Page 116 of Destined for the Devil
The words echoed in the room. Loud. Deafening.
Thetruth.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It was an accident! I didn't mean to do it!" Sergei's cries filled up the space between us three, and my mind wentoffline.
My world was crumbling into pieces.
"I only wanted to fuck her! But she resisted! Like always! And I…I—I'm so sorry, Roma! God, I'm so sorry!" His wails intensified, and I was losing all vision.
"I want you to...” Kirill leaned in closer, his expression serious like never before. “Start from the very beginning, Serezha. Tell me exactly what happened. Don't miss any details." Kirill spoke reassuringly while I was planted to the floor.
Sergei couldn't say any words. He couldn’t calm down, but Kirill waited a second longer before lightly tapping Sergei’s cheek with the barrel of his gun. "I'm waiting.” TheTsarreminded him. “Start from the very beginning. What was Lena doing there that night? Whose car did they all jump into? How did Natasha die? You have ten seconds to start speaking." Kirill calmly cocked his gun and placed it to Sergei's forehead.
The sound clicked through the office like a last warning.
Sergei shot his eyes open, urgently beginning his story. "Lena helped me.” He nodded quickly. “I’d known her for years. She was always around; I just never brought her over.” His voice shook, but there was no holding back now. “I told her she and some other girls should join me at a hotel and we could all fuck, and she…she gladly agreed." Sergei gulped, his breaths fast, his panic palpable, the barrel of Kirill’s gun still in between his eyes.
"I told her exactly who to bring. We discussed it. She got Natasha drunk and convinced her and two others to get into the car I arranged.”
Fear radiated off Sergei in a suffocating wave, but he kept talking, killing me with every passing second.
“They all came to my suite, but I didn’t want anyone. I only wanted Natasha.I onlyever wanted Natasha…” He sniffled so pitifully, snot and blood glistening on his filthy face.
Kirill didn’t move, watching Sergei intently, and I blended in with the background, convinced that I was already dead.
“But she began sobering up!” he wailed. “I spiked all their drinks and knocked out Lena and the other two, making sure they thought I was taking Natasha down to the lobby so she could go home since she told them she didn't want to be there. But I didn't..." Fresh tears accosted him, and Kirill nodded, encouraging him on.
"I…I fucked—” he paused suddenly, thinking about his words. “I raped her,” he whispered instead. “She fought me, so I held her down. I choked her to keep her in place, but it was—it was too much, and I…I accidentally strangled her." Sergei swallowed hard, his one open eye staring at Kirill, not believing his own admission. "It was an accident,” he added weakly. “I was drunk, and I...I didn't realize right away what I did."
I was no longer in the room. I was no longer alive, not breathing, not seeing, not feeling anything around me. It all twisted into a white-hot haze until I felt Kirill’s large hands clamp down on my shoulders, pulling me away from Sergei, who was now on the floor, still tied up to the chair.
"Uspokoisya, uspokoisya.” Kirill spoke quietly in Russian, telling me to calm down and dragging me away from Sergei, my feet desperately trying to kick his face in.
With alarming speed, the contents of my stomach climbed up my esophagus, and I vomited, all the pain and betrayal only more pronounced in my body from the act.
The truth was here now, and it broke me down intonothing.
I lay prostrate on the floor of my office beside my own vomit—Sergei on the other side of it, still tied to the chair, sniffling and crying. Kirill looked down at us, shaking his head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Kirill pick up Sergei and check his restraints. As calmly as ever, he sat back down in front of Sergei andspoke gently again. "Now. Tell us about Isla."
Sergei shook his head frantically. "I swear,I swear I don't know where she is!I swear I didn't touch her! I'm sorry I threatened her, but I'm telling you the truth! I didn't touch her!"
There was…something in his voice, something foreign, something I hadn’t heard before. Sincerity.
Kirill considered it quietly. Then, without a word, he reached down and ripped the dagger out of Sergei’s thigh, promptly driving it into his upper arm with brutal force.
Sergei’s screams bounced off the walls, but they meant nothing to me now.
“Fuck! Roma! I s-swear! I didn’t touch her!” His voice raw, he addressed me in a plea. Kirill watched him. "I didn't take her! I havenothingto gain from it! I'm sorry I killed your sister, Roma! God—I’m s-so sorry—but I didn't touch your girl! You have to b-believe me!"
No one spoke for what felt like hours. I was on the floor, unable to move, Sergei whined and cried in pain, and Kirill still sat in the chair, his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
Finally, Kirill sighed. "He's telling the truth,” he said flatly. “But that doesn't help us figure out where she is."
"I'll…I'll help, " Sergei croaked out, bleeding and depleted. "I'll help you find her, Roma, please…please just don't kill me,” he begged like a pathetic and dying predator. “Don’t kill me…and don't touch my kids."
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