Page 95 of Beautiful Scar

“Please, Tigran. That’s enough.” She tugs me, pulling me back.

I want to keep hitting. I want to feed the monster inside and watch Serge die under my fists.

But Dasha doesn’t want that.

And even though there’s a howling, hellish monster screaming for bloody murder gibbering in my skull, Dasha matters.

She’s the little bit of light left in my otherwise rotten soul.

“Come here,” she says, and I let her draw me away from him.

I take her into my arms. I kiss her, smearing blood on her lips and face. She doesn’t seem to mind. I hug her close and have to take a moment to calm down. The bloodlust is fading, leaving only a bitter, acidic taste in my throat.

Her father groans, only somewhat conscious.

“I’ll spare him,” I say, even though it goes against everything that I am. “Only because that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Tigran.” She kisses me again, smiling, angelic and perfect. My beautiful wife. The mother of my child. “I know it’s not easy, but thank you.”

She’s right, it’s not fucking easy. If she weren’t here, I would’ve stomped and punched until Serge was a corpse and my knuckles were bruised and broken.

But with her, I don’t have to be a monster.

I can be better, or at least I can let her steer me in a new direction.

“You will never speak to your daughter again unless she decides she wants to hear from you.” I nudge him with the toe of my boot. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he hisses, spitting more blood. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Dad; that’s why you’re not dead.” She crouches down at his side and brushes some of his bloody hair from his face. He’s wheezing and can’t move, but his eyes are lucid at least. “You felt bad, didn’t you? That’s why you let me stay at home for so long. You felt guilty for letting Seamus live.”

“I failed you,” he whispers.

“Yes, you did,” she agrees and steps away. “Get yourself cleaned up. Go home and don’t come back. You won’t be a part of my baby’s life.”

“Dashenka,” he says, groaning in agony.

“Don’t call me that anymore.” She turns her back on him, looking so glorious and strong. I’m half hard as my blood pounds in my ears. “Goodbye, Dad.”

She leaves the room.

Fucking God, that woman is glorious.

I watch her go, oozing with love and respect, basking in her glow.

Then I look back at her slug of a father.

“Regardless of what she says in the future, if I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

He manages a nod.

Then I leave him alone to fucking rot before one of my men tosses him in a car and takes him back to his shit-infested city.

Dasha’s waiting for me in the hall with tears in her eyes. I grab her by the hips and pull her into me, kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her scar.

“I will do what he couldn’t,” I whisper, swearing it with my heart and soul. “I’ll avenge you and Vito. Seamus will die, and he will die screaming. I’ll tear the city apart for you, and I won’t stop until he’s gone.”

“I know you will,” she says and looks up at me. “That’s what I’m so afraid of.”

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