Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Viktor
I climbed the stairs of that crumbling apartment building, the rusted metal railing rough against my palm.
The stairwell reeked of cheap detergent mixed with years of mildew. The motion-sensor light overhead flickered, making contact poorly, buzzing irritably as it cast sickly yellow light.
I took the stairs one at a time.
I was stone-cold sober.
That was the terrifying part.
I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. My mind had never been clearer than it was right now. But that very clarity made the fire that had been burning in my chest all night rage even hotter, even more out of control.
I stopped in front of that white door. A cheap woven welcome sign hung on it.
Welcome. There probably wasn't a single place in this world that would truly welcome Viktor Ivanov.
I raised my hand and knocked.
Once. Twice. On the third knock, I practically slammed my whole palm against the door. Blood roared in my eardrums.
"Open up! Hailey! Open this goddamn door!" I growled, my voice hoarse like it had been dragged across sandpaper.
Panicked footsteps came from inside, followed by Buddy's alert barking. Seconds later, the lock clicked.
The door cracked open.
Hailey stood behind it, still wearing that oversized beige sweater she'd had on at the café. When she saw it was me standing outside, those beautiful green eyes went wide, her pupils reflecting my waterlogged, ghost-like appearance—wretched and demonic all at once.
In that instant, I caught exactly what flashed through her eyes.
Fear.
Pure, instinctive, monster-seeing fear. The same look she'd given me a month ago in that underground garage full of brain matter and blood.
That fear detonated the last thread of sanity I'd been clinging to.
I shot my hand out and shoved the door. Hailey yelped and stumbled backward. I barged straight into the cramped apartment, slamming the door behind me and locking it dead.
"Viktor?" Her voice shook, her back pressed flat against the entryway wall, hands instinctively crossed over her chest. "You—why are you here? You're soaking wet, you—"
She smelled it on me. Rain, tobacco, and that permanent stench of blood and gunpowder that never washed off.
"Have you been drinking?" she asked tremulously, eyes full of wariness.
"Drinking?"
I laughed. That laugh sounded vicious in the tight entryway.
"I'm sober enough to blow a fly's head off at two hundred yards."
I stepped forward.
"What, disappointed? Expecting someone else? That upstanding assistant DA? Your precious ex?"
Her face went white instantly.
"You followed me."
"Do I need to follow you?"
Another step. My frame boxed her completely in shadow.
"All of New York is my eyes. I spent a month crawling through corpses, dealing with scum trying to dump us in the Hudson, just so you could be safe—"
My voice broke.
"—and you go behind my back to this shithole to have coffee with the bastard who threw you away like trash?"
"Shut up!"
Her eyes reddened as she shoved hard against my chest.
"Don't you dare use your filthy words on me! I didn't go behind your back! We were over!"
Over?
That was a poisoned blade straight through my lung.
"Who said you could end it?" I grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall.
"Let go! You're hurting me!" She fought, her sweater's neckline sliding off one shoulder.
"Hurting?" I pinned her to the wall, chest heaving violently. "You know what hurt is?"
"Viktor—"
"You saw me kill someone in that garage. You found out your perfect boyfriend's a butcher. So you got scared and ran for the light, didn't you?"
"You're insane..."
She was crying. Tears slid down her cheeks and hit the back of my hand.
"I am insane." I roared, my other hand gripping her chin, forcing her to look up at me. "You think Matthew's some saint? You think because he stands in the sun he can give you a clean life? Planning to go back and play the good little prosecutor's wife?"
"You don't understand anything!"
She sobbed, hands clawing at my arm.
"You lied to me from the start! Played me like a fool! You never told me the truth!"
Truth.
"If I'd told you the truth," I said through clenched teeth, voice scraping out, "you'd never have let me within a mile of you."
"You think I don't want to be clean? I don't have a choice."
"But I never lied to you about one thing."
My forehead pressed against hers.
"I want you. Hailey. I want you."
Her breathing went ragged, but then she fought back hard, raising her knee to kick me.
"Did you ever ask what I wanted? I don't want anything to do with you! Let me go!"
Her resistance, her attempts to push me away—it was gasoline on the fire, incinerating my last shred of restraint.
"Too late." I rasped out the verdict, blue eyes churning with feral hunger and possession. "You started this. You don't get to walk away clean. Think I'm dirty? Fine. Then you're getting dirty with me."
I crushed my mouth down on hers.
This wasn't a kiss.
