Page 24 of Bratva Butcher

There was no challenge in it, and the majority of the time, they just cried and begged for their life. There was no fun in that. No adrenaline pumping through my veins.

This woman—Tara, I think I heard the commentators announce—had managed to get my heart beating that little bit faster, and for that, I’d give her a quick death.

Let no one say I’m not the merciful type.

She was still crying when I kicked her down onto her back, far too overcome with pain to even try to stop me.

I crouched over her, grabbed her face in my hands and—

Snap.

Her cries ceased, and her body went limp.

I only had a second to stand to my full height before the ring swarmed with guards, and my cuffs were slapped back on my wrists.

Cautious, that lot were.

I was escorted over to the winners’ bench while Tara’s dead body was dumped on the pile like the rest, and on and on it went, like a vicious, never-ending cycle.

In pairs, the prisoners went into the ring, and only one walked out. Sometimes none. Talon would occasionally appear on the TV and deem the winner unworthy, ordering them to be killeddespite having won their match. He only wanted the best of the best—the ones guaranteed to put up a good, entertaining fight.

I watched, eagerly waiting for that jackass’ turn. When a guard finally went over to him and pulled him to his feet, I smiled. Disappointing as it was that I wouldn’t personally be the one to end his life, at least I would get a front-row seat to the show.

Here’s hoping all those muscles were just for show.

Chapter Nine

Dimitri Volkov

Ifollowed Autumn withunwavering focus as she moved around the ring, trading blows with her opponent. The fight didn’t last long. A minute, maybe two. But for that entire time, I studied every move she made with narrowed eyes.

She wasfast, which was a hard thing to achieve, given how tall she was. Light as a feather on her feet. And extremely skilled. The way she tackled the other woman and broke her leg in one quick move? That was a jiu-jitsu move, through and through. I’d seen enough of it over the years to spot it.

I’d seen her kill two people so far without a shred of hesitation. She had a sharp, agile mind. Quick reflexes. Was proficient in at least two different fighting styles.How is it that I’ve never heard of her before?A fighter of her calibre would be well-known within my world. And I was one hundred percent confident she was somehow involved in the life, whether she be from anothercrime syndicate, a gang, MC or possibly even an assassin (I was definitely leaning more towards that).

Alarm bells went off in my head. She was dangerous.Far too dangerous. Despite what I was sureshethought, my ego wasn’t that big. I could recognise a potential threat, and Autumn DeValos wasexactlythat: a threat. One I would need to get rid of as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Once she’d killed her opponent, she was escorted to the bench behind the commentators and forced to sit down by a rough shove of the shoulder. She sneered up at the guard and shook off his touch. Her gaze collided with mine. We glared at each other. More fights continued on, but Autumn and I just continued to scowl at one another from across the crowded room.

It was nothing short of a challenge, a dare from both her and me. That we had a score to settle.

It wasn’t until it was my turn to fight that our silent battle of wills ended.

Like all the others, I was led over to the side of the ring. A guard unlocked the cuffs around my ankles first, then my wrists. He tried to shove me forward, but I planted my feet and held my ground. I’d seen the guard pull that exact same crap with each prisoner who stepped up for their turn. I wasn’t going to be another person he could push down.

I looked over my shoulder, an evil, deadly glare in my eyes. I didn’t say anything, just stared at him with malicious intent.

He shrivelled under my gaze, his eyes darting to the floor.

I released a derisive snort before taking the few steps up to the ring and ducking under the ropes.

I moved to one side and took stance, waiting. My arms hung loosely at my side, my shoulders squared.

“Well, well, well, ladies and gentlemen, this next fight promises to be a good one. We have a notorious mafiaPakhaninour midst.” I glanced to my right, seeing the commentators with headsets on their heads eyeballing me.

One of the cameras panned around the outside of the ring, ensuring to get me from every angle as the commentators continued to speak.

Others might have been confused by what was going on. I wasn’t. I recognised the room the moment we entered. Every year, when Talon would send the invitation for his Til Death Games, the email contained other details. Little bits of information about the event, such as videos of the fighters and what they could do. A great way to build anticipation and excitement around the games.

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