Chapter Fifteen – Nika
The cold metal cuffs bit into my wrists as I strained against them, muscles aching from hours of fruitless struggling. The dank cell reeked of mildew, its crumbling walls a silent witness to countless horrors. I refused to surrender, so my mind was racing with possibilities for escape.
Twisting my hands, I probed the cuffs for any give or weakness to exploit. The skin on my wrists grew raw and bloody, but I persisted, driven by a fierce determination to break free from this nightmare. Each tiny shift or minuscule loosening of the restraints fueled my hope.
Sweat beaded on my brow as I contorted my body, using every ounce of flexibility to manipulate the cuffs. My breath came in ragged gasps, the exertion taking its toll, but I pushed on, driven by the thought of Malachi and Rurik, of the life I yearned to reclaim—and the unsettling knowledge that Terzien would eventually return for the next round of interrogation.
Suddenly, a faint click echoed through the cell, and one cuff slipped free from my raw, bloodied wrist. I hastily worked on the remaining restraint, my fingers trembling with urgency. Another click, and I was free, stumbling to my feet, my legs wobbling from disuse. I steadied myself against the damp wall, straining to hear any signs of movement beyond the cell’s confines.
Silence reigned, save for the pounding of my heart in my ears. I crept toward the door, pressing my ear against the cool metal to listen intently for any indication of what awaited me on the other side.
A muffled shout, followed by the unmistakable staccato of gunfire, shattered the stillness. My heart leapt into my throat as I recognized the chaos of battle unfolding beyond these walls. The gunfire had to be from Malachi and Rurik, who had come for me.
I backed away from the door, my mind racing. Should I attempt to flee, risking exposure and potential harm, or wait for them to find me? The decision weighed heavily, each option fraught with peril.
Another burst of gunfire, closer this time, echoed through the corridors, spurring me into action. I couldn’t sit idly by, waiting to be rescued like a damsel in distress. I had to take control of my fate and fight for my freedom alongside the men I loved.
Steeling my resolve, I scanned the cell for anything that could serve as a weapon. My gaze fell upon a rusted pipe protruding from the wall, and I wrenched it free with a lot of effort and another layer of my skin sacrificed for the cause. When it was loose, I gripped it tightly in my trembling hands.
With a deep breath, I approached the door, pressing my ear against it once more. The sounds of combat grew louder, as if the battle raged just beyond this barrier. Summoning every ounce of courage, I stepped back and swung the pipe with all my might, striking the door’s hinges. The impact reverberated through my arms, but the door held.
I struck again and again, each blow fueled by desperation and the burning desire to reunite with Malachi and Rurik. The hinges groaned in protest, slowly yielding to my relentless assault.
With a final, thunderous blow, the door burst open, and I stumbled into the dimly lit corridor. The sounds of battle assaulted my senses as gunshots and shouts echoed from every direction. My heart thundered as I gripped the rusted pipe, knuckles white with determination, but my grip was weak after having hammered on the hinges.
Smoke tainted the air, stinging my eyes, and burning my lungs with each ragged breath. I squinted, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me. The muzzle flashes of automatic weapons added a strange, distorted light to the shadowed area.
A figure emerged from the haze, his broad shoulders and confident stride instantly recognizable. Malachi. Relief washed over me, as I realized the peril he faced.
He whirled, his gaze locking onto me, a mixture of surprise and elation flickering across his rugged features. Before he could speak, a burst of gunfire erupted from a side corridor, forcing him to take cover behind a crumbling pillar.
I pressed myself against the wall as bullets ricocheted off the concrete, sending shards of debris raining down upon us. Malachi returned fire, his movements precise and lethal, each squeeze of the trigger a calculated strike.
Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of another figure weaving through the chaos with fluid precision. Rurik. He moved like a dancer, his weapon an extension of his body as he dispatched enemies with ruthless efficiency.
They had come for me, risking everything to ensure my safe return. A surge of gratitude and affection welled within me, fueling my determination to fight by their side.
Gripping the pipe tightly, I darted forward, ducking and weaving through the crossfire. A bullet whizzed past, its searing heat brushing my cheek as I pressed onward.
Malachi’s eyes widened as I drew near, his lips parting in a wordless warning, but before he could speak, a figure emerged from the shadows, leveling a gun at his exposed back. Time seemed to slow as I hurled the pipe with every ounce of strength I had left. It sailed through the air, striking the assailant’s wrist with a sickening crack. The gun clattered to the ground as he howled in pain, clutching his shattered limb.