This was punishment. Plunder. A brutal claim of ownership.
I tasted the salt of her tears, tasted blood—I'd bitten through her lip. She made a pained whimper, hands pushing hard against my shoulders, but that resistance melted into weak, powerless trembling as our mouths tangled.
She turned her head away, crying, yet let out a fractured gasp under the extreme stimulation.
"Viktor... please... don't do this..." Her pleading fell apart, but her body softened under my touch.
I couldn't hear her anymore. I was trapped in that massive vortex of terror—the terror of her leaving me. Like a cornered animal, I could only use the most primal, savage way to confirm she was mine.
I swept her up and strode through the narrow living room, kicking the bedroom door open and throwing her hard onto the not-so-soft double bed.
She instinctively shrank back, but when my body came down on top of her, her hands—which had been pushing against my chest—grabbed my shirt instead.
"Don't do this? Your body's telling a different story, Malyshka." I grabbed that oversized sweater and tore it. The fabric ripped apart under my violence.
I yanked off my tie and bound her half-resisting wrists to the headboard. She turned her head away, humiliated tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. But when my rough fingertips traced down her bare skin, she arched involuntarily.
"Thought I was scary?" I mocked hoarsely, fingers pushing inside without mercy. "Then why are you so wet? Hm? Little liar."
"Mm... stop talking..." She bit her lip in shame, tears falling harder, but her body trembled uncontrollably under my teasing, instinctively moving with me.
I didn't give her time to adjust. With one brutal snap of my hips, I buried myself to the hilt inside her tight, soaking heat.
She screamed—a raw, broken sound that tore from her throat and echoed off the walls.
Her body clenched around me like a vice, so impossibly hot and wet but fighting the sudden invasion, and fuck, it hurt me too.
But I couldn't stop. Wouldn't. The need to claim her, to own every inch, overrode everything.
Tears poured down her flushed cheeks as she thrashed beneath me, wrists straining against my tie.
"Ah! It hurts... You bastard!" Her voice cracked, half-sob, half-fury, but even as she said it, her inner walls fluttered and pulsed around me, pulling me deeper like her body was betraying every angry word.
I growled low in my throat, pulling back only to slam in again, harder, setting a punishing rhythm that made the old bed creak violently.
"Good. Feel me, Malyshka. Every fucking inch."
My teeth sank into the curve of her neck, biting down just enough to mark without breaking skin.
She gasped, arching up into the pain, her nipples pebbled tight against my chest. I dragged my mouth lower, thrusting deep and relentless, my hips snapping against hers with wet, obscene sounds that filled the room.
Her legs twitched, trying to close, but I forced them wider with my knees, pinning her completely.
She was crying harder now, those humiliated tears mixing with the sweat on her skin, but her hips started to lift to meet my thrusts—small, involuntary rolls that told me everything her mouth wouldn't.
"I hate you... stop... please..." The words were angry, hissed between gritted teeth, yet her pussy clenched greedily around my cock on every withdrawal, coating me in more slick heat. She loved this. Loved me.
I bit a trail down her collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, my pace brutal and unyielding. Her full breasts bounced with every savage thrust, and I zeroed in on one taut peak, mouth watering. I leaned down, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, ready to bite—
Her forehead cracked against mine in a sudden, defiant headbutt. Pain exploded behind my eyes, sharp and bright, but it only fueled the beast inside me. I reared back, laughing—a dark, ragged sound laced with pure rage and lust. Blood trickled warm from a small cut on my brow, but I didn't care.
"Oh, you little hellcat," I snarled, grinning ferally.
With a rough yank, I freed her wrists just long enough to flip her fully beneath me, shoving her face-down into the pillows before tying her hands again above her head.
I covered her completely, my much larger body blanketing hers.
I drove back in with even more force, grinding deep, my chest pressed to her back.
"You're mine," I rasped hotly against her ear, biting the lobe as I pounded into her. "Mine to fuck. Mine to break. Say it, even if you hate me right now." My hand snaked under her to pinch her clit, rolling it roughly in time with my thrusts.
She bucked wildly, a muffled scream into the pillow, her ass pushing back against me despite the way she growled, "Fuck you... I don't... ahh!"
I fucked her harder, my hips slamming against her ass with bruising intensity, the angle letting me hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. "That's it, baby. Take it. Your pussy doesn't lie. She's weeping for me, pulling me in like she knows who she belongs to."