Chapter 16
The Prey
Since childhood, understanding emotions had always been a hassle for me. It wasn’t that I was indifferent; I simply struggled to grasp why they felt the way they did.
When my father died tragically, I watched my mother cry herself to sleep night after night.
I would kneel beside her door, bothered and confused by her tears and wondering why she couldn’t move on.
I felt the loss too, but I believed that if we stayed mired in our grief, we’d be stuck there forever.
I became her anchor during those dark times.
She called me her angel, the one who guided her through the darkness.
Yet, in truth, I merely encouraged her to keep going, to not let the grief consume us.
I didn’t understand her painfully, but I knew we couldn’t let it define our lives.
In the end, it wasn’t about dismissing our loss but about finding the strength to live beyond it.
The complexity of the human brain was beyond my grasp, but he—there was not a single nerve or bone in him I could relate to or understand.
One minute he threatened me and hurt me, and the next he was so close that I forgot whose air I was breathing.
He had me moulded into his hands, twisting me in whatever way he preferred, and then he let go, not realizing I was shattering there.
Or maybe he simply didn’t care enough to even ponder that.
A toy. That’s what I felt like.
When I struggled to my trembling legs, he was already striding forward with his cane.
Kyle was there, and I stood paralyzed, unsure of what to do next. Cruel. That’s what he was. He wielded his cruelty like a weapon, knowing exactly how to get under my skin and make me feel small.
Gathering my sanity off the ground, I stood.
Judas stopped, and so did I and my breaths. Looking around with unsure eyes, I realised we were in a corridor. I watched him cautiously as he extended his hand.
“Little bird?” I hated the tinge of nerves that rushed through me at his deep and suspiciously calm voice, as if he hadn’t cornered me just a few minutes ago.
I took a deep breath and then stepped forward. He wanted my hand. I gave it to him before pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my nails so that my skin wouldn’t touch him. A small tilt of his lips as he rubbed my sweater-clad hands with his thumb, but to my relief, he remained quiet.
“We are here, sir,” Kyle said, and Judas nodded.
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a black hole appearing in front of my eyes as if it’d suck me in. Though there was a clothed wall between us, I could feel the warmth of his palm.
Kyle opened the door, and the noise hit me all at once.
Voices, cigarette smoke, and alcohol flooded my senses, making my nose wrinkle. I hated it instantly.
Every head turned toward the door.
“Welcome back,” A man wearing a dusty brown fur coat and an ugly smirk mumbled, raising his glass toward Judas. “We’ve been waiting.”
I swallowed as Judas gave my hand a small tug. Right. He was waiting for me. I guided him to the empty couch and helped him sit before taking the seat beside him.
Kyle followed a moment later, stopping behind the couch with his hands folded neatly in front of him.
The man, built like an oversized bear, rounded the table without taking his eyes off Judas. He slipped a cigar between his fingers, lit it, and took a slow drag.
“Glad to see you made it back, little lion.”
Judas settled back against the couch, all traces of his earlier amusement gone. This was a different version of him.
Smoke curled lazily from Judas’s lips. “Where’s the rat?”
The man hesitated. It lasted less than a heartbeat.
“Rat?”
“Don’t waste my time, Dontello.” His voice remained calm as he spoke fluent Russian. “You know who I am talking about.”
The man swallowed and threw a quick glance over his shoulder.
The others understood without a word.
Three leather couches surrounded the low table in the center of the room. The one across from us held only two men—a blond and another with a tattoo stretched across his shaved forehead.
They didn’t bother looking up as they leaned over the white powder on the table.
“The rat has been... dealt with,” My ears perked up though I barely understood. “But I assure you, it won’t be a problem anymore.”
A dark chuckle rumbled beside me, sending a shiver through my bones. I glanced at Judas from beneath my lashes. His head tipped back as the chuckle deepened into quiet laughter. I swallowed. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh like that.
He had an uncanny talent for making everyone’s skin crawl.
I fidgeted with my fingers, keeping my head down as my palms grew slick with sweat.
His laughter died away, leaving behind a grin that was somehow even worse. Against my better judgment, I looked up. Just for a second, and it stole the breath from my lungs.