Malachi whirled, his expression a mixture of gratitude and concern as he took in the scene. Without hesitation, he dispatched the disarmed foe before turning to look at me again.
Rurik materialized at my side, his eyes alight with fierce intensity. “We need to move,” he said harshly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.
Malachi nodded as he scanned the corridor for threats. “This way.” He gestured for us to follow.
We moved as one through the battlefield. Rurik took point, practically a blur as he cleared the path ahead, while Malachi guarded our rear, his broad shoulders a bulwark against any who dared approach.
Gunfire erupted around us, but we pressed on. I followed their lead, trusting in their skill and experience to guide us through this.
A door loomed ahead, its heavy steel frame offering possible sanctuary. Rurik reached it first, Hand on the doorknob. The door swung open, and we tumbled through, Malachi slamming it shut behind us. For a moment, silence reigned, save for our ragged breaths and the distant echoes of the battle raging beyond these walls.
I leaned against the cool metal, breathing heavily.
Malachi’s broad shoulders rose and fell with each labored breath, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room for any sign of danger. Rurik prowled the perimeter as he checked for potential threats.
The respite was fleeting, however, as the muffled staccato of gunfire echoed through the walls, a grim reminder that the battle raged on beyond our temporary sanctuary.
Malachi looked at me, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. Without a word, he gestured toward the far corner of the room, where a battered table and chairs stood.
We moved in unison, taking cover behind the meager barricade, pressed together. Rurik crouched beside us, coiled like a spring and ready to unleash a torrent of violence at the slightest provocation.
The gunfire grew louder, closer, as if the battle had shifted in our direction. Malachi’s fingers tightened around the grip of his weapon.
Suddenly, a voice crackled over the radio, cutting through the noise outside the room. “Malachi, we have Levon in custody. The remaining forces are subdued.”
A flicker of relief passed over Malachi’s features. He acknowledged the message with brief verbal exchange, but his attention never left the door.
The minutes ticked by, each second stretching into an eternity as we waited, our senses heightened, our muscles taut with anticipation. The distant echoes of battle gradually faded, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to press in upon us from all sides.
At last, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped through, his broad shoulders and confident stride instantly recognizable. I didn”t know him personally, but I recognized Viktor Yelchin, who was rumored to be the pakhan of the Yelchin bratva. He surveyed the room with a critical eye, his gaze lingering on me for a heartbeat before turning to Malachi.
“It’s done,” he said in a deep baritone that commanded respect. “Bring him in.”
Two of Viktor’s men dragged a figure through the doorway, their grips iron-clad around his bound wrists. Levon Terzian, the man responsible for my torment, for the anguish I had endured at his hands.
My breath caught in my throat as I took in his disheveled appearance, his once-imposing presence diminished, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. He was forced to his knees, his hands bound behind his back and head bowed in defeat.
Viktor stepped aside, his gaze falling upon Rurik. “Ask her.”
He looked at me, a silent question burning within their depths. He must already know Terzien had taken me, but they apparently required confirmation and an accounting of the experience.
I swallowed hard, steadying myself as I prepared to recount the horrors I had endured at Levon’s hands. “He...” My voice faltered, the words catching in my throat like shards of broken glass. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain dispassionate, to detach from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. “He tortured me,” I continued, my tone flat, devoid of inflection. “Beatings, psychological torment... He used every tactic in the book to try to break me.”
Rurik’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with barely contained fury. Malachi also bristled at my words, his knuckles whitening around the grip of his weapon. Hearing my account was clearly painful for them train
“But I never broke,” I said, voice growing stronger and more defiant. “No matter what he did, I never gave him the satisfaction of breaking me.”
A flicker of pride appeared in Malachi’s eyes. Rurik beamed at me with approval.
Levon lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine with a defiant glare. “You think you’ve won?” He spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the floor, his voice dripping with contempt. “This is just the beginning. You’ll never be safe as long as you’re associated with these animals.”
Before I could react, Malachi was upon him, his fist crashing into Levon’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Levon’s head snapped back, his body crumpling to the floor like a rag doll.
My heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. I had endured Levon’s torment, his relentless attempts to break me, and emerged victorious. As I watched his prone form sprawled at my feet, a new emotion took root—a burning desire for retribution.
