the overly drunken man who stood in the corner, the one who was too handsy with the girls. The one I knew was a violent drunk just by how he carried himself. I didn’t know him, but if he was in this room, he was either very powerful or was closely connected to Leonid.
I didn’t miss how she eyed the drunk almost warily, her instincts telling her he wasn’t a good man. He was dangerous. She handed him his glass of liquor. His eyes were hooded and glossy as he stared down at her. He was a big asshole, broad shoulders and tall. Barely any neck. He had a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead, his red-rimmed eyes zeroing in on Lina, taking in her white dress, tracing the few strands of wispy hair that framed her face.
I could imagine the scent of alcohol that came through his pores. I felt Leonid look back at me, but I couldn’t take my focus off the scene in front of me. Everything else faded even more until I had tunnel vision, until everything slowed. The bastard set his drink down, and just as Lina turned to leave, he wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her forcibly back toward him so hard the tray she carried tipped out of her hands and fell to the floor, the glass that had sat atop it hitting the ground, the cup breaking and mixing with the spilled liquor.
I saw red as he slowly slid his hands up, his fingers right under her breasts. She pulled away forcibly enough that she stumbled a step forward. And then he groped her ass. I didn’t realize I had been moving until I was right in front of him. He turned his attention to me, his dark, thick eyebrows pulling low, as if he were fucking pissed I’d dared to interrupt what he was doing.
His mouth was moving, and I could assume he was asking me what the fuck I wanted, maybe threatening to kill me. Without taking my gaze off him, I reached out and pulled Lina away from him, could feel her looking at me, could’ve assumed her eyes were wide and an expression of shock covered her face.
The fucker’s mouth was still moving, faster now, his anger coating his face in a red hue, his eyes narrowing, a vein popping out in his forehead from his rage.
I was aware of words spilling from my mouth and directed toward Lina. Words that would have been close to “Stay close to me. Everything will be okay.” But my mind was too hazy with anger and possessiveness to grasp any kind of sanity right now or to make sure I’d even said the words out loud.
And then I felt a heavy weight in my hand—one of the decorative granite balls that sat on a few of the tables, the design reminiscent of the detailed work on Fabergé eggs.
I felt this low-level hum fill me as everything else blurred. I slammed the granite ball against the side of the fucker’s head, and when he stumbled back, blood making a trail down his temple from the crack to his skull, I grabbed his wrist, slammed it against the wall, and twisted his arm so his palm was flush with the golden-threaded damask wallpaper. I brought the stone down on the center of his hand so hard I could hear the crack of bone splintering under the force and pushing through the buzz in my head. I slammed it on his hand again and again until all I saw was blood and broken bone, until all I tasted was the coppery tang coating my tongue, until I felt the warmth on my neck and covering my hands.
His mouth was wide, and I could imagine he was screaming right now, but I only heard the rush in my ears. I felt people closing in, but no one touched me, no one stopped me.
I let go of his hand, and he went to grab it with his uninjured one, maybe to cradle the gnarled appendage to his chest. I stopped him by grabbing his thick wrist and proceeded to do the same to that one, using so much force the bone became nothing but splinters and powder.
I let go of him and took a step back, letting the granite ball fall from my grasp. I felt the vibrations travel from my feet up my legs from the impact of it hitting the floor. The bastard fell to his knees and kept his arms close to his chest, his hands unrecognizable for how badly I’d destroyed them.
Now the fucker couldn’t touch any female.
He can’t touch what’s mine.
I found myself looking at Lina, that powerful, heady buzz moving through my body, a high I always felt when the violence took over. She stood beside me with shock reflected on her face. Eyes huge, more white than blue and black. Pink lips parted. Skin so pale she looked like a porcelain doll.
I reached out and smoothed my thumb along her cheek, wiping away the splatter of blood that marred her perfect skin after I broke the fucker’s hands. For her. That blood smeared along her cheek, like a beautifully violent stroke of a brush.
I hadn’t admitted it before, hadn’t let it really grow inside me until this very moment, but as I stared into Lina’s horrified eyes, I knew without a doubt I’d burn Desolation—the entire fucking world—if it meant having her as mine.
Because I’d never let her go, and the look in her eyes told me she realized it too.
11
Galina
“Dasvidaniya.”