29. Mila
29
MILA
N ikita likes me in black.
He always has. He says it makes me look sexy, sophisticated, alluring. I’ve dyed my hair since I was seventeen to match the dark image he prefers of me.
So as I stand wearing a white dress with my hands tied behind my back in a room down the hall from the ballroom, I know he didn’t choose the outfit carelessly. He chose white because it’ll be easier to see my blood when it spills. It’ll be a stark contrast against the satin material, providing a striking view for the audience he’s gathered.
I don’t know how he’s going to kill me, only that it’ll be brutal. The white says it all.
That or it’s supposed to be some sort of wedding dress mockery. Or both.
Nikita is so fucked up.
A single guard stands next to me, holding my bound wrists. The lone guard speaks to how little of a threat they believe I am. That Nikita believes I am.
For some reason, that hurts.
Movement draws my eyes to the guard’s hand covering the mic in his ear. After a few moments, he drops it and looks at me. “ Walk .” He shoves me forward before I have a chance to obey the command. I keep my shoulders squared even as my legs feel heavy and numb.
I don’t know if Vitaly is alive or dead. That’s the worst part of this. They won’t tell me.
They won’t tell me anything . I can guess that I’m walking to my death, but I can’t know who I’m joining in the afterlife, and that feels unbearable.
Nikita is waiting for us in the hallway outside the ballroom entrance. He’s leaned against the wall with a smug look on his face I get the intense urge to claw off. My hands tug uselessly against the rope.
“Hello, Mila,” he says when we reach him, his hands tucked into his pockets. He nods at the guard who then removes his gun from his holster. I furrow my brow, thinking there’s no way my death could ever be that easy, but all the guard does is place the gun in a large bin outside the entrance before locking it up and handing Nikita the key which he slips in his pocket. The guard shoves the door to the ballroom open. Voices grow louder and then quiet as the door closes.
I turn my head to glare at Nikita. My lip twitches with a curl I try not to show just before I lift my leg to kick him in the groin, but he sees it coming. He catches my calf and yanks me into him before flipping us to flatten me against the wall, knocking the wind from me.
His knee slots between my legs, and he pins me to the wall using one arm pressed against my chest. His nose to my ear, he inhales then lets out his breath slowly and dramatically. I squirm at the feel of his breath tickling my ear.
“I’m gonna miss you, Кисa.”
I struggle against his arm. “Oh, go fuck yourself… If you’re going to kill me, kill me, but stop mocking me.”
He pulls back, his head tilted. “You don’t believe me?”
I gather saliva, but before I can spit, he covers my mouth. Shaking his head, he tsks. “You and your boyfriend both.”
Fight drains at the mention of Vitaly, and I feel my eyes widen slightly as blood drains from my face. I wait for him to go on, even if it’s just to tell me all the sick things he’s done to Vitaly. I have to know. I have to know if he’s alive.
With a sly smile, Nikita removes his hand. “I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Кисa. How can you not see that? I gave you your own room.”
My eyes narrow. “You forced me to kill my father. You ordered me to be killed. You…” I pause, taking in a shaky breath before baiting the hook. “You killed the man I love.”
His lips spread, but his grin doesn’t look cruel like usual, more like he’s amused. Like he sees right through my attempt.
“See? There were more times than you realize that I thought it’d be best if you were dead. If I’d killed you myself, we wouldn’t be here, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even watch. That proves something, doesn’t it?”
I deflate at his response. I don’t give a fuck what I mean to him. Or what he thinks I mean to him. He’s fucking certifiable. I just want him to tell me if Vitaly is alive.
“And don’t mourn your father,” he says, his face twisting with disgust. “He came to warn me about your shifting loyalty, as if I didn’t already know. I did you a favor, allowing you to be the one to kill him. I wish I could’ve been the one to kill mine.”
“I’m not you ,” I say, my breath barely above a whisper. “You’re insane . You killed your own nephew.”
He smiles at that. His shoulders lift and fall as he sighs. “Okay, Mila, I’ll throw you your bone… He isn’t dead yet, but it isn’t good news, I’m afraid.”
I flinch when Nikita pushes hair back from my face. “He’s going to have to watch you die very painfully first… I’m sorry, my love.”
