Page 93 of Beautiful Beast

All I see is red. Red, red, red. I need to protect Nadia. Nothing else matters.

Until Nadia herself puts her hand on me. “Anya. What did you do?”

I blink, and the room comes into focus. Alek, lying in a heap on the floor, bleeding out. Small groans escape him, telling me he’s alive.

For now. But he won’t be for long.

I drop the glass. “Shit.”

“What are we going to do?”

I answer as honestly as I can. “I have no fucking clue.”

“Is he dead?” she whispers.

Alek grunts again and extends his hand out to me. “No … I don’t think he’s dead.”

“You should get Erik. He’ll help you. He’ll protect you, won’t he?”

“I just stabbed one of his men in the throat.”

“He’s my father’s friend,” Elena whispers from the bed. I whirl around to look at her, having forgotten she was there for a moment.

“He’s Ivan’s man, then?”

Elena nods as her eyes dart to Alek and back to me before burrowing back under the blanket.

“That’s even worse,” I whisper. “Erik won’t be happy with me if I ruin his relationship with Ivan.”

“So, what do we do?” Nadia asks.

“This isn’t your problem. Nor is it Elena’s. You should leave. You don’t want to be a part of this. Let me handle it. I’ll tell Erik what happened, and …”

“And?”

“And hope he forgives me.” And that he doesn’t try to torture me again. Not when we’ve been making progress. Not when he convinced my father to bring Nadia tonight just so I could see her.

I can’t ruin what we’ve been tentatively building.

“I’m not leaving you,” Nadia says, taking my hand in hers.

“Nadia—”

“No. You’ve stuck by me. You stabbed him because he hurt me. You’ve only ever tried to protect me. I’m standing by your side, Anya.”

“I have to get Erik. Stay with Elena. Unless … bring her to my room. She doesn’t need to see Alek, and I don’t want you guys to be alone with him.”

“Um … I’m not sure that’s going to be a problem any longer.” She nods towards Alek, and I turn to look.

And find that he’s dead.

No more grunting and groaning. No more reaching out for help. His eyes are wide open and lifeless.

“Shit,” I whisper.

Nadia bends down to grab the broken champagne glass, but I stop her.

“Don’t. It has my fingerprints on it. It doesn’t need yours, too. Come on. Elena shouldn’t have to see this.” I don’t think Nadia should have to see this either, but I don’t think she’ll appreciate me saying that right now.

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