Page 29 of Cruel Crown

“I can see you look happier than a kid at Disneyland, but can you move this along? Damian texted saying the jet should be here in three hours, and there’s something I still need to do.”

Bas moved the cell phone as if I could read what he had talked about with the other Russian bastard.

Circling behind Yoro, I grabbed his shoulders and put my mouth to his ear. “You hear that, mate? I’m going to see my woman. When I force her to kneel for me, she won’t even be thinking about you.”

I pulled back, and then I kicked the chair forward and watched as Yoro fell face-first. While he was down, I kicked one of the legs from the chair out, and then I turned him over by kicking him in the ribs until I felt the bone break beneath my feet.

I knew he was close to passing out.

“Help me stand him,” I instructed Bas. He didn’t say shit and got up, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“Where do you want him?”

“Bent over the chair,” I said as I motioned to the chair he had been sitting on.

While he did as I asked, I took a sip of my water before bending to grab the twin blades and putting them in my back pockets.

“Pull down his trousers,” I said in a low voice, letting the rage of all the shit he did consume me. This was for her, but it was also for me. Bas raised one of his brows and pulled Yoro’s bottoms down, revealing his pale arse. As for the Russian bastard, I thought he was crying.

“Should I spit on it?” I asked Bas.

“I don’t know? Do you think he was ever as kind to Daphne?”

Nope. The fucker had been raping her since she was sixteen years old. Coming behind him, I put my body on top of his and put my mouth to his ear.

Once he started to moan and beg for forgiveness, I shoved the leg of the chair up his arse. His scream tore through the air, sounds coming straight from hell. I felt blood trickle to my knuckles, and only then did I stop.

Yoro was heaving, his body shaking. He never expected to feel violated, not like this. He didn’t even have it in him to scream, just a pathetic fucking sob. Grabbing the scalpel and dagger from my back pocket, I struck, the knife lodging in the middle of his right eye, the juices from the eye tracking down. The blade at the side of his head took a little more force to penetrate the thick skin down to the skull.

When I was done, I felt calm, serene, and I was thinking clearer than I had in weeks.

“Game over, Petal. I’m coming for you.”

Part II

She didn’t want to be loved for her petals, she wanted to be loved for her thorns. She knew if someone loved her flaws, they would love her whole—Unknown.

Daphne

Location:Russia

Nothing marked the greatness of a ruler more than the castle he lived in. That’s why the Winter Palace was built on a monumental scale, for it was a kingdom for emperors.

If history has taught us anything, it is that even the mightiest empires will fall.

While headquarters were in Moscow, the official lair for the Sekt was actually very far away. To house one of the largest criminal organizations that threatened the world, you needed to practically be in hell to remain invisible. During World War I, there had been talk about building an airstrip in the Republic of Sakha, but the war had ended before plans were put in motion. When World War II came along, even though Russia’s greatest empire had fallen, they went ahead. They built an airstrip near the city of Oymyakon.

Due to its subarctic climate, less than nine hundred people inhabited the small town. It was long winters and short summers. You see, the airstrip wasn’t the only thing they built. Far away from civilization, they had built a castle that housed one of Russia’s greatest mysteries.

I looked out the window and saw that another jet was approaching. I guess the ride wouldn’t be solo anymore. It was time to meet all the snakes that wanted to see me drown. Even though it was October, the temperature was already in the single digits. By the time our month together was up, the thermometer would be in the negative digits. Getting up, I put on my arctic jacket, then my gloves that were lined with fur, and lastly, a wool Balaklava so my cheeks wouldn’t get burned.

I wondered if Bastian was already here. On my trip, I realized that although I wanted to see him, it was the information I wanted the most. I wanted to know if—fuck, I couldn’t even bring myself to say his name because it caused me pain. But I wanted to know if he was amongst the dead.

With my luggage in one hand, I made my way down the stairs, looking at the beautiful landscape on the horizon. Even though this place held many horrors, I couldn’t deny the beauty of it.

As I made my way down, the winds from the motor blew toward my face, causing me to squint my eyes. I looked ahead at the black jet and saw it was the Sekt’s jet, and most likely, Damian and whoever he had brought on the ride with him. When I saw a bitch in pink gear peek her head out, I rolled my eyes.

My patience was thin, and if she said something to me, I would kill her. Instead of waiting for them, I walked to where five people were standing. By them was a line of military-grade snowmobiles that the locals kept for us. We provided for them, and in return, they had kept our secret for more than a hundred years.

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