Page 112 of The Devil's Wrath

He approached me slowly, like a cat toying with its prey. I struggled against my restraints, but they held fast, the metal biting into my skin. Igor stood before me, looming over my helpless form.

“He will come for me,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to project courage I didn’t feel. “And when he does, you’ll regret ever laying a hand on me.

Igor let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I’m counting on him coming. That’s the whole point, you foolish girl.” He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from mine. “But by the time he gets here, you’ll be nothing but a broken shell of yourself. And he’ll have no choice but to watch as I destroy everything he holds dear.”

I met his gaze head-on, defiance burning in my eyes. “You underestimate him. And me.”

His hand shot out, gripping my chin painfully. “Everyone has a breaking point,” he said, running his finger down the front of my body, pausing to grab my breasts. “And I’m going to enjoy finding yours.” He unhooked me from the chair and dragged me to the basin, pushing me down to my knees. His grip tightened on the back of my neck, pushing my head closer to the water’s surface. The cold metal of the basin pressed against my neck, and my terrified reflection stared back at me.

His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he leaned down next to my face. “Shall we begin?” he asked.

With a sudden shove, he plunged my head into the icy water. The shock hit me like a thousand needles, stealing the breath from my lungs. I thrashed against his hold, but his grip was unyielding, and I had no leverage with my hands restrained behind my back. Just as my vision began to blur and darken at the edges, he wrenched me back up, gasping and sputtering, gulping in desperate breaths.

He watched me with a sadistic grin, relishing in my suffering. “Do you not remember me,krasivaya devushka?”

“What can . . . I say . . .? You’re easy to . . . forget.”

His eyes darkened with malice. “Wrong answer.” He shoved my head back under the water, holding me down longer. My lungs screamed for air as I struggled futilely against his iron grip. Again, black spots danced in my vision before he yanked me back out. My lungs burned with each ragged inhale, my body trembling from the cold and the terror coursing through my veins.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “You think you’re so brave, don’t you?” he sneered. “But I see the fear in your eyes. You’re just like all the others—weak, pathetic, and easily broken.”

I glared at him through the wet strands of hair plastered to my face. “I’m not . . . afraid of . . . you,” I lied. “You’re nothing . . . but a . . . coward.”

His face contorted with rage, and he slammed my head against the edge of the basin. Stars exploded behind my eyes as pain radiated through my skull.

“I’ll show you who the real coward is,” he growled.

“Go to hell,” I rasped.

He dragged me back to the chair and shoved me down, securing my arms and legs with rough rope. I winced as the coarse fibers bit into my skin, rubbing it raw. He traced his finger along my jawline, and I jerked my head away in disgust.

“So defiant,moya dorogaya,” he mused.

He picked up a pair of pliers from a tray of tools. The metal gleamed dully in the dim light. “Your father was defiant too . . . until I killed him and your whore mother.” The pliers clamped down on the tip of my index finger, the pressure increasing until a scream tore from my throat, echoing off the dank walls. Pain exploded in my hand as he wrenched the nail from its bed, blood dripping onto the grimy floor.

He killed my parents.

“You . . . you killed my parents?” I whispered.

He smirked, relishing in my anguish. “Oh yes. Your father was a stubborn man, refusing to humble himself and work with my brother. Selling women is a good business deal. But your father thought he was better than us. His whole organization thought they were better. A bunch of self-righteousublyudki! And my brother will not be humiliated by the likes of an American.”

“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done.”

He laughed. “Empty threats from a helpless little girl.” He tossed the bloody nail aside and selected another finger. “You have spirit. I’ll give you that. But it won’t save you. Or your precious Theo.”

I clenched my jaw, steeling myself for the next onslaught of agony. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream again. As the pliers closed around my middle finger, I bit down hard on my tongue, tasting blood. A muffled groan escaped my lips as he ripped out the second nail. The pain was excruciating, radiating through my entire hand and up my arm. But I refused to give him what he wanted. I focused on the image of Theo’s face in my mind, drawing strength from the love and memories we shared. He and this baby were my anchors—my reasons to endure.

Igor didn’t stop. He watched me with cruel amusement. “Impressive,”he mused, dropping the bloody nail onto the tray with a soft clink. “Most would be a sobbing mess by now, begging for mercy. But not you. You’re a fighter, aren’t you? I can see why Theo loves you. Why your parents fought so hard to keep you safe.”

I glared at him, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Theo will make you pay for this,” I rasped.

He chuckled as he wiped his hands on a stained rag. “Yes,krasotka. Your prince will come charging in to save his damsel, and then I’ll have you both exactly where I want you.” He leaned in close, his nose nearly touching mine. The stench of his breath made my stomach churn. “But he’s going to be too late to save you from what I have planned next.”

“You seem to have quite the hard-on for my fiance,” I scoffed, hiding my pain behind my laughter.

He straightened and picked up a knife from the tray. “You know, the night I ran your family off the road, I watched you twirl around like a little minx at the ball. You even danced with me once, too high on a pedestal to realize who I was behind the mask. I complimented you on your dress and laughed as I realized your parents and the rest of The Brotherhood had no idea they had a fox in their chicken coop. I followed you, running your car off the road before your father knew what happened. I watched as they died in that crash, and you and your brother would have met the same fate if it weren’t for Theo and his friends. The whole Morgan Dynasty was almost wiped out in one fell swoop. But then I watched him carry you out of the wreckage—how he looked at you at the ball that night and again when he saved you. They write stories about things like that. So imagine my delight when I realized The Brotherhood had sent theirGhostto seek revenge.” He pressed the cold blade against my cheek, tracing a line down my jaw. I held perfectly still, not daring to move. “I could have killed him that night,” he continued. “But where would the fun have been in that? No, I wanted him to suffer. To cut pieces of him away bit by bit until I broke his soul. He may be a ghost, but even ghosts can bleed.”

Bile rose in my throat as Igor recounted the night that haunted my every waking moment, the night that had shattered my world into amillion irreparable pieces. Hot tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I refused to let them fall.

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