Page 102 of Vitaly

I don’t know how he’s going to kill me, only that it’ll be brutal. The white says it all.

That or it’s supposed to be some sort of wedding dress mockery. Or both.

Nikita is so fucked up.

A single guard stands next to me, holding my bound wrists. The lone guard speaks to how little of a threat they believe I am. ThatNikitabelieves I am.

For some reason, that hurts.

Movement draws my eyes to the guard’s hand covering the mic in his ear. After a few moments, he drops it and looks at me.“Walk.” He shoves me forward before I have a chance to obey the command. I keep my shoulders squared even as my legs feel heavy and numb.

I don’t know if Vitaly is alive or dead. That’s the worst part of this. They won’t tell me.

They won’t tell meanything. I can guess that I’m walking to my death, but I can’t know who I’m joining in the afterlife, and that feels unbearable.

Nikita is waiting for us in the hallway outside the ballroom entrance. He’s leaned against the wall with a smug look on his face I get the intense urge to claw off. My hands tug uselessly against the rope.

“Hello, Mila,” he says when we reach him, his hands tucked into his pockets. He nods at the guard who then removes his gun from his holster. I furrow my brow, thinking there’s no way my death could ever be that easy, but all the guard does is place the gun in a large bin outside the entrance before locking it up and handing Nikita the key which he slips in his pocket. The guard shoves the door to the ballroom open. Voices grow louder and then quiet as the door closes.

I turn my head to glare at Nikita. My lip twitches with a curl I try not to show just before I lift my leg to kick him in the groin, but he sees it coming. He catches my calf and yanks me into him before flipping us to flatten me against the wall, knocking the wind from me.

His knee slots between my legs, and he pins me to the wall using one arm pressed against my chest. His nose to my ear, he inhales then lets out his breath slowly and dramatically. I squirm at the feel of his breath tickling my ear.

“I’m gonna miss you, ???a.”

I struggle against his arm. “Oh, go fuck yourself… If you’re going to kill me, kill me, but stopmockingme.”

He pulls back, his head tilted. “You don’t believe me?”

I gather saliva, but before I can spit, he covers my mouth. Shaking his head, he tsks. “You and your boyfriend both.”

Fight drains at the mention of Vitaly, and I feel my eyes widen slightly as blood drains from my face. I wait for him to go on, even if it’s just to tell me all the sick things he’s done to Vitaly. I have to know. I have to know if he’s alive.

With a sly smile, Nikita removes his hand. “I’ve always had a soft spot for you, ???a. How can you not see that? I gave you your own room.”

My eyes narrow. “You forced me to kill my father. You ordered me to be killed. You…” I pause, taking in a shaky breath before baiting the hook. “You killed the man I love.”

His lips spread, but his grin doesn’t look cruel like usual, more like he’s amused. Like he sees right through my attempt.

“See? There were more times than you realize that I thought it’d be best if you were dead. If I’d killed you myself, we wouldn’t be here, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even watch. That proves something, doesn’t it?”

I deflate at his response. I don’t give a fuck what I mean to him. Or what he thinks I mean to him. He’s fucking certifiable. I just want him to tell me if Vitaly is alive.

“And don’t mourn your father,” he says, his face twisting with disgust. “He came to warn me about your shifting loyalty, as if I didn’t already know. I did you a favor, allowing you to be the one to kill him. IwishI could’ve been the one to kill mine.”

“I’m notyou,” I say, my breath barely above a whisper. “You’reinsane. You killed your own nephew.”

He smiles at that. His shoulders lift and fall as he sighs. “Okay, Mila, I’ll throw you your bone… He isn’t dead yet, but it isn’t good news, I’m afraid.”

I flinch when Nikita pushes hair back from my face. “He’s going to have to watch you die very painfully first… I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t call me that,” I spit, whipping my head away from his touch. I throw daggers while my chest fills with emotion.

Vitaly isn’t dead.

Heisn’tdead.

Yet.

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