Page 2 of Crown of Hate

Akim nods, his face impassive.

“The hell I will,” I grumble. “If you have something to say to him, do it yourself.”

“I’m not asking, Alya,” he states calmly.

“You don’t have to. I’m not going anywhere near Mikhail.” I leap to my feet and cross my arms. It’s a flimsy shield against the storm I know is coming, but it’s all I have. “I want you out of here. Now. Take your message and shove it.”

Akim rises slowly, prowling towards me like a wolf closing in on its prey. I back away instinctively, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. I only stop when the back of my legs hit the couch behind me.

Trapped.

His hand shoots out, vice-like fingers digging into my chin. “Listen here, you little brat. You will do exactly as I say,” he snarls, mask of civility finally breaking. His breath is hot on my face, reeking of cigars. “Daddy’s rotting in the ground, and you’re no longer a princess. You’re nothing but a filthy whore. And a good whore will do whatever dirty work I need her to do.”

Ice coats my veins as I stare back at him. I’m trying to hold onto my bravado, but it’s slipping through my fingers like sand. My body betrays me. I’m trembling, and I can feel a bead of sweat trickling down my temple.

Don’t let him see how scared you are. Don’t give him that satisfaction.

“Let. Me. Go.” Each word is a struggle, forced out through gritted teeth.

His grip tightens. “You will be a good little whore and deliver my message to Mikhail tomorrow. Do you understand me?”

Summoning every ounce of courage, I spit my words directly in his face. “Go to hell, Akim. I won’t do your dirty work.”

His eye narrows threateningly, and then a cruel smile twists his lips. “Bold of you. It would be a real shame if something were to… disrupt your mother’s cancer treatments.”

My blood curdles. “You can’t do that!”

The wicked smirk deepening on his face is all the response I need to know Akim would do that and even worse. He could kill both me and Mama in a heartbeat if he wanted to. And Boris would probably thank him for taking out the trash.

My resistance crumbles like ash. “Okay,” I choke out, hating the desperation in my voice. Hating myself for giving in. “I’ll… I’ll do it. Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt my mother.”

“Now that’s a good little whore,” he sneers, shoving me away like I’m something he scraped off his shoe. “See how easy that was?”

I stumble back, my eyes stinging with tears. I never had a chance. With men like this, you never do.

But I don’t care what happens to me. I’m fine as long as Mama is safe. I’d walk through fire for her. I’d face a thousand Akims. I’d even face Mikhail himself.

Which is exactly what I’m about to do.

Things weren’t like this when Papa was alive. He made sure we were well-protected and taken care of. No one would dare treat me like this if… if Mikhail didn’t kill him.

It’s his fault. It’s all Mikhail’s fault.

The thought burns through me, a hatred so intense it makes me dizzy. I cling to it, letting it fuel me. It’s better than the fear. Better than the despair.

“What’s the message?” I manage to ask, my voice barely a whisper.

Akim pulls out his phone, fingers dancing across the screen. Moments later, the doors fly open and a man in a black suit appears. Akim signals him to give me something, and he does: a white envelope sealed with his stamp.

I inspect it, then drag my gaze back to Akim. “What’s inside?”

He rubs his chin, savoring his power over me. “A letter. For Mikhail’s eyes only.”

A letter. One little envelope, and it feels like I’m holding a live grenade.

I brush my thumb over the brown seal, mind racing. Why trust me with this? What’s Akim’s endgame here? It’s hard to shake off the feeling that he’s up to something. Something that involves me.

“I’ll do it,” I choke the words out past the lump in my throat. “But I swear if anything happens to my mother...”

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