Page 81 of Vicious Addictions

And then I remember… someone—Pavlin.

A shiver rakes down my spine when I recall the vengeful glint in his dead eyes.

Damn it.

Somehow, one of his men in the warehouse must have alerted him that it was being raided. I wouldn’t be surprised if he drove there and waited on the sidelines to see if we made a mistake he could exploit. If I hadn’t been in a rush to go home, then I wouldn’t have given him the perfect opportunity to kidnap me.

He knows that his life is on borrowed time with his Pakhan.

What better way to ensure he keeps breathing than handing over to his boss the only daughter of his greatest rival, all wrapped up in a tidy little bow?

I don’t have to wait long for him to make his presence known.

A door creaks open somewhere behind me, heavy footsteps echoing across the empty space in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if he’s savoring this moment for all its worth. After the hell the Firm has given him these last months, he’s taking his time to relish his win over us.

When he steps under the light and into my line of sight, I see his ugly face.

The dim light does nothing to soften him. His pale face is as gaunt as ever, his haunting expression carved from nightmares. However, it’s his gashes that I put all my focus on—two deep slashes running down his cheek, still looking raw and angry as the day they were put in there.

I concentrate on those gashes because they serve as a reminder that Pavlin lost a battle once. And though he might be celebrating now, I’ll ensure he loses this one, too.

I wish I did those myself.

Who knows?

Maybe I’ll get the chance to add a few more to his face before the night is over.

Pavlin tilts his head to the side, studying me like some fascinating specimen trapped under glass. Then, without a word, he lifts a fist and drives it into my stomach. Pain explodes through me. My body jerks against the chair, a strangled gasp ripping from my throat as all the air rushes out of my lungs.

“So nice to see you again,Petal,” he says, his usual posh British accent now replaced by his thick Russian one.

I grit my teeth, lifting my chin despite the fire spreading through my ribs. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, nor give him reason to think he intimidates me.

“I wish I could say the same,” I rasp with a smile.

Pavlin smirks, crouching down until we’re at eye level, his breath reeking of cigarettes and stale liquor.

“Don’t worry. I think we’ll be much better acquainted by the time we’re done here.”

My fingers curl into fists.

I don’t know how this will end. But if he thinks I’ll break easily, he’s in for a surprise.

“That will be a hard pass for me.”

I flinch back when his knuckles graze over my swollen eye, the cold of his rings rubbing at the tender part of the wound.

“There, there now,?b?tok.There’s no need for you to be frightened of me,” he says with an ungodly smile drawn to his lips. “This will all end soon enough.”

“You talk too much. Good thing I know how to shut people up,” I sneer at him. “Untie me, and I’ll show you.”

This time, I get a slap across my cheek for my troubles instead of a punch.

“Such insolence.” He scoffs. “Such disrespect. Tell me,?b?tok,didn’t your father teach you to respect your elders.”

“The only thing my father taught me was that respect isn’t free. You either earn it or end up paying for it. Touch me again, and I’ll teach you which side of the spectrum you’re on.” He laughs, the sight of his flashing teeth making my skin crawl.

“What a feisty flower you are. It will give me immense pleasure pickling your petals one by one until your bravado is no more.”

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