Page 27 of Bratva Butcher

A deterrent to stop anyone from trying to escape… Clever.

One thing became evidently clear to me as I got to my feet, stretching out my body. Those people would be my opponents—the ones fighting in the games.

Only one person in that room would walk away alive, and despite how hard I was sure Talon was going to make it for me, I had every intention of being that person.

I had maybe ten seconds to get my bearings, studying the layout, the cells, the security, my competition, before that bitch pounced on my back, her legs hooking around my waist at thesame time as her arms wrapped around my neck in a tight, inescapable chokehold.

Impressive, given the barrier the collar provided, not that I’d ever admit that to her.

“I told you I would kill you,” she hissed in my ear, squeezing tighter. “And now, I finally will.”

“You…fucking…bitch,” I choked out, thrashing from side to side, trying to get her off me. “Let…go!”

“We’ve been here before, Butcher, so, to quote myself, ’I’d rather watch the life drain from your eyes’.” The pressure increased—painfully so—and I rammed into the cell bars in the hopes of dislodging her.

It didn’t work. Her hold was firm. Unwavering.

Left, right, side-to-side. I slammed into the bars over and over again, but she held tight.

“Give in, Butcher. Let the darkness take you. You can’t win. I’m locked in. It’s time to die.”

The darkness she spoke of danced in front of my eyes, my lungsburningfor air. Refusing to let the panic set in, I hurled myself backwards, and since that bitch was attached firmly to my back like a goddamn spider monkey, she took the brunt of the fall withmelanding on top ofher.

She grunted, blowing out a wheeze of pain. Shaking off her hold after that was easy. I got up quickly and tried to stomp on her neck like I’d done to Muscle Man in the ring, but she was fast, rolling away at the last second. Then, she was up, putting distance between us.

We circled each other—hard to do in the limited space we had, but nonetheless, we managed, eyeing each other cautiously.

It was the first time we’d had the freedom to move properly, freely without the restrictions of chains, and all those threats we’d thrown at each other were about to come to fruition.

“I didn’t know I was in the presence of mafia royalty. The famous Bratva Butcher. My, my. I feel like I should ask for your autograph or something. Everyone knows whoyouare.”

“Sure. Why don’t you come a little closer? I’ll sign whatever you want.”

She smirked. “If you insist.” Then, she lunged, attacking with a swift roundhouse kick. I reared back and threw a punch, knee, elbow combo. She deflected each strike with ease, lashing out with her own in response. Back and forth, back and forth we went, exchanging blow after blow, blocking and attacking.

She was good. Very good. Quick, decisive. Never hesitant in the moves she made. When she saw an opportunity to strike, she took it.

Her skills made me firmly believe she’d had some sort of training. It was in the way she moved. Silent. Deadly. Confident. The way each of her strikes were coordinated to cause as much damage as possible. She also didn’t have a problem fighting fucking dirty, pulling hair, biting and scratching, doing whatever she needed to do to get a leg up in the fight. Like a true fucking savage.

She clipped me on the side of the head with a kick. My body was still recovering from everything it had endured at the hands of my brother and the fights from earlier, so I wasn’t as quick as I knew I could be. I faltered, and she didn’t waste a single second capitalising on it, unleashing strike after strike after strike, forcing me to back up each time I blocked.

Frustration mounted inside me. It was taking everything I possessed to hold her back. She was intent on killing me—that much was clear, and I’d had e-fucking-nough.

With a snarl, I charged through her next round of attacks, picking her up in a running tackle and slamming her up against the wall at the back of the cell. Her head whacked against the concrete, which I guessed must have been painfully hard, butshe kept fighting, kicking and thrashing as I pinned her up by the arms, her feet inches from the ground.

She took a cheap shot, trying to knee me in the balls. I barely managed to avoid it by twisting slightly out of the way. With both of my hands occupied with holding her up against the wall, I had no choice but to use my body to flatten her against the wall.

“Let me go!” She fought with everything she had, but there was no denying she was outmatched. I was bigger, stronger. She couldn’t beat me. Not that way. “I said let me go, you bastard!”

Her body continued to thrash against mine. Involuntarily, unwanted feelings began to surface. It had been a long,long, time since I’d had a woman pressed up against me like that. Adrenaline was pumping hard through my veins, making everything even more difficult to ignore. Her breasts pushed up against my chest. All those plump curves. Soft skin.

It’s just your body’s natural response. Ignore it.

Gritting my teeth, I slammed both of her hands above her head with one of my own and then collared her throat, wedging my free hand in between that metal collar and her neck.

I lowered my head to stare her dead in her eyes. “I think I’d rather watch the life drain from your eyes,” I whispered darkly, throwing her own words back in her face.

She glared, her chest heaving, her breasts rising and falling, the movement drawing my attention because with each breath, they brushed up against me.

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