Chapter 18
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Maksim
The basement is eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Where are the children they brought in?
The sound of my footsteps echoes through the space, the only noise breaking the silence. Just as I’m about to turn back, a light flickers on in the corner of the room, and Aleksandr steps forward, his sinister smile cutting through the darkness.
Something feels wrong.
“I told him you’ve been given too much freedom,” he says casually, his tone sharp enough to make me stop in my tracks.
I glance at him, trying to piece together his words while my mind races toward Vera. Thank God I told her to head toward the river. If she had come with me and this idiot caught her here, it would’ve been chaos with Ivan.
“I don’t have time for your nonsense,” I snap, turning toward the stairs. But before I can take a step, his laughter rings out behind me.
“I can’t wait to see how long your precious Vera lasts…an hour? Less? How many men do you think can have her in thirty minutes? If we hurry, maybe she’ll still be conscious.”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.
“What did you do?” I demand, my voice low and dangerous as I pull the pistol from behind my waistband and aim it at him.
“Me? Nothing,” he says smugly. “But Ivan? Danil? Boris? I’ll let you figure it out.”
My thoughts spiral as I try to determine whether he’s lying or telling the truth.
“Did you really think no one would figure out your plans?” Aleksandr sneers. “These walls have ears, idiot.”
I never spoke about our escape plans in public or anywhere near others, but then it clicks.
He bugged my room.
“And now,” Aleksandr continues mockingly, “if you’d be so kind, Ivan is waiting for us in his office.”
Without another word, I lower the pistol and climb the stairs, with Aleksandr trailing behind me. My mind races with one thought: How do I get her out of this?
Akim can’t help me this time, but there has to be a way. I’ll offer to take her punishment myself, if that’s what it takes. Pain doesn’t matter; I’ve endured worse before.
My breathing grows heavier as we approach Ivan’s office door, but when I step inside and see Vera huddled in a corner, her eyes red and swollen, blood streaking down her legs, I forget how to breathe altogether.
“What did you do to her?” I shout, pulling my gun again and pointing it at Ivan.
Immediately, three soldiers in the room draw their weapons and aim them at me. My finger tightens on the trigger as I brace for them to fire, but at a simple gesture from Ivan, they lower their guns, and I lower mine in compliance.
“I did what should have been done long ago,” Ivan says coldly. “I gave too much freedom to a toy that started getting ideas. Do you think I don’t know she’s been sneaking medicine and food to the children? How stupid do you think I am, son?”
I want to scream that I’m not his son—that I could never be after everything he’s done to me: the nights he abused me without mercy while ignoring my pleas and tears, the endless punishments because they fueled him, the way he taught me to cut deeply and precisely.
But instead, I swallow my rage because Vera needs me now more than ever.
“I’ll take her punishment,” I say firmly, forcing strength into my voice.
Ivan’s lips curl into a cruel smile as he nods slowly. “You will,” he says darkly. “But I’ll give you a choice: either you pull the trigger or every soldier within range of this house will do what Boris did to her.”
It feels like he’s driven a dagger straight into my heart; nothing could hurt worse than this moment.
I can’t do it. I can’t be the one who ends her life.
My gaze shifts to Vera, and that’s where I make my mistake…because her eyes are empty now. The light that once burned there is gone. She looks at me and nods slightly, and I know what she wants. She wants me to pull that trigger and end this.
Aleksandr chuckles behind me as if enjoying every second of this torment.
“I need a minute alone with her,” I say sharply, my tone leaving no room for argument.
For the first time since entering this house of horrors, something flickers in Ivan’s eyes, a hint of pride maybe, and he gestures for everyone to leave.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, I rush to Vera’s side and cradle her face in my hands.
“Vera,” I whisper urgently, “I’ll get you out of here. Akim and I will figure something out—”
“You’ll take that gun,” she interrupts flatly, “and free me in the only way you can.”
Her voice is devoid of emotion, but her words cut deeper than anything Ivan could ever say.
I stare into her eyes desperately, trying to understand how she could ask this of me—how she expects me to end her life.
“I won’t survive if you don’t,” she murmurs softly. “If anyone touches me again… Maksim…” Her voice breaks into a sound so full of despair it nearly shatters me.
I can’t imagine a world without her, a tomorrow where she doesn’t exist on this earth, and she knows it without needing an explanation from me.
She takes the pistol from my hand and places it against her temple before positioning my hand over hers.
I shake my head as tears stream down my face because reality crashes down on me like an unbearable weight. I can’t lose her.
“If by some miracle I would survive after they’re done with me,” she whispers brokenly, “there wouldn’t be anything left inside.”
