Page 158 of Corrupted Heart

“Ms. Mircari.”

With a quiet snarl, she whirls away from me and to the guard who’s just spoken.

“What?”

The man nods at the elevator, at the blinking lights signifying a rising car.

Amaya nods. “Get ready,” she barks, her lips pulling into a cold, poisonous smile. “They’re here.”

The elevator dings. The doors open.

Then I see him, and my heart lurches.

He’s wearing his mask.

Wordlessly, radiating a dark power, Kratos’ huge frame lumbers out of the elevator. He’s in black jeans and a black hoodie, wearing the mask I know all too well with the neon X’s for eyes and the leering smile.

He turns and grabs something in the elevator. With a yank, he drags a man across the floor on his knees. He’s wearing a dark gray suit, his hands bound behind his back. A black ski mask covers the man’s face, its eyes and mouth sewn shut, blinding him. With a grunt, Kratos tosses the man to the floor in front of him.

The whole place is deathly quiet. You can see and feel the uneasiness of the guards as they glance at each other and then to the giant masked psychopath standing before them.

“My my, Kratos…”

Amaya strolls forward, her brow raised as she hefts the gun in her hand.

“Bit early for Halloween, isn’t it?”

“I brought what you asked for.”

Jesus fuck. He’s using that same voice changer from before: the one that makes him sound like a demonic robot from hell.

Around me, everyone—the guards, Grisha and his men, even Amaya—stiffens a little, looking creeped the fuck out. Then Amaya recovers.

“You sure did,” she purrs, eying Drazen as he kneels on the floor.

Kratos walks over behind the Serbian and roughly kicks him in the middle of the back, shoving him flat onto the ground.

“You have what you wanted.”

He turns and jabs a big finger right at me, making me shiver.

“Now I want her.”

Amaya half turns, nodding to two of her men. They lower their guns and walk over, grabbing Drazen under the arms and hauling him to the side of the room where they drop him back to the floor in a heap.

“You want her?” Amaya smiles, turning to me. My heart leaps into my throat as she raises her gun, waving it at me. “Her?”

Kratos doesn’t react. He merely cocks his head to the side, that unnerving neon smile leering into Amaya’s face.

“Her,” he rasps in that creepy voice. “Now.”

Movement catches my eye. My gaze snaps past Kratos to the four Chernoff men creeping up behind him with guns drawn.

“KRATOS!”

I scream, but not soon enough. Just as he starts to whip around, the men tackle him to the ground. Two of them roughly pin him to the ground on his knees as I cry out. The other two jam their gun barrels into his back.

“Get comfy, Kratos,” Amaya sneers. She walks over to him and slowly slides the hunting knife out of the holster on his belt. A chill ripples down my back as she slowly turns to me, turning the blade in her hand thoughtfully. “I want you to watch what happens next.”

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