Page 81 of Bratva King's Secret Twins

“Ah, Venom.” I walk up to him, swinging my knife open as I make my way over. “I thought you would remember me, pal. You know I still have your finger?”

I wiggle my eyebrows, teasing him, and three guys hold him back when he lunges for me. I wink at him. “Don’t worry, babes, we'll play later.” I look around the room again, screaming at the top of my lungs. “Mason!”

“Mr. Petrov,” a man's voice rings from up the stairs, and I see the skinny bastard wiping his bloody hands on a cloth as he enters the room. “It’s not normal that I get a visit from a man of your caliber. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where a curly-haired girl named Gwen is?” I ask, flipping the knife in and out as casually as I could muster.

“You mean my girl?” Mason’s eyes narrow as he clicks his head to the side, standing on the last step of the stairs. His hands are still pink from someone else's blood. My body runs cold and my smile turns cheshire.

“Your girl?” I question with a flicked eyebrow, keeping my composure. “Don’t make a fool of yourself, Mason. You and I both know she’s mine, but if you don’t understand that, I could surely beat it into you.”

Mason giggles. He fucking laughs in my face. “You won’t get within five feet of mebefore one of my men kills you.”

“See, that’s why I have her.” I point to Nadia who stands behind me, casually popping the gum in her mouth.

“And what’s a little girl going to do to us?” Venom chuckles, clinking his glass with a green haired boy next to him.

I glance back at Nadia and give her a subtle nod. In one swift movement, she lunges at Venom, grabbing his head and slamming it into the glass he was previously tapping on so arrogantly. Blood spurts out from his broken nose as he staggers back, letting out a guttural scream that only brings satisfaction to my smirk.

Nadia's hand moves with lightning speed, pulling out a silver blade from her boot. She plunges it deep into Venom's gut, twisting it with a satisfied smirk as his screams turn into gurgles and blood pours from his mouth. With precision and ease, she slashes his throat in one fluid motion, creating a spray of crimson that paints the air in front of us as Venom crumples to the ground.

Nadia stands over Venom's body, wiping her blade on his shirt with a casual disdain, as if she was polishing a spoon. I turn my gaze back to Mason, whose smug grin has vanished entirely.

“Nadia,” I say, my voice cold and steady, “has a way of getting the point across, don’t you think?”

Mason swallows hard, looking over at his men, who eye Nadia with caution as she picks her shotgun back off of the floor and places it back on her shoulder.

“Now,” I continue, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “I’ll ask you again, Mason. Where is Gwen?”

Mason's eyes dart around the room, and he rolls his shoulders back, staring at me head on. Instead of answering, Mason sneers, his lips curling into a twisted grin. “You think you scareme, Petrov? You think I’m just gonna roll over and give you what you want? No, Gwen is mine, so fuck off.”

I tilt my head, assessing Mason with cold, calculating eyes. He's either a fool in love, unbelievably stupid, or just that unlucky. But it doesn't matter to me. I will kill him all the same. With a casual shrug, I lift my hoodie off, roll my neck to the side, and let out a low, menacing growl. "Since you insist on being difficult," I spit out each word like acid, "your entire sorry excuse for a club will have the pleasure of witnessing me beat you within an inch of your life."

I don’t give him a chance to respond. I close the distance between us in a heartbeat, my fist connecting with his jaw in a brutal uppercut that sends him stumbling back. His men don’t dare intervene; they know the consequences would be lethal. Nadia pops her gum with a smile on her lips.

Mason recovers quickly, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes narrow with a mixture of fury and determination. “Really, Petrov? A sucker punch?” he spits, lunging forward.

I duck under his first swing, but he catches me off guard with a quick jab to my ribs. The pain radiates through my side, but I shake it off, retaliating with a hook that connects solidly with his cheekbone.

I don’t allow him to breathe as I deliver a series of rapid blows, each one more punishing than the last. Blood sprays from his mouth as I smash his face with my knee. His cries of pain are music to my ears, and I smile as his shattered face looks at mine.

The room is silent except for the sickening thud of my fists connecting with flesh and bone. I can feel the rage boiling inside me, the fury that has been building ever since Gwendisappeared, ever since I met my children, since Boris killed my mother. Every punch I land is for them, for the terror he put her through, for the danger he placed my children in.

Mason’s face is a bloody, swollen mess by the time I finally stop, barely recognizable. He gasps for air, his chest heaving with the effort to stay conscious, his breath coming in ragged, shaky bursts as he falls to the ground

“Where is she?” I demand again, my voice low and lethal. My hand grips his hair to pull his face back up to me.

With blood dribbling from his mouth and his teeth loose in his gums, Mason finally breaks. “Boris…a man named Boris has her. She’s…she’s in the warehouses in the South Bronx.”

I lean in close, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, “Good. You did one good thing with your useless life.”

The words barely leave my mouth before I drive my knife into his chest, and growling against his ear, I twist it slowly as his body convulses in agony. “This is for threateningmywoman.”

His eyes widen in shock, the life draining out of them as I pull the blade free and watch him collapse to the floor.

For a moment, I just stand there, breathing heavily, letting the adrenaline that ran through my veins sizzle to a simmer. All the energy I had, the thread keeping me standing and giving me the strength to beat the crap out of Mason, seems to snap, and before I can stop it, three weeks of exhaustion catch up to me.

My eyes drop to the blood pooling around Mason’s lifeless body. I turn to face his men, who are frozen in place, and I can feel their eyes locked on me. I drop to my knees, my head spinning and my body heavier than it has ever been.

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