Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 118410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Moving my head left and right, I tried to ease the tense muscles there. I rubbed my forehead in frustration and leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table.
“You are right. He is definitely good. But he can’t stay hidden forever,” I said.
“But the longer we take to find him, the more damage he is causing!” Viktor retorted.
“We will find him.” Even though I appeared calm, I was anything but calm. The anger coursing inside was indescribable. I was going to make him pay. Severely. Bloodily. He was lucky that I hadn’t found him yet. He got an extra few days to live.
Phoenix opened his eyes and stared at me. His lips parted and he was about to say something but the door banged open and Nikolay came rushing in.
He was panting, his eyes wide with shock and his face twisted angrily. Everyone stared at him in surprise, including me.
Pushing my chair away, I stood up. That was the first time I ever saw Nikolay so tense. His chest heaved with each breath he took. Sweat formed on his red face, veins bulging in his forehead and neck.
“He is dead. The motherfucker is dead,” he snarled through his gasps of breath.
My forehead creased in confusion and I cocked my head to the side in question. Nikolay swallowed hard before answering my unvoiced questions.
And his answer was like a gunshot right through my heart.
“Alfredo is dead.”
“What did you say?” I asked, punctuating each word carefully.
“Alfredo is dead.”
“Fuck,” Viktor growled.
Rage built like deep water currents inside of me. It came out faster than magma but just as destructive. My body was vibrating with it.
Alfredo was dead.
He was dead and it was not me who had killed him.
I didn’t get my vengeance.
I felt empty as the rage consumed me. My skin was scorching and I grew hotter until it felt like I was suffocating. My vision blurred with my fury and all I saw was my mother’s lifeless eyes.
Muscles tensing, neck stiffening and back stretching, I roared, “Damn it!”
I leaned forward and pushed everything off the table, shards of glass flying everywhere. I kicked my chair against the wall and paced.
I was supposed to take his life! His blood should’ve been on my hands! I had to avenge my mother.
But now…
Every muscle in my body was twitching, itching, and on fire.
My hands tightened in fists, so hard, so tight that my knuckles started to hurt and my hands slowly went numb. I gripped my hair and pulled.
“He was mine to kill!” I roared before punching the wall, creating a deep hole. The drywall bent with the force and the paint came off as I pulled my bleeding fist back.
I felt a hand on my back and I swiveled around, wrapping my hand around the person’s neck. Viktor stared at me blankly, waiting for me to calm down. My fingers tightened slightly but his expression still didn’t change.
I released his neck with a snarl and pushed him away. He stumbled back, but quickly gained his footing again.
“Don’t fucking touch me. I won’t be held responsible for my actions,” I growled before taking a menacing step toward him.
Viktor straightened his back before turning toward Phoenix and Nikolay and nodding at the door. They left without a backward glance. When the door closed with a bang, I sagged against the table.
There was too much fury coursing inside of me. I had to release it before I completely lost it.
Shrugging off my suit jacket, I removed my tie and pulled at my collar to loosen it. I ran a shaky hand over my face.
Looking down at my hands, I slowly clenched them into fists, my knuckles cracking. With a frustrated sigh, I walked to the door and opened it wide.
The hallway was empty and my hard steps echoed as I walked downstairs to the gym. My sight was on the punching bags. Without a second thought, I landed a punch on the bag, my bare knuckles hitting it with a crack.
I didn’t know how long I kept at it. Punching. Kicking. Roaring in anger with each punch and kick. My knuckles were bleeding, the skin torn apart. My fingers were hurting and a crippling pain went through my hands and arms, but I kept going.
The pain. It felt good. I needed it.
I heard the door open and stopped in mid-swing. Placing my hand on the punching bag, I stopped it from knocking me down. Hissing through gritted teeth, I turned around to look at the intruder.
Viktor walked forward, his steps slow. I stared at him closely, following his movement with unflinching eyes.
When he stopped a few feet away, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Viktor took his suit jacket off and threw it on the ground before rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, showing the tattoos that covered the length of his arms.