Page 6 of Brutal Empire

No matter how much I begged, God had no mercy on me. I wanted him to end my life once and for all. I was tired of flirting with death.

You’ll never get rid of me, pet.

His voice woke me from my sleep. I was sweaty, hot, and cold at the same time—no, this wasn’t sweat. My whole body had been doused in water.

It took a second to realize that the light had been turned on.

I saw Daphne putting away a bucket. Why was Daphne doing this? I tried being good, trying to make her proud of me. All I wanted was to help her. When I arrived at this place, I knew many things didn’t add up, and when I put them together, I wasn’t horrified. Instead, I wanted to become strong like she was.

“P-plea-se.” My voice was hoarse.

“I’ve watched for two days as you wallowed in pity. Life. Isn’t. Fair. No one is coming to save you, so save yourself!” Her tone was harsh. Not even when she was training me did she speak to me this way.

“Why would you do this to me? You know how much I suffered from—”

“That rage that is consuming you right now… Let it. Let it feed you. Let it consume you. Let it guide you!” she shouted back at me.

“I can’t… I’m broken.” I admitted what we both knew from the start.

She looked like she was done with me. When she moved closer, I held my breath and prepared myself—for what? I wasn’t sure yet.

“Do you think I’m broken?”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” I answered her. She was one of the two people I knew, if I was being technical, and her boyfriend didn’t count.

“I was younger than you when my father gave me to the sheikh. It was only one night, but the damage had been done. My family was all about power. They sacrificed their only daughter to see that they got what they wanted. The next day, my mother acted as if nothing had happened. Afriendtold me to be proud because I was helping our family and to stop being dramatic.”

I couldn’t believe what she was telling me. I couldn’t picture Daphne being so helpless. She was strong, she was powerful, and she was feared.

“I’m so—”

“I do not need you to feel sorry for me.” She leaned closer to me, her silver eyes piercing me, begging me to understand what she was trying to tell me. “You are not defined by your past unless you let the past define you.” With that, she walked away. She left me alone once again. Before she left, she turned to me, and her face softened. “You have twenty-four hours to pass your final test.”

THREE

Location: Russia

Destination: Unknown

If there wasone thing I was sure of, it was that every man wanted their ego stroked and their dick sucked. That’s why I was so charming, and the main reason for my charm was walking ahead of me. Damian, current head of Sekten, unofficial Pakhan to the Bratva, and now running for an official seat of electoral power.

As if having one of the deadliest organizations wasn’t enough, the bastard was now on his way to getting a political platform. One hell of a fatal trifecta he had amassed.

And because I stroked his ego, I was the lucky candidate to assist him on this trip.

“Did she ask where you were going?” Damian asked as he walked up the steps to the Sekt’s private jet.

A brand-new Bombardier Global just for him to use. Dropping seventy mil on a jet was nothing, and because I already came from money, shit like this didn’t blind me.

“She did.” My response was curt.

I sat on the other side of the alley from Damian and looked utterly unimpressed. I mean, why should I be? I grew up with money my whole life.

“And?” I could hear the frustration in his voice.

I smiled at him, knowing the bastard hated me. Yeah, he thought I looked up to him because I stroked his ego, but the truth was he just wanted to keep me closer. He hated that money didn’t impress me. Without the Sekt, I was still Bastian motherfucking Kingsley, and I had my throne if I so much wanted it. Most of all, he hated that I was so free with my sexuality, and I flaunted it in front of him to provoke his trauma.

“I would never betray you. The Sekt comes first. She trained me, but she does not own me.”

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