“Don’t call me that,” I spit, whipping my head away from his touch. I throw daggers while my chest fills with emotion.
Vitaly isn’t dead.
He isn’t dead.
Yet.
“You were never going to love me,” I say, choking on the words. I don’t know how much pain comes from them or from my current situation bubbling over.
I expect his cruel smile. I’m amazed when I get his rare frown.
“ Mila. ” My name is a heavy sigh running across his lips. “You never wanted me to… A man was never going to make you happy. Only his crown.”
I let the weight of his words sit heavily on my shoulders, feeling the truth to them. The old truth.
That used to be true. Before I knew what love felt like. Before I knew how much sweeter it was than power.
When a sound comes from down the hall, Nikita slaps a hand over my mouth and presses hard against me, not letting a sound pass as he gets close. “And unfortunately, I’m a romantic .”
His breath is hot, the words they bring echoing inside my skull as a few men come into view. Two are guards, and the third has a bag over his head, but the tattoos on his bare chest tell me immediately that he’s Vitaly. The guards are pushing him on a platform of some kind. He’s attached to a T post by—I squint at the blood oozing from his palms—nails.
I gasp through my nose, my eyes bugging as I try to thrash against Nikita’s tight hold. Tears blur my vision as they pass by us, Vitaly barely moving like he’s already dead, and no matter how hard I try, no sound passes Nikita’s hand.
I try to bite and kick and twist, but he holds me to the wall while smirking at me like the sick motherfucker he is. The guards push Vitaly into the ballroom, leaving Nikita and I while tears spill from my eyes.
As soon as Nikita’s hand inches away, I gnash at him with my teeth, connecting with his finger for only a moment before he yanks away and moves his arm to my neck, pressing until my trachea is pinched. I suck in tiny bits of air until he cuts off my supply altogether.
He brings his finger to his lips to suck off the blood rising to the surface of the teeth marks I left on it.
“Ouch, Кисa. Bad kitty .”
I continue to struggle against him, my lungs screaming for air. Once he eases off my windpipe enough for me to get a breath, I suck in three long pulls before sneering at him.
I don’t know if my next words will hurt. I don’t know if he meant it when he said he was a romantic. Or if he’s truly holding out for a woman he loves, a woman who will love him back.
But he built a giant garden for a surrogate mother and kills every man who mentions his sister’s name. So I think it’s very possible that he’s delusional enough to believe in love.
“No one could ever love you.”
He smiles, not even slightly affected.
“There’s a reason your father didn’t,” I add, searching for a wound, something to spoil the fun he’s about to have. “You wish you could’ve killed him? I bet he wished he would’ve killed you. You’re worthless. You’re?—”
Nikita grabs my jaw and squeezes, smiling as he draws his face closer. “You’re fishing,” he singsongs. “But since we have another minute or so to kill while your boyfriend gets set up, I’ll throw you another bone. You’re right . The last thing my father said to me was that it should’ve been me who died instead of Vlad. Those were his chosen last words. How fucked up is that?”
When I open my mouth, he shoves his thumb against my lips to stop me from speaking. It’s so forceful, I can’t move my head enough to bite.
“But do you know the part that bothers me the most about it?” he asks, never taking his thumb off my lips. “I can’t get over this feeling deep down inside me that he may have been right… Vlad asked for my help the day he died, and I refused because I was a good little soldier who did everything my father told me to, and my father said to let Vitaly suffer the consequences of his actions. So I thought I did. But then my brother died, and Vitaly lived. And I became the future Pakhan who was never, ever going to be fit.”
He rubs his nose against mine. “I’m hated, my love , I know, but make no mistake… I was always going to be hated. I was always going to be the brother who should’ve remained in the background. I should’ve helped rescue my nephew that day, ironic as that is currently.” He chuckles and gestures to where they wheeled Vitaly. “Because if I had, maybe every last person I’ve ever loved wouldn’t be fucking dead right now, and maybe my father would’ve had the legacy he desired. But it didn’t work out that way, did it? And you, unfortunate as it is, picked the wrong side of the coin. So…” He looks at his watch. “I’m afraid it’s time to die.”