Page 38 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

KADRA

HELL ON EARTH

“I was made of blood, tears and chaos.” – K

“I failed you,” I whisper to my reflection in the mirror where instead of the woman that I am now, stands a fifteen-year-old girl with tears falling from her eyes, hair that hasn’t been brushed in days, with red marks on her skin and blood under her nails, looking back at me. There in the mirror is the girl who fought with her entire being yet evil won that night. It seemed that no matter how hard she fought and clawed they were always stronger than her. That girl in the mirror is not the same as the woman that I am today. Oh, how I wish I were. I wish I could’ve been this strong and merciless back then because then I wouldn’t have allowed them to hurt the young girl that I was and for that, I will always be sorry. That is my greatest shame and failure. “I couldn’t save you,” I whisper harshly, my voice breaking. “I couldn’t keep the world from hurting you.”

This pain in my chest is torturous. It’s the kind of pain that robs me of air and wraps around my heart squeezing until my vision becomes blurry. Until I’m left panting and so very weak.

The kind of pain I never allow anyone to see.

When I’m alone and when no one can witness my shame, that’s when I allow myself to feel. As a reminder of how badly it will end for me if I let anyone inside the chaos that is my head and my soul. If I let them anywhere near my heart.

I think back to the night my entire world crumbled at my feet. That night shattered what little goodness was left in me.

I was broken way before that night but that moment changed me. It made me stronger. It’s tragic how I died and was reborn that same night. From that moment onwards, no one ever hurt me again. No one ever dared. I grew wiser and stronger until my father’s empire became my own with the help of the Volpe and Nicolasi heirs. The power dynamic shifted in the families the night Lorenzo took out his grandfather, the capo of Detroit, and took his place as the boss of his family. Then Lucan Volpe ascended as the capo of the three families and that allowed me to decimate the Parisi family. While my father remained in chains suffering all he put his daughters through, I’ve been sitting on his throne until it serves me no purpose.

Until I can end it. Only then he’ll meet his end too.

Then the reflection of the crying girl in the mirror disappears and the images shown to me earlier take her place haunting me. Angering me until all I can see are their sad faces and their marred skin. I knew that Gabriele was capable of evil deeds and horrors but it never crossed my mind that he would use our family’s hotels to hide those sick fuckers and provide the cage that kept those kids in hell.

The anger bubbles until I can’t take it any longer, grabbing the knife from my back pocket and throwing it at the mirror, shattering it. I watch as the broken pieces fall to the floor close to my high-heeled boots.

Looking down, I catch my distorted reflection in the broken pieces of glass and I know deep in my soul that what I plan to do next is what’s right.

Someone knocks on the door once, interrupting my thoughts.

Crow.

That’s how I know it’s him. Crow knocks only once to let me know it’s him at the other side of my door.

“Come in,” I say as I lift my head and look away from the discarded glass on the floor and towards the door where Crow stands with a look that matches my own. He’s angry. Real angry. We don’t take kindly to perverts in this family but most of all we don’t like rats and what Gabriele Parisi did by providing the location for the sex trafficking of children in our city is a betrayal not only to our code but to the other families of Detroit. We deal in illegal activities that’s true but we don’t mess with kids. Ever. They’re innocent and Gabriele exploited that for his own selfish gains. “It’s done, boss. They’re waiting for you.”

I turn my palm over and he throws a pair of keys my way. I catch them and ask, “Where’s Azariel?”

Crow’s brows furrow. “He’s still practicing knives. I tried to get him to go shower and eat something but he refuses to leave the room.”

There’s a pang in my chest, the second Crow finishes the sentence. Azariel. He reminds me so much of me when I was younger. So, hurt but so determined to survive. He makes me so proud just by being himself. “And the Russian?”

Crow leans against the black wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s showing the boy the quickest way to end someone with a knife.” My lip twitches but I quickly conceal it by clearing my throat.

“Good.” I sidestep Crow and exit the room, taking the stairs two at a time in search of Azariel. I want him to dream, yes but for me to accomplish that, I have to take care of his nightmares first. Tonight, he’ll see firsthand what happens to evil men in our world.

I finally reach the room where I keep all my weapons and where my men train and find them both there. Azariel is standing quietly while the Russian stands next to him with two knives in hand. I don’t announce my presence and just stand back watching them. Azariel looks so tiny next to Vitali that looks like a tank covered in tattoos.

I hadn’t noticed how similar they both looked. Raven hair and pale skin although Azariel has a slight tan to it whereas Vitali doesn’t.

“Always aim for the neck.” Vitali hands one of the knives to Azariel which he takes without hesitation. I watch in wonder as the boy stands there listening without fear. He stands tall and curious but also very alert. What is it about the Russian that makes him feel no fear? Perhaps Azariel sees in Vitali what I saw as a girl.

A friend and not a foe. That’s how I began to see him soon after that first morning we met. Although Vitali looks like a thug with his tattoos and his deadly stare that makes you feel like he’s staring into your soul still he never made me feel as if I was ever in any danger. Never once did he make me fear for my life and now looking at his posture and how he’s giving Azariel space and not crowding him I know that’s what Azariel sees too.

“The neck has the Carotid artery and the Jugular vein. If either is cut then the attacker will bleed to death very rapidly.” Vitali says while looking down at Azariel.

Azariel lifts his head and looks up at Vitali. “How quickly?” Curious, brave boy.

A grin takes over my face. “Bleeding to death can happen very quickly if the hemorrhaging isn’t stopped. Your attacker can bleed to death in just five minutes. You make sure to make his wound severe and it’ll be an even quicker death.” I answer before the Russian has a chance to. I remember my little sister, Mila, sharing the fact with me once when she saw me playing with my knives.

I’ve always been obsessed with knives just like my sister has always been crazy about fun facts that at times are not that fun but I would never tell her that.

---