Chapter 21 #3
Felix was grunting against the gag, writhing like the rat he was, dragging himself inch by pathetic inch toward the door—even with the knife still lodged in his shoulder.
I glanced at him, and said with a cold smile, “Don’t squirm too much. I hate it when my toys wear themselves out before I’m ready.”
I pulled on my pants, digging through the pocket until I found my phone. The screen lit up—2:37 AM. Fucking late. But I didn’t care.
I dialed.
He picked up after two rings. “Reaper? It’s late. What’s up?”
“Got a situation,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “And I need you in.”
There was a beat of silence. “You need me at two-thirty in the morning? How many did you kill?”
“For now, just one. The other is tied up.”
“Fuck’s sake, Maksym.”
“I need you to come to Fairmont Grand Hotel. Eighth floor. Room 8113.”
More silence.
“Seriously?”
“And grab some of your wife’s clothes. Something soft. Comfortable. And a pair of shoes. She’s tiny—hopefully they’ll fit.”
Another beat. Then, dry as hell, “Are you kidnapping women now or rescuing them?”
“Both.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Fine. I’ll sneak into my wife’s closet like a fucking thief. Anything else, princess?”
“Yeah. Bring cigarettes. I’m out.”
“You kill a man, fuck a girl, tie another guy up, and now you want a smoke?”
“I’m having a long night.”
“You always have a long night.”
“Come quick.”
“Coming. And if I get caught stealing panties, I’m blaming you.”
I hung up, smirking.
Then I looked at her.
She was lying on her stomach, legs spread lazily, hair a mess around her shoulders, completely naked—completely unbothered.
The sheet half-draped across one thigh, ass still flushed from where I’d held her.
She didn’t glance at the corpse near the door.
Didn’t flinch at the sight of bloody Felix bound and gagged.
She just lay there, arms folded under her cheek, watching me with those wicked eyes like she was already dreaming of round two.
And fuck me if it didn’t hit like a punch to the chest.
This was my woman.
Not because I said so. Not because I fucked her. But because the scene around her was insane—blood, violence, the kind of chaos that would send most people running—and she looked like she belonged in it. Like she was born in it. Like she chose it. Chose me.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and shook my head, still smiling.
Ridiculous.
Perfect.
Mine.
I climbed back onto the bed, crawling up her body like a predator returning to his prize. She shifted, still grinning against the mattress. I lowered myself over her, kissed her bare shoulder, then trailed my lips down her spine, across her waist, the curve of her back, her hip.
“You’re fucking unreal,” I whispered, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. “I don’t think you even know what you do to me.”
We lay there for a few more minutes, tangled in silence and body heat.
“Wait—my phone,” she blinked, sitting up. “That asshole still has it.”
I grunted, pushed off the bed, and stalked over to him. I searched his jacket and fished it out. He didn’t even move. Funny how pain makes a man cooperative.
“Here. Still warm from his pocket.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Gross. But thanks. Sort of.”
Then there was a knock at the door.
I immediately pulled the sheet over her, shielding her bare skin. One look through the peephole confirmed it—Sashko.
I opened the door.
He stepped in holding a bag, looked around once, and froze.
“Holy shit.”
His gaze ping-ponged between the tied-up Felix, the cooling corpse by the door, and Kira—who was now sitting up with the sheet clutched to her chest, cheeks flushed, eyes sharp.
“So let me get this straight,” Sashko muttered, tone sharp. “You didn’t just fuck Pakhan’s daughter—you also tied up and stabbed her fiancé. Who, by the way, happens to be the son of one of the most powerful criminals alive. Are you trying to get us killed?”
I closed the door behind him. “Well, technically she did the stabbing. And no, we’re not gonna die.”
His stare stayed locked on me. “Okay, genius. What’s your plan to keep us breathing?”
“I’ll end him before he can say a word.”
Felix started thrashing harder at that, gagging against the tie, feet kicking against the carpet.
I sighed and walked over. “Shut the fuck up.” Then I slammed my fist into his temple, knocking him out cold.
Sashko raised an eyebrow. “Subtle.”
I took the bag from him and handed it to Kira. “Here. Go get dressed.”
She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself and padded toward the bathroom without a word.
The door was completely smashed—she wouldn’t be able to close it if she tried.
Not that it mattered. Neither I nor Sashko would so much as glance in her direction.
