28. Emil #2
His words claw under my skin like bugs, sending me forward again. I punch the bastard, chaos exploding when my other men arrive at the scene, shoving me away from the guard.
I shoulder them off.
“Being pinned down by your own men is a new low,” chuckles Luka, stepping up into the container. Shadows curl around him, a knife fixated in his trembling hand. The sharp blade glints silver in the faded lights, capturing my full attention.
Dread weighs down on me, pressing me closer to the earth. I have never won over this feeling before. It takes me as its prisoner every time, and while I learn to escape, building myself back up, returning stronger, I can never be truly free.
My muscles cease up. Breathing hurts. Taking one step forward feels like an impossible task.
I focus on the knife in Luka’s hand, the glinting silver turning into a carousel of images, my sister smiling up at me like I’m her inspiration; the adornment in Fia’s eyes during the charity fundraiser, like I meant something to her.
The memories finish with me locking eyes with Luka.
“Surprisingly,” he begins, “Fia was very compliant. She followed me without a fuss.” He narrows his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching. “She still wanted to save Chloe, even though her friend went behind her back, teaming up with me.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because nobody likes you, Emil.”
“You think I give a fuck?”
“To an extent, yes. Think about it. Everyone you have ever loved has left you,” says Luka, folding his arms over his chest.
The hard expression written across his face suggests concern, but everything has been manipulated. Nothing was ever fucking real to begin with, simply because happiness was never meant to stick.
“We could rule the world, you me and Alexander,” says Luka, pouting in sadness, almost like he’s grieving a dream. “We still can rule the world, if you open your eyes and see how much power the three of us possess."
“Power doesn’t come from hiding in the shadows, my friend.”
“You’re wrong,” says Luka. “Power is in the hands of those who are behind the scenes, unsuspected. We could join forces with Alexander, dominate both the United States and Canada. Everybody in the underground will have us to answer to. As powerful influences, we’ll be able to access the best weapons, the best politicians, girls… ”
I grind my jaw, restraining myself from lashing out, needing to hear Luka out. He’s finally revealing the mask, exposing his true intentions. I want all cards laid out on the table before I kill him, making his death all the more satisfying
“You might think you want Fia, but you’re unable to separate your head from your cock. Do yourself a favor and fuck a new girl. Pussy is all the same, a man’s biggest distraction. Women were brought onto this world to test men. Only the strongest resist temptation and survive.”
Anger coils through me. He’s invalidating not only my wife’s life, but other important females in my life, like my sister, my mother.
Perhaps he has a point. Me being unable to protect the females in my life could be God's way of speaking to me, guiding me down the path that was always meant for me. I kill innocent people by trying to be someone I’m not.
I curl my hands into fists, electricity on the brink of exploding. Registering my innate nature doesn’t mean I should join forces with Luka and Alexander. Both have been feeding off me like vampires for years, hiding in the shadows, using my power to build their own.
I burst into laughter, shaking my head.
“Hilarious, I’m sure,” comments Luka, watching me from the other side of the container.
A sharp gasp diverts all our attention to Fia. Her eyes snap open, circling around the room as she works out her surroundings. Sweat breaks out on her brow, coating her face, painting her in an ethereal light that only increases the anger boiling inside of me.
Her eyes find mine, lines forming between her brows as she figures me out. Her lips remain closed, her cheeks pale, devoid of that pinkish hue I love.
Fia goes to stand but the straps doubled around her arms keep her glued to the chair. She analyzes her arms, each one stapled to the chair.
The lines between her brow ease when she glances at me again. In a room full of men, I’m the only one she trusts. I ignore the fuzziness in my heart, along with the hope budding on her face, and do what needs to be done.
I take a dive at Luka, throwing him up against the shipping container.
The foul look in his eye encourages me to look away.
Killing enemies, spilling blood has always been a breeze, but looking someone square in the eye who I have always considered a friend, damages the soul, releasing despair into my body.
But one look at Fia restores faith, giving me a purpose.
I shove Luka into the container wall again, turning grief into strength, punching the mudak straight in the face. He handles the punch poorly, collapsing into the metal wall, defeated for a few seconds, needing time to lick his wounds.
