Page 81 of Cruel Crown

“Humiliation,” she replied without taking her eyes off the weapons chest.

Paco went to the chest, picking up object after object until he grabbed a sword.

Daphne shook her head like he was dumb. He said, “That one,” and when Damian reached for the matching weapon, he did it with a glee in his eyes.

Roman nodded at both of them and then spoke. “We do not forgive.”

“We do not forget,” Damian and Paco said.

“Crossing us is certain death,” everyone spoke, and I got chills.

Stomps went around the room, along with howls. Roman walked back, and then before he stepped out of the ring, he said, “Let there be blood.”

Paco howled in rage as he moved his sword at Damian. Damian grinned, and with his own sword, he quickly pushed back. The room was full of gasps and metal clanking with the occasional stomp and howl. Paco pushed, and Damian toyed with him. I was amazed because the art of the sword was lost with technology nowadays.

Damian took a move to the side, and Paco used the opportunity to turn around and swing, causing the sword to cut Damian at the side. Blood started to pour, and the wound was superficial, but it looked disgusting.

Paco smiled with triumph, and Damian grabbed his side and smiled. He brought his thumb to his mouth and licked off the blood. He then moved the sword using only his wrist—he had style, and you had to respect that.

The clashing of metal was all that could be heard, and even sparks flared when they grazed against each other. There would be no mercy shown from either of them.

“While I excelled in poisons and human psychology, Damian was an expert in swordplay and a war master.”

Just as she said this, Damian started to attack Paco from all angles as blood dripped down his side. One second they were evenly matched, the next Paco’s sword was in the air, and Damian grabbed it. Time seemed to still, and I saw it in Paco’s eyes…poor bloke knew he was going to fucking die.

Damian crisscrossed the swords into Paco’s chest all the way to the hilt. Paco’s lifeless eyes stared back at him as blood poured from his mouth. Damian smiled as he lowered the body to the ground once Paco’s corpse was almost kneeling. Damian kicked it off the swords, leaving them gleaming with blood.

“Fucking shit,” I murmured.

“It doesn’t compare to how he killed Ivan,” Daphne said.

“Good,” I added. I was sure I would have made Ivan fuck himself before killing him had that been me.

Roman walked back into the pit, took hold of Damian’s hand, and raised it in the air.

Damian smiled, and it was creepy because I didn’t think I’d ever seen the fucker look as happy as he did now. He looked at everyone, starting from the right to the center where Daphne and I were, giving me a smirk that caused Daphne to tense up, and then to the left side where Bastian stood next to Francesca.

He removed his arm from Roman’s grasp and stepped forward.

“My family,” he said. “Now that we are all gathered here, I’d like to tell you a few things.”

Just as he said this, the door to the catacombs opened, and a group of men walked in.

“Fuck,” I cursed, and Daphne growled as we recognized some of the men. Suddenly it all made sense to me, and I felt like I had walked into a trap.

“Yorovich Morozov is no longer with us, and with his departure, I saw an opening to expand our power.”

Daphne pushed back against me as if she wanted to blend into me.

“His men are now my—our men. His kingdom is now ours.” Damian raised his hands as the men stood in a line behind all of us.

“Everything the bratva does is now Sekten.” He took another step, and he smiled like the devil would welcome you to hell. “I think it’s time we stopped living in the shadows, don’t you?”

Some people hooted and cheered; others knew the danger of the things he spoke of.

“I’ve decided to take a more active role,” he went on.

“Fuck,” Daphne hissed.

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