Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Another tear slipped down her cheeks, and she choked back a sob. “You can see them hurting. Bleeding. They can’t walk afterward. Their little legs would tremble and they would fall down.”
Bringing her hand up, palms facing upward, she showed me her trembling hands. “I held one of them in my arms. I held him tight and told him it was going to be okay. Until he took his last breath. He didn’t survive The Game. I can still smell his blood, Konstantin.”
I brought a fist to my lips, holding back my enraged roar. Her words inflicted pain in my soul.
“We are put in cages, shackled, and then paraded around. We are used in front of others—all our innocence taken away, in the open for the ringmasters to see.”
Gripping my hair in frustration, I closed my eyes. I felt sick, and despair filled me until my body was cold and shaking with rage.
The motherfucking Kingpin.
I was no saint, no savior, no angel. Heaven had long forsaken me, and Hell was probably scared of me. I walked into the shadows of the Devil. I killed for a living. I breathed the life of the underworld, I lived a life of crime and evil, and I was tainted through my bones.
I have done way too much bad shit to ever be forgiven for them, but raping kids? Stealing their lives and their innocence in the cruellest way possible…
I was no saint, but those bastards didn’t deserve to fucking live.
Motherfucker. Anger rolled off me like crashing waves.
Irina choked back her cries of pain. “I was twelve when I was bought the first time. Fifteen for my second buyer. And then seventeen when Valentin saw me and bought me. He is my third buyer, and I am now twenty-one. I should be dead or discarded by now—maybe he’ll sell me soon, looking for newer flesh to brand. I am too old for The Kingpin. I’m just waiting for my final moments, but Valentin doesn’t seem to want to let me go. He has branded me. Again.”
My eyes snapped open to see her turning around, giving me her back. I walked closer and she moved her chopped hair out of the way. And there it was.
A brand. It looked fresh and brutal. The skin was marked and burned. From the look of it, I knew it was made from a heavy branding iron.
I winced at the sight, almost feeling the pain they must have gone through—having their skin branded like this.
“I never saw this. How did I never see this on you?” I whispered, my finger feathering over the raised, scarred skin.
She flinched away and turned to face me. “You never paid attention to me. You never saw me. It was faded, anyway. It had been years since they branded me. But two weeks ago, Valentin branded me again. He wanted his mark to be visible for everyone to see.”
Her words were a gunshot to my heart. She was right. I never saw the truth because I never saw her. I never looked closely to see what was inside. Her suffering. The torment she lived through.
“Back when you were living in this estate, Valentin wasn’t visiting me as much. I guess his attention was on someone else. I was free for the littlest time. I wasn’t wearing my shackles or my collar. That’s why you never noticed anything—the reality behind the mask,” Irina mumbled. “I saw you and I thought, maybe, just maybe, I could feel some gentle touches. For once.”
“I used you. Just like Valentin did,” I croaked through a heavy lump in my throat.
At that, Irina smiled and shook her head. Her tiny hand wrapped around mine, and she squeezed. “After living in this world for so long, I can tell the difference between a good man and a bad man. I can tell whose heart is tainted and whose is just darkness.”
I can tell whose heart is tainted and whose is just darkness
Powerful words that could bring any made man to his knees.
But she was wrong.
I was both tainted and darkness. I was a whole lot of fucked-up-ness. If only she knew…
“You are not a bad man, Viktor. That’s why I let you touch me. For the briefest moment, even if it wasn’t the best fantasy, I still felt a gentle touch. I know it wasn’t me you were touching. I know you were thinking about someone else when we were together. I know you wished I were someone else, but I let myself believe for a moment.”
“How did I not see this? How did I not know? I should have fucking known!” I snarled before pulling away and punching the wall viciously. I looked at the torn skin over my knuckles. I didn’t register the pain; everything was just so goddamn numb.