I want to tell her she’s stronger than this, that she can endure anything, that she has to endure for me. Because without her…I have no one left.
“You’ll find someone someday,” she whispers faintly through trembling lips, “someone who would choose hell here with you over heaven anywhere else.”
A bitter laugh escapes me because no one will ever choose me. They’ll all leave, they’ll all find freedom, and I’ll stay behind in their shadows.
“When the time is right, take his heart out for me,” Vera whispers as her nose brushes mine gently. Her bottom lip trembles as tears pool in her bloodshot eyes.
My head shakes again because, no matter what happens, I can’t do this to her. Not her. Never her.
She takes a deep breath before whispering, “I love—”
Before she can finish those words that would break what little resolve remains in me, I pull the trigger.
I couldn’t let her say it because if she had…there would’ve been no way for me to grant her wish. No way for me to let go when all I wanted was for her to stay alive, even if what followed wouldn’t truly be life for her anymore.
Her body slumps sideways into my arms as warmth leaves her skin slowly but surely. My hands tremble as they trace every freckle, every scar, every delicate line on her face, trying desperately to memorize them all because I took them away forever.
I failed her. We should’ve left sooner, we should’ve found another way, but now…now it’s too late.
I don’t know how many minutes pass, but eventually, I hear the door open and footsteps behind me. Their breathing is heavy, and then someone starts clapping. Of course they do. That’s what these people are, monsters who applaud pain and death.
I look at her face one last time, and whatever was left of my heart shatters into pieces.
Without a second thought, I grab the knife from the back of my jeans and turn to face Ivan, Aleksandr, and the three men who stood by and watched her suffer.
Boris is first on my list, the one who touched her, the one who stole the light from her eyes.
He sees me coming but isn’t quick enough to react. The blade plunges into his stomach, and I drag it diagonally across his abdomen. Within seconds, his intestines spill onto the floor.
“Look me in the eyes while you bleed out like a pig,” I growl, my voice unrecognizable, hardened and foreign, even to me.
I guess this is what happens when you lose your soul.
The second man doesn’t even have a name worth remembering. He shakes his head as if pleading for mercy, glancing desperately at Ivan for help. But Ivan does nothing, he just watches.
The same bloodied knife finds its mark in the soldier’s gut. Unlike Boris, I grant him a sliver of mercy as I twist the blade once, just enough to ensure his stomach won’t function for much longer.
Her empty eyes flash in my mind again, along with the sound of her voice breaking under the weight of her suffering.
The third man doesn’t even get a chance to fight back before I shove him to the ground and wrap my hands around his throat.
He struggles, his hands pushing against me, but I don’t care that he outweighs me by at least thirty pounds.
Something stronger drives me now, the need to see the life drain from his eyes.
My grip tightens until his lips turn blue.
“What a performance,” Aleksandr taunts from the corner of the room, clapping slowly as if this is all some twisted game to him.
I don’t doubt for a second that he had a hand in orchestrating this nightmare. One day, he’ll pay for it, tenfold. I swear, Vera.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Maksim,” Ivan snaps as he settles into his chair at the desk.
Rage boils inside me so fiercely that I almost hurl the knife straight into his skull—but no. That would be too easy for him. He deserves hours of agony, pure and unrelenting pain. He deserves to look into the eyes of every victim he’s destroyed as he takes his final breath.
Before leaving the room, I hurl the knife across the space and it lands perfectly in the stack of papers on Ivan’s desk. His head jerks up slightly, startled.
“The next time you touch something that’s mine,” I say coldly, “that knife will find its way into the organ that ties us together…Father.”
The word burns like acid on my tongue, but I don’t care if he sees it in my eyes, that something inside me has snapped beyond repair. He lowers his head slightly without a word.
Aleksandr watches our exchange closely, but when I take a step toward him, he instinctively backs away.
“And you,” I say darkly, my voice laced with venom, “one day we’ll settle this, and there’s only one payment I’ll accept: blood.”
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The memory fades as I jolt awake, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It’s always the same reaction, the same nightmare replaying over and over again.
Julia stirs beside me at the sudden movement. Without thinking, my hands find her face as I cup her cheeks gently and study her features, counting every freckle, every line around her mouth and nose.
I know today’s events have triggered everything that happened with Vera again, every wound left by that memory feels ripped open, but when I look into Julia’s eyes…they’re not empty like Vera’s were. They shine with life and a fierce hunger for freedom.
I have to make sure she never loses that light.
“Max?” Julia’s voice is soft and sleepy but tinged with concern.
I don’t respond; instead, I lie back down beside her while keeping hold of her hand.
She’s here. She’s safe, for now, but there’s a voice in my head whispering that this is Vera sending me a warning: today was too fucking close.
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