Page 27 of Cruel Crown

Once we were in the elevator, Bas and I started laughing. Two hours later, we had the information we needed.

***

I’d thought about killing Yorovich many times since Chicago. I never acted on it because I thought it was Daphne’s right to get her revenge, but if she couldn’t do it, then I was more than happy to be the one to end his miserable life.

Now we were eating some Portillo’s with cheese fries as we waited for Yoro to come to one of the warehouses he operated on the south side of Chicago. The location couldn’t have been more perfect. It was full of warehouses, some of them vacant, and the spaces remote.

“It’s going to be a bloodbath,” I warned Bastian. It had been far too long since I let my demons run loose, and I was about to remove their leash.

“I know.” He shrugged. “I know all about you, wolf. You like to play with your food, drive it insane, and then at the end, when you kill it, there’s no mercy.”

My reputation preceded me, and for some, that was more than enough to be afraid of the mention of my name. As for Yoro, I hoped he didn’t have the first clue about me. Before the night was over, he would wish for the devil than for me.

Dusk fell, and I saw the blinding lights of a car. Grabbing the binoculars that were next to my drinks, I brought them and smiled when I saw the license plate on the tinted car. It was one of Morozov’s cars.

“Is it weird that I’m hard as fuck right now?” I said, running my hand over my stiffy.

Bas snorted.

“Oddly, I’m not surprised.”

We both waited for Yorovich to get out of his car. My blood hummed with anticipation at seeing him, knowing I was about to end him. He was tall, with a rough face, strong jaw, and brusque nose. Everything about him screamed danger, and I almost came in my trousers, knowing I was going to fuck him up.

“Show time,” Bas said as he drove to where Yoro had parked.

When we passed side by side to Yoro’s car, I got out and opened the passenger door of Yoro’s car. The chauffeur had barely raised his gun at me when I grabbed the blade I carried and stabbed the side of his neck. Not once but three times, each sounding louder than the last. When I pulled the blade away, my chest was heaving, and I had specks of blood on my face.

I opened the door and pulled the driver out as Bas quickly loaded him into the trunk of the car we had borrowed, and by borrowed, I mean stolen.

Then he drove the car to the parking lot across the street. My heart was thumping loudly as I kept watch. Yorovich was just coming back out when Bastian was already at the side of the car. I had never been more grateful for tinted cars than I was at that moment. I pulled down the passenger window just a bit so I could hear the exchange.

“Yoro, it’s been far too long,” Bas greeted.

The Russian fucker halted his step for a second but seemed to be aloof.

“I wasn’t aware we had a meeting.”

Bas tapped the roof of the car. “We didn’t, but I have a message for you. And you know how Damian is, he doesn’t like to drag things out.”

Right now, Bas was toying with Yoro because the fucker was guilty. He just wasn’t sure if Damian knew it or not.

“What is so important that couldn’t wait?”

“Daphne has displeased Damian, and he wishes to know how soon will you want her back in your services so he can prepare for her absence.”

I white-knuckled the steering wheel, knowing it was all for show, but when I saw the smile on Yoro’s face, I wanted to go out and kill him right then and there.

“Get that bitch on the first flight to the US,” Yoro replied with a sadistic grin.

Bas tapped the roof twice. “Sweet, I’ll let Damian know right away.” He pretended to pull out his phone and make a call. I waited here for all of this to be done with; I just wanted to feel his blood on my skin already.

“Mind taking me back to the city? I stole a car and don’t want to risk it.”

Yoro extended his hand, telling him to get in. I grabbed the chloroform and a rag, soaking it and throwing it back as Bastian climbed in.

Through the mirror, my eyes met Yoro’s, and I saw his widening as he noticed the blood on my cheek.

“What is this?” he demanded.

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