The devil’s greatest trick wasn’t deception. It was making evil look beautiful.
He leaned forward. “Dealt with?” he repeated, almost mockingly, this time switched to English. “I’m not interested in your empty words, Dontello. I want what I was promised.”
Dontello hesitated. “He’s in the warehouse.”
Goddamn Russian again.
“Bring me Morozov’s location before the sunrise tomorrow,” Judas replied in the same language.
Someone snickered from the other side. And Dontello shot him a glare before turning his attention to Judas. His eyes filled with abhorrence and then flickered to Kyle standing behind him. The fire diminished slightly, but the loathe remained.
The man cleared his throat swiftly. “ Understood,”
Judas leaned back again. He flicked ash from the cigar onto the floor. “Good.” he said dismissively.
I’d never heard silence this loud.
I sat there, gently rocking back and forth. Well. That answered one question. He wasn’t selectively unbearable, but rude to everyone.
“Who is she?” My head snapped toward the voice. The man with the tattooed head nodded in my direction. My jaw clenched.
Wonderful. The last thing I wanted was their attention.
I still had no idea why Judas had dragged me into this hellhole.
All I wanted was to leave, go home, crawl under my blankets, and sleep until this entire day felt like a bad dream. Anywhere but here.
To my horror, Judas hardly seemed to care as I glared at the man, as he smirked.
“No one you should concern yourself with, Carlo,” His venomous voice wrapped around me. And I thanked whatever the hell he ruled because the moment the words rolled down his tongue, Carlo’s jaw tightened and his eyes blazed with fury.
I knew from their faces that none of them liked Judas very much. Not that I complain. The man had the personality of a demon; not everyone could handle his overbearing aura.
“Where the fuck are women, Carlo? I am not here for just liquor.” The one with the disgusting face mumbled, sipping his liquor.
My frown deepened as Carlo clapped his hands. I turned just as the wall behind us slid open. My breath caught as a line of women walked in, dressed in barely there outfits that left little to the imagination.
Instinctively, I shrank back.
Their heels clicked as they approached and swayed to the music blasting in the room. Heat crept into my face, equal parts embarrassment and revulsion.
I tore my gaze away, but it was already burned into my mind.
They rounded the table, each one lowering themselves onto the men sitting around.
“On your knees, bitch.” I swallowed hard as Dontello fisted the girl’s hair and pulled her down to her knees. And pressed her head against his crotch. “Suck me good.”
“Master...” the woman moaned, and by her eyes, I knew she was high. My heartbeat felt erratic as she dropped to her knees and started fumbling with his zipper. Her motions were clumsy, but she got to it and my eyes widened as she pulled out his flaccid length.
Averting my eyes to the side, making sure I didn’t look at that... thing. Cause why the hell would he want a woman to suck him off in front of people?
“What’s the deal now? Heard you’re returning to Italy. That’s peak entertainment.”
The other danger sitting beside me cocked his head. “Careful what you hear next. It might not be as entertaining as you think.”
Dontello looked offended as his chest raised up and down with an irritated expression on his face as he pressed his lips together. “Still,” he mocked. “You realise if you leave Russia you won’t be able to find him.”
“If you don’t stop talking, it’ll cost you your head.” Judas dragged his words, and Dontello’s face paled. The former casually leaned back and threw the used bud of the cigar over his shoulder. “What’s the problem now?”
“Veronica Castro,” The man with blonde head, who appeared to be no less than thirty with wavy hair and black eyes, a light stubble on his chin and a cut that ran deep and rested on eyebrow, muttered.
“And?”
“She’s refusing to provide any information about Lucius Morozov unless you meet her privately.”
Dontello snickered. “She seems to like you.”
“Hmm, arrange a meeting with her.” Judas hummed, and one of the women crawled to Judas. Her eyes hooded and a grin on my face. When she reached him, she let her hands run along his muscular thighs. “Not today, beautiful.”
“You’ll meet her?” Dontello’s eyes widened.
“Why not? She is offering herself like a whore, I’m no saint.
” Judas slightly turned his head towards me for the first time we entered this room, and something in me stilled for a whole second as his hand ran along the woman’s long hair.
