Chapter 14 – Elijah
14
ELIJAH
S ometimes, being Pakhan was hard. The thing is, it’s filled with crap and administrative shit. Having to engage in conversation to explain stupid things to stupid people when you’d rather just punch them to death was exhausting.
Today was no exception.
We had to discuss the new procedures we’re implementing for shipments around the city. Things have been running smoothly for the Zennites. A few of our men were present, and Niko joined after his session with Zanae.
He looked thoughtful when I asked him if she was doing well.
Speaking of my pretty Zanae, she strides in, uninvited, disrupting the hushed conversations we were having.
What a fucking surprise.
My gaze hardened, but a subtle smirk betrayed the amusement sparked by her audacity and boldness. This girl was crazy for coming here; I could kill her for that.
In fact, I would kill anyone for less than that.
Addictions are hard to get rid of, they said, and they were never more right.
She just takes a seat, looking furious. “Volkov. Sending me a babysitter now? You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point.”
“Hello to you too. It’s just a precaution.”
Her pretty amber eyes narrow with fury, the droplets of gold in them mirroring the fire and heat emanating from her soul.
“Precaution? I don’t need your damn precautions. Keep your fucking dogs away from me.”
Niko observed us silently from his position against the wall. He just smiled at her, like a proud father.
My men however exchanged curious glances, questioning why a woman is here and why she is this insolent with their boss.
One of them, Dimitri, says, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Shut up. We’re not dogs.”
Oh.
“Watch your mouth, Dimitri. Disrespect her again, and you’ll lose more than just your tongue.”
The room falls into a cold silence.
Not Zanae. She was unfazed by the threat; and just turned toward Dimitri with a fake smile. “‘Respect’, darling. It’s a shame it doesn’t come with that expensive ugly suit you’ve got on.”
I look at her grinning, fucking diverted by the way she carries herself with so much confidence.
Dimitri’s mouth opens, as if he’s about to respond, but I snap, my eyes boring into him, “Last warning. Open your mouth again and I’ll fill it with bullets.”
He swallows hard, regret and fear etched across his face.
Now openly amused, I address the matter at hand for this meeting. “Now, Niko, about the shipment?—”
The principal cause of my regular headaches interrupts again, slamming her hand on the table in front of me, her face so close I could smell the vanilla of her perfume. Exquisite .
“No, Elijah. We’re not moving on until you explain why you’re so hell-bent on controlling every fucking aspect of my life.”
What she doesn’t know is that control is just the beginning. It’s beyond that. I want her to be an extension of myself. I want to embed my essence in every fucking fiber of her being, to own any sense of self she has outside of me.
But she doesn’t know that.
“Control? Zanae, you overestimate your importance. And don’t ever do that again, or I may cut those pretty hands of yours.”
In fact, she’s important, so fucking important it’s killing me.
She was angry, furious, I fucking loved it, seeing her burning like this. “I don’t need your men, Elijah. I can freaking take care of myself.”
I can’t look away from her, seeing brown everywhere again, not red, nor black, only fucking brown.
“Then prove it. The bodyguard is a gift. Kill him if you want.”
She scoffs, standing up, her hands on her hips.
I couldn’t even hide my attraction at this point; she was looking adorable in this state, not even a bit scary. “I don’t want anything from you. I want you out of my business, Volkov.”
I gesture to the door and say, “Get yourself home. I’ll be there tonight.”
“Fucking psycho,” she mutters, before heading toward the exit.
While the door closes on her, Niko bursts into laughter, “I like her.”
And I’m obsessed with her.
Leaning back, I look at him, amused and intrigued even more than before. “She’s interesting.”
The day of the mission arrives, I’m waiting to get there. Wasn’t really supposed to be there, but who am I kidding? I dropped everything just to keep an eye on her tonight.
I avoided her all week after our conversation in the kitchen and that little scene at the office. God, I was so close to losing it. I wanted nothing more than to fuck all the pent-up rage and frustration she stirs in me.
But I held back. Barely.
Her pale skin was so translucent I could see the blood running through her delicate veins, vibrant red. Her body screamed for me to bruise it, and I bet the imprint of my hand would make the perfect mark.
The way she batted her eyelashes at me in the kitchen that night—I could have fallen to my knees if she asked me. And I know she wanted me to succumb, she needed me to give in that attraction between us that defies any logic.
Those amber eyes, hypnotic, mirrored that blasphemous fire that burned under my skin so delightfully. Reminding me of my true nature. Evil, draped in some suits, reflecting the darkness of the forbidden. Her .
I have a weird obsession with the way her face expresses her emotions. She’s the one usually reading people like a book, but lately, it’s me analyzing every little twitch and flicker in her expressions.
I still see fucking brown every time and everywhere, during the sunset, the sunrise, while driving, even when I work. Even a glass of whisky brings flashes of this fucking color. And it’s pissing me the fuck off.
I grew up hating everything related to her family, to the whole world, but somehow, I found myself obsessing over her every move.
She never left my mind. Never.
Initially, I couldn’t be there in person to see her every time, but I had eyes on her everywhere she went.
Then, one day, when she just turned 19, I came face to face with her, those damn siren eyes etched in my memory, when I’ve done everything to forget them. And from that moment on I couldn’t stop. She was indeed attracting every fiber of my being, but it wasn’t just her look, it was everything else that dragged me to her.
She wasn’t scared of me.
I arrived at the venue and spotted her almost immediately. I remained silent; my gaze locked on her. She’s stunning. Forbidden, but knowing the life of sins I chose to live, I’ll gladly succumb.
I need to focus.
I can’t let go.
No matter how much I may crave her.
One thing I’ve noticed about her is the way she absent-mindedly caresses her neck when she’s lost in her own mind. I’ve caught her doing it countless times, especially on some nights, when she just spent hours gazing out from the balcony. I once caught her in a trance for a good twenty minutes, completely unaware that I was there until I dropped a glass on the ground.
When she snapped out of it, she seemed shaken, like she just realized that she’d been lost in her mind for far too long.
And the craziest part?
I watched her for those twenty minutes, analyzing the way her chest would rise and down, her fingers caressing her own arm like she was comforting herself.
Only, whenever she does it, her flames disappear from her honey eyes. Her gaze is empty, lifeless.
I know that gaze. I’ve seen it far too many times.
It’s death. And my Little Nightmare couldn’t die.
What the hell is going on inside your head, Zanae?