Malachi’s chest heaved with each ragged breath, his eyes blazing. I knew that look, had witnessed it firsthand during our harrowing escape. It was the look of a predator, a hunter who had cornered his prey and was poised to deliver the killing blow.
Without a word, he reached for his sidearm, his movements calculated. The metallic click of the safety disengaging seemed to echo through the room, amplified by the deafening silence that had fallen over us.
Time seemed to slow as Malachi leveled the weapon at Levon’s prone form, his finger tightening around the trigger.
I knew what he intended, and I lunged forward. “Stop.” The word tore from my lips as a desperate plea.
Malachi’s gaze snapped to mine, his brow furrowed in a mixture of surprise and confusion. His finger remained poised on the trigger.
I took a step forward as I held his piercing stare. “Don’t do this,” I pleaded, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.
Malachi’s eyes burned with an intensity that threatened to consume me. “He deserves to die for what he’s done.”
“I know, but not like this.”
Rurik’s gaze flickered between us, his expression unreadable.
Viktor also remained impassive, his steely gaze fixed upon Malachi, awaiting his next move.
Malachi’s grip tightened on the weapon, his knuckles whitening with the strain. “He’s a monster,” he said in a snarl, vibrating with a fury that threatened to consume us all. “He deserves to suffer for what he’s done to you, to us.”
I took another step forward, heart pulsing as I closed the distance between us. “I know,” I repeated, my voice soft, “But this isn’t the way.”
Malachi’s jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine for understanding. I saw a glimpse of the man beneath the armor, the man who had risked everything to save me from Terzien and protect me from the horrors of this world.
“I’ve earned the right to make him pay,” I whispered, but my words were still audible to those around us.
Silence descended upon the room, a deafening stillness that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Malachi’s grip on the weapon wavered, his eyes flickering with myriad emotions—anger, confusion, and a glimmer of understanding.
Slowly, he lowered the weapon, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had been lifted from them.
Viktor cleared his throat, breaking the spell that had fallen over us. “What would you have us do?”
I turned to face him, summoning my courage. “Let me handle this,” I said with confidence.
Viktor’s gaze flickered to Malachi, a silent question passing between them. After a moment, he nodded, stepping aside to allow me access to Levon’s crumpled form.
I approached slowly, my footsteps echoing through the room like the tolling of a bell. Levon stirred, his eyes flickering open as he became aware of my presence. A sneer twisted his features, a defiant glare that spoke of his arrogance and belief that he had somehow won despite not being able to break me.
I crouched beside him, keeping my movements controlled. When he looked at me, there was a flicker of uncertainty that sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me.
“You think you’ve won?” I whispered, my voice low. “You think you’ve broken me?”
Levon’s sneer deepened, his eyes narrowing in contempt. “You’re nothing but a weak, pathetic little girl and you were nothing more than a means to an end. For me, for Armen,” He jerked his head to my lovers, “And for them, though they want something different than I do.”
A mirthless chuckle escaped my lips. “That’s where you’re wrong,” I said, leaning closer, my lips mere inches from his ear. “I”m far more than a pawn or a diversion.”
With a swift motion, I drew back my fist and struck, connecting to his jaw with a fleshy thud. Levon’s head snapped back, his body recoiling from the force of the blow.
I struck again, and again, each blow fueled by the rage that had simmered within me since he had kidnapped me. That fury that had been my constant companion during captivity.
Levon’s cries of pain were music to my ears. I poured every ounce of anger and anguish into each strike.
Somewhere in the distance, I was vaguely aware of Malachi’s voice, a low murmur that seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the sound of my fists connecting with flesh. It wasn’t until strong arms encircled me, pulling me back, that I became aware of my surroundings once more. Malachi’s face swam into focus, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and pride.
“Enough,” he said, his voice instantly soothing the raging storm within me.
Rurik huddled at my side, clearly concerned, though he appeared impressed. I blinked, chest heaving with each ragged breath as I absorbed the scene before me. Levon lay crumpled on the floor, his face a bloody mess, eyes swollen shut, and his body battered.
Rather than be dismayed, I was at peace with what I had done. I had faced my tormentor and beat him, figuratively and literally. Any remaining fear drained away, replaced by a newfound sense of liberation.
Malachi tightened his arms around me, his warmth enveloping me like a protective cocoon. I leaned into his embrace as Rurik knelt beside us, putting his arms around me too. I had never felt so safe or cherished.