I didn’t know if he meant to regard me, or if it was just a tilt of his head, but I felt something glacial running along my bones.
“That slut is loose as fuck, but she can be useful when she wants to be as long as there’s a dick in her pussy.” Everyone laughed at something he said.
“And about Morozov? That bitch better—” A loud voice resonated as Dontello’s hand met the woman’s face as she swayed and landed on her fours. I quickly jumped on instincts but someone pressed a hand on my shoulder, and I looked back to find Kyle hovering over me, shaking his head.
“Fuck! You damn slut!” Dontello growled, slamming his foot on her face as she wailed. The wine had spilled all over the table, and the few droplets managed to land on Judas’s shoes.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” her trembling voice responded.
“Get the waiter—”
“No need,” Judas cruel voice interrupted. And then he tilted his head in my direction. “She’ll clean it. Won’t you, little bird?”
My heart skipped a beat as I looked at him wide-eyed.
“What—” My voice faltered as I felt all eyes turn towards me.
His sunglasses still concealed his eyes, but I could feel his focus on me all the same.
My stomach tightened. The contrast was almost mocking.
He absentmindedly stroked the woman’s cheek while she rested against his lap.
Meanwhile, his other arm remained draped behind me, his fingers idly threaded through my hair.
“Get on your knees,” He leaned closer, that dangerous smirk never leaving his face. His fingers disappeared into my hair, settled around my neck, and tightened in silent warning before he whispered. “Clean the mess, Ptichka.”
His warning in the elevator echoed in my head, and my stomach sank. Suddenly, the surrounding men didn’t seem nearly as frightening. Judas did. My body begged me to knock his hand away and run. But I stayed still. We both knew how that would end. Tomorrow, he’d make sure I regretted it.
My throat tightened, and I blinked furiously against the sting in my eyes. I couldn’t cry. Forcing my unsteady legs to cooperate, I pushed myself to my feet. My pulse pounded as I reached for a tissue with shaking hands.
I knelt and stared at the floor. My face burned as I wiped up the spilled wine, pretending not to hear the surrounding laughter. It was impossible to ignore.
“What a lovely slut,” someone else chimed in, their tone dripping with vile. “Share her with us.”
“That’s some obedient thing you got here,” a different man remarked. However, I couldn’t understand, but I knew whatever intentions they had, they were not good.
“Obedient...” Judas mumbled to himself. And I could feel his amused smile.
“Good girl.” A hand patted my head. I went completely still. My face burned as I stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry.
“What’s her name?” Dontello said something. “I’m already hard for her.”
“Stay away from her,” Judas said, his hand still in my hair. “She’s mine.”
My legs gave out beneath me. I knelt on the cold floor, forcing myself to look at the spilled wine instead of the surrounding faces.
My vision blurred, but I kept wiping, pretending the tears weren’t there.
Wine soaked through the tissue and dampened my fingertips.
Then a polished shoe came to rest on my hand.
“Rare. Is she your girl?”
“My woman.”
It slid up my forearm as I closed my eyes.
I could feel their eyes on me, their lecherous gazes burning holes into my very soul. I wanted to disappear, to vanish into thin air, but there was no escape. I wiped his shoes, feeling humiliated.
I pushed myself up, only to freeze as bills fluttered down around me.
Through the rain of money, I found Judas watching me with a satisfied smile, one hand lazily combing through the woman’s hair in his lap.
“You did a good job, little bird,” he said.
I tried. God, I tried. I tried to be strong. To pretend his words didn’t matter. To ignore the laughter. But then he smiled. Something inside me gave way. A single tear slipped down my cheek, landing on the hand braced against the floor, inches from his polished shoe.
I swallowed and curled my hands into fists.
“Pick up your reward, Ptichka.”
My fingers closed around the money.
“Can I leave?” My words fumbled, and he hummed. His hand left my hair, trailed down my neck before he let go, leaving behind a trail of embers.
“Kyle,” I did not want to hear his voice or look at him. My head lowered, and the bills in my hand burned my skin.
“Sir.”
“Drop my little bird.” He said, his head still turned in my direction. “Make sure she finds her way back to her cage.”