Page 92 of Beautiful Beast

“You’ll take this drink?” He holds out the champagne.

“I will.”

“Then take it.”

Slowly, I take the drink from it and hold it against my body. The glass is sweaty from where he touched it.

“Drink.”

I take the smallest sip possible.

“That’s not a drink.” He ambles toward me, and I press my hand onto his chest to keep him back. Nadia gasps while Elena tries to bury herself into the bed.

“Hey,” I say in a low voice. “I’ll drink more, ok? But I’ll only drink more once we go downstairs. So, let’s go.”

There’s a tense, quiet moment when Alek doesn’t move a muscle.

Then he speaks. “I’m good right here. I want you to drink. In fact, I want everyone to drink.”

“They’re not going to drink. They’re too young.”

“Technically, so are you.”

“Alek, why are you doing this? Let’s just go downstairs and forget any of this happened. Ok?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to have to tell Erik you forced yourself into this room with me in it. You shut the door. You wouldn’t let me leave. How do you think Erik will take that?”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“You’re trying to force me to drink when I don’t want to. Erik won’t take that lightly. Do you want me to tell him?”

“No,” he says in a ragged voice.

“Ok, then, let’s just leave this room. You and me. It’ll stay between us.”

He’s so close to me, breathing on me. I get a whiff of his breath—it’s clear he’s had a few drinks.

“I can’t go down there. You’re going to tell Erik, and I can’t have that.” He grabs me by the arm and shoves me to the side.

“Anya!” Nadia shouts. Elena whimpers as she hides underneath the blanket.

“You can’t tell Erik,” he growls.

“Alek, you’re only making this worse for yourself. You know that.”

“You can’t tell him.” He grabs my arms and slams me against the wall. The champagne spills out of the glass, soaking the wood floor.

“I won’t tell him. Ok? Just let me go.”

“Let her go!” Nadia says, smacking his arms. He spins toward her and backhands her across the face. Nadia falls to the floor.

And all I see is red.

My body reacts on instinct as I smash the champagne glass against the wall. It becomes a jagged weapon. I slam it into Alek’s throat, and he grunts and stumbles into the wall.

I scream as I rip the jagged glass out of his throat. Some of his blood sprays onto my face. Alek grunts as he slumps to the floor.

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