I could only imagine the way it had been shattered—Felix, kicking it open while she tried to hide, terrified and alone.
The image clawed at my insides, rage flickering hot beneath my skin.
But I forced it down. Revenge was coming. Almost here.
I turned back to Sashko.
“I need your help moving the bodies.”
“Both?”
“Yeah. But we’ll start with him,” I said, nodding toward Felix.
“And you’re planning to carry two unconscious men through a luxury hotel without anyone noticing?”
“I was thinking we pretend they’re just drunk. You know, after a long party.”
Sashko made a face. “It’s either that or chop them up here, I guess.”
I shrugged. “If you feel like getting messy, I don’t mind.”
He waved a hand. “No, no. Your idea’s better. Less work. For me at least.”
I kept Kira in the room—no fucking way I’d leave her alone with Felix, even unconscious.
We moved quickly, Felix limp between us. I’d left the knife buried in his shoulder on purpose—remove it and he’d bleed out too fast. The metal sealed more than it wounded. He just had to stay alive—for now.
Near the door, I crouched and unfastened the belts at his ankles and wrists. Carrying him bound would’ve drawn attention I didn’t need. I slung a towel over his shoulders to conceal the blade. The fewer witnesses, the better.
We hauled him through the hallway, each of us gripping an arm while his feet dragged uselessly behind him—right as we started playing our part.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, letting out a short laugh. “Look at him. I swear this is the last time I’m hauling this pathetic drunk out of somewhere.”
Sashko barked a laugh. “You said that last time. And the time before that.”
“Yeah, well maybe this time he’ll choke on his own puke and save us the trouble,” I said.
Sashko shifted Felix’s arm higher on his shoulder and looked down at him with open disgust. “Guy drinks half a bottle, starts a fight he can’t finish, then pisses himself like a damn toddler.”
I snorted. “Half a bottle? Don’t flatter him. This idiot was wobbling after two glasses.”
“True,” Sashko said. “Honestly I’m amazed he even managed to throw a punch before collapsing like this.”
“You call that a punch?” I said, glancing down at Felix’s limp body. “My grandmother hits harder than that.”
The few hotel workers we passed barely looked up. Either they’d seen worse on a Friday night, or they knew better than to get involved. Maybe both.
We dropped him onto the back seat and went to get the other one.
We lifted him together—one arm over each shoulder like we were helping a drunk buddy home from the bar.
“Damn, bro,” Sashko grunted, adjusting his grip. “Tell me you didn’t screw her with the guy still breathing in the corner.”
“I could lie.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll just pretend you said no.”
We paused to adjust the body again. I nearly dropped the bastard when his head lolled back against my shoulder like a watermelon.
Sashko said, “So… you and Kira. Serious?”
I snorted. “Define serious.”
“Like ‘you fucked the boss’s daughter, assaulted her fiancé, and now I’m your accomplice in a late-night body dump’ kind of serious.”
I grinned. “Then yeah. Serious.”
“You’re insane.”
I smirked. “You promised me war, brother. I’m just holding you to it.”
“You start wars with your dick, you know that, right?”
I chuckled. “And I always finish them the same way—” I gave the body one last shove into the trunk, slammed it shut, “—with a bang.”
We headed back upstairs. I knocked once before unlocking the door.
Kira stepped out of the bathroom wearing tight jeans and a black hoodie, but even in plain clothes, she looked so fucking beautiful it made my chest ache.
I couldn’t help it—I crossed the room to her, cupped her cheek, and kissed her slow.
“Sashko will drive you home,” I murmured against her lips. “I’ve gotta clean up the rest of the mess.”
She smiled, soft and sweet. “I thought tonight would suck. Turns out, it was kind of unforgettable.”
“All part of the romantic package,” I said, deadpan.
She leaned in and kissed me again, her fingers curling in my shirt. “Thank you. For saving me.”
I brushed my thumb along her jaw. “Someone has to keep you alive.”
She giggled. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
I nodded.
She took a small step back, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. “Okay,” she whispered. “Go do your thing.”
Sashko opened the door, muttering under his breath. “Alright, princess,” he said to Kira. “Come on. I want to get back to sleep sometime before sunrise.”
She rolled her eyes but gave me one last glance over her shoulder as she followed him out. I caught that look.
And fuck, it did something to me.
The moment the door clicked shut behind them, my smile vanished.
Time to clean up the rest of the night.