Heart of My Monster (Monster Trilogy #3) by Rina Kent

She.

Right. The name I wrote on her grave indicates that Sasha was a woman and my wife.

The wife I couldn’t fucking protect.

Viktor took the time to explain the complicated situation to my family members.

Me? I don’t give a fuck what any of them thinks.

I don’t even give a fuck about the future anymore. I used to see patterns, paths, and courses of action. I used to be motivated by all the goals I had yet to crush.

Now, I only see fucking black.

I spent my whole life carefully building a house of cards, but Sasha’s death has caused it to fall apart.

Karina throws her arms around my waist and squeezes the living fuck out of me. “If I feel this way, then it must be worse for you. She was always with you and…you married her so…so…”

I grab her by the shoulder and push her away. Nausea rises in my throat at the reminder of the last hug Sasha gave me.

And I refuse to let anyone else take that memory.

My wife loved this cheesy shit. She loved hugging me and trying to comfort me. She also loved singing and kissing. But then she left and took away her hugs, her smiles, and even her infuriating arguing.

The idea of being hugged makes me want to stab myself in the fucking gut and watch as my blood pours out.

Tears stream down Karina’s cheeks. “I just…I just wanted to console you.”

“Don’t. I need no such thing.”

“You…really don’t?”

“I really don’t. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Fuck you, Kirill! How can you be perfectly fine after she died? She dedicated her whole life to you! The least you can do is fucking mourn her properly, you fucking asshole!” She punches, claws, and slaps my chest.

I don’t stop her. I don’t have the energy to do anything.

My sister cries and curses me all the way to the moon and back as she lets out her anger and frustration on me.

I feel nothing.

Absolutely fucking nada.

“Kara!” Konstantin rushes inside and pulls our sister away.

She thrashes and kicks the air, her tear-streaked eyes throwing lasers my way. “Let me go! This asshole is not even pretending to be affected. It’s like six years ago when we begged him to stay, and he just gave us his back like a psychopath, Kosta! He doesn’t care! He never cares! Even if the person who protected him with her life died because of him and all the shit he stirs up!”

My jaw clenches. Karina doesn’t notice it, but Konstantin’s eyes harden as he shakes her. “Shut it, Kara. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about! Look at him being all nonchalant after coming from God knows where. He doesn’t want to talk about her. But I will, every fucking day! I will remind you of the girl who protected and loved you but only got death in return!”

I reach an open-palmed hand to her face and nearly crush it in my hand. She finally shuts up, her eyes widening.

I don’t recognize the calmness in my voice when I release her. “Get the fuck out of my face before I do something I will regret.”

Her chin and lips tremble. A sob leaves her throat before she runs up the stairs, her sniffles lingering behind her.

My brother watches me with a furrowed brow.

“You have something on your mind, too? I can’t guarantee your safety if you piss me the fuck off, so how about you disappear instead?”

“Never mind Kara.” His voice is too fucking gentle for my liking. “She’s too sheltered for her own good, and you know she’s never been able to read the atmosphere.”

“And you can?”

“Not when it comes to you, I’m afraid. But I’m starting to learn.”

His eyes soften, and I’m so ready to punch him square in the face if he starts to pity me, but that expression doesn’t come. Instead, I’m staring at a version of my brother I thought I’d lost.

A long time ago, when Yulia would decide to take him on a picnic or to some show, he’d hide in my room just to spend as much time with me as possible.

I’d ruffle his hair and tell him to enjoy whatever she was taking him to for the both of us. That’s when he’d look at me with the same expression he has now.

I thought it was only sadness. Maybe discomfort, but now I realize it’s a form of longing.

Konstantin always wanted to be with me, but Yulia happened, and that became impossible.

He releases a breath. “In case you didn’t know, you’re the hardest person to read, and that’s saying something considering I’ve known you all of my life. No matter how much I try to analyze your actions, I can’t find an explanation for the way your mind works. I can’t tell whether you’re truly a psychopath who doesn’t feel or you just have no fucking clue what emotions are and, therefore, can’t express them. I remember when we were young, you loved Kara and me more than anyone else, but that part of you disappeared, and you became…this. Whatever this is.”

“If there’s a point behind your tedious speech, you should’ve reached it by now.”

“I know you still care about Kara, and possibly me.”

“I didn’t realize you were adding delusional to your repertoire of words.”

“I know you do, or you wouldn’t have made my marriage with Kristina happen.” He grips my shoulder. “Which is also why I know Sasha’s death is affecting you more than you show. You were always the type who looked eerily calm, even after you came back from Roman’s torture sessions. You’ve been either on a violence spree or in this pretend calm mode, so I’m assuming you’re suffering inside or bottling your pain or both.”