Page 72 of Beautiful Beast

The sounds of gunshots fill the air as Carlos’s guard and James go at it. I glance behind the desk and spot Carlos hiding behind the crate of guns. I can just make him out. With a look to my right, I see Sergei crouched behind a pole.

Neither Sergei or Ivan are going to get their hands dirty. That’s fine by me. I love fucking people up.

James is behind a pole, too. Every so often, he’ll dart out to fire at the guard, who does the same from across the room.

I catch James eye and nod in the direction of Carlos. He nods back. I know he’ll protect me in case Carlos’s guard tries anything with me.

I stay low as I make my away across the room toward the gun grate. A bullet whizzes by me, but I spread my body to the floor. James keeps a steady fire of gunshots in the direction of the guard.

I hurry the last few feet to the gun crate and grab Carlos from the other side. I press my gun to his chin right as he presses his gun to my stomach.

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” I observe.

“All you had to do was give me the money we agreed to.”

“I never agreed to it.”

“You did. When we spoke on the phone, I said I want five million, you said, ‘mm-hmm,’ that we’d meet up, and then you hung up. That’s an agreement in my eyes.”

“I never agreed to it, you fucking bastard. If I had, I would have said, yes, five million it is. But I never said that. You’re trying to trick me out of money, and I won’t have it.” I dig my gun harder into his chin. “Now, I have the advantage. Yes, you could shoot me in the stomach, and there’s a good chance it would kill me. But not right away. Whereas with you, I’m fairly positive a gunshot to your jaw would kill you within seconds. So, why don’t we drop the gun?”

At that moment, James lands a killing blow to the guard’s head, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“You’re on your own,” I say. “You know it. I know it. So, just give us the guns, and you can get out of here.”

“If you kill me, you’ll have the Cartel to deal with.”

“Maybe. But I’m the fucking Bratva. I have power. I own this city. You don’t. So, Carlos, what’s it going to be?”

His eyes flick around the room and land on his dead men. For a second, I think he might cry, then he huffs and composes himself, lowering his weapon.

“Smart choice.” I whip him across the face with the butt of my gun, and he sprawls to the ground unconscious.

“James, check on the guns,” I call out. “Sergei, bring Ivan to my personal doctor. Dr. Bailey. James, give him the address.

“What are you going to do?” Sergei asks, helping Ivan stand up.

I smile down at Carlos, who groans as he rubs his swollen face. “I’m going to have some fun. It’s time I let off some steam.”

Bending down, I pull out my knife and begin to carve a line from Carlos’s lips straight up to his eyes. His screams fill my soul with contentment. This is the meaning of pure happiness. When someone is completely at your disposal, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

Anya would be disgusted by what I’m doing. Good thing she’s not here. I may feel fucking guilty about giving Nadia back to Sergei, but I’ m not going to let my wife completely change who I am.

I’m fucking Erik Koslov, and I’m the boogeyman.

Sergei freezes before the open door, Ivan leaning against him. “Uh … Erik?”

I stop carving Carlos’s face and stand up. “What?” Carlos whimpers as blood gushes from his cut.

“We’re not alone.”

Two figures walk into the warehouse. Brothers. One redhaired and the other black-haired.

Aiden and Finn Murphy. The two Irish hitmen Dante hired to threaten me.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” I ask, striding forward. I motion to James, who understands my signal. He walks beside me and pushes Sergei and Ivan behind him.

“We heard you were buying guns from the Cartel to use against Dante,” Finn says. “Dante told us to come here to stop you.”

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