But time is of the fucking essence. I go straight in with a second punch, blood slashing across my face. My knuckles drip with my blood. I wipe my hands clean on his shirt before flexing my hands, cracking my knuckles, ready to go again.
“Your face is much more tolerable to look at now.”
“Sure,” spits Luka, blood dripping down one side of his mouth. “While that might be the case, Alexander and I are the only sense of belonging you have in the world. Killing us will send you down a very dark path of loneliness."
“Nothing you can say will make me want to save your life.” I slam Luka into the wall, the metal wall concaving from the force.
“Look out!” screams Fia.
I can only roll my eyes when I see Alexander step into the container. The smug smile written across his face won’t last long.
“You should listen to your friend,” says Alexander, the smile cutting deeper into his face. “You can join us, or you can spend the rest of your life in misery.”
My life will cease to exist after today. Alexander is wasting his last few moments being a pain in my ass. His spirit will regret that after I kill him, forever haunted with failure. Too much talking, not enough action, is why Alexander is only having a taste of power now this late into his life.
“The problem with you, Emil, is that you’re always searching high and low for someone else to blame,” says Alexander.
“Take a look at your dear wife,” he gestures to her, “and see for yourself how much damage you have caused. Your lifestyle is to blame for those bruises and cuts. And those two delicate lines between her brow,” Alexander states, ghosting her forehead, “will never disappear, so long as Fia continues to be a part of your world. Leading a Bratva while being in love is like trying to lose weight by only eating sugar. Cut the sugar out, and then you might step into your true power. But indulging in the sugar while exercising never gets you far. Real sacrifice must be made. Luka and I both know what you’re made of. ”
I slam the old man into the container wall next to his friend, but the smile crawling across Alexander’s face leaves my fist poised midair.
“You know better than to ruin your own kind,” teases Alexander.
“You ran over my fucking wife.”
“For good reason,” chips in Luka.
“She outsmarted you.”
“Yes,” says Luka. “And her death would put a stop to your theatrics. You needed to feel heartbreak, the pain ammunition for you to get back on track. Instead, Fia survived and you went the opposite way, doing everything in your power to save your marriage.” Luka sticks a finger into his mouth, whistling, propelling the guard forward—the one who beat up Fia.
He flashes me a grave look, standing beside Fia.
“You have been given too many fucking chances, Emil,” continues Luka. “But Alexander and I are feeling generous, so we would like to give you one more.” Luka flicks his gaze to the guard. “Kill her.”
I flash the guard a challenging look, reminding him who he works for, who he answers to. But the guard looks at me expressionless, like I’m just another person on the sidewalk, a blank face, a two dimensional being who is no longer of any value.
I’ll show him value.
I take one step forward and thrust my knife straight into his stomach, blood squirting in every direction.
It splats across Fia, some reaching her baby bump. Acknowledging the twins propels me forward, my vision tainted red. Fueled on pure rage, I shove the blade back into his stomach, repeating the movement, flesh tearing, intestines spilling out of the gaping wound.
My guard falls back into the container wall, choking on his own blood. I pinch his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes as he passes. He failed me, but above all else, he failed himself.
“There he is,” says Luka to Alexander. “The monster has awoken. I knew he was always inside, waiting to be let through.” The wicked smile stretching across Alexander’s face captures my attention.
After watching the guard pass away, witnessing the moment his spirit vacates his body, I focus my attention on Alexander.
“You have something to say,” I grunt, pinning Alexander a glare. “Say it.”
Alexander chuckles, looking straight past me, focusing on Fia instead. “Tell me, sweetheart, how did you find out about your husband’s Bratva in the first place?”
Fia pinches her eyes, looking straight at Alexander without fear. My little spitfire never disappoints, the hatred surging through her body leaving no space for fear. “It landed on my desk. Why?”
“And you never questioned the client?” Alexander glances at her pointedly, the smile growing on his face. “I can always trust you to do a good job, Fia, so engrossed in the facts, never stopping to think about the rest of it.”
“You planted the document there,” she states, realization drawing her eyes further apart.