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

“If you’re done being an amateur therapist…” I rotate my shoulder, forcing him to release me, and sidestep him to head toward the stairs.

“You need to get your shit together, Kirill!” he shouts after me. “You’re the Pakhan now, and your head is worth more than ever before.”

“Save the concern for your wife.” I don’t look at him as I take the stairs up.

He’s been subtly trying not to be all disgustingly lovey-dovey with her whenever I’m around. Even Kristina refrains from any form of PDA in my presence. They’re both walking on eggshells around me as if I could be broken by seeing them acting like husband and wife.

To be fair, I did contemplate shooting them in the head whenever I saw them smiling at each other. It’s not them. It’s the sense of fucking doom I have whenever I witness others being happy when that feeling has been wiped out of my life for good.

I didn’t know what happiness meant until I slept like a fucking baby in Sasha’s arms. There were no nightmares, no thoughts about the future.

Just…silence.

For the first time in forever, I had a break from my brain and just felt.

Now that the feeling is fucking gone, I want to confiscate everyone’s happiness, crush it to pieces, and bathe in its blood. I need to turn their worlds as black as mine.

Yulia crosses my path, lifts her chin, and pretends she doesn’t see me. She’s the only one who hasn’t tried to talk to me, and I’m glad she hasn’t or else we’d have a murder on our hands.

I might have some tolerance for Karina and Konstantin, but I’d strangle that woman to death if she ever brought up Sasha’s name.

I’ve had the staff move my clothes to another room near the office. My old room is now locked with a key, and I told Anna to keep it and never give it to me.

My movements are mechanical as I remove my clothes and step into the shower. I watch the blood washing off me, mixing with the water, and disappearing down the drain.

Could I disappear as easily?

No. Not yet.

I still haven’t found the motherfucker who ordered her death.

This isn’t fucking over.

Torturing Roel didn’t empty my thirst for violence. My rage remains powerful, tucked under the surface, waiting for another outlet.

I close my eyes and rest my head on the tiles as the cold water beats down on me.

Soft arms wrap around my waist from behind, and warmth clashes with the freezing water. Her small hands stroke along my sides and pectoral muscles as she lays her head on my back. I feel her lips on my nape, kissing me gently.

I want to turn around and look at her, but if I open my eyes, she’ll disappear.

She always does.

So I twist the wedding ring she slipped on my finger the day she said, ‘I do.’ I’ve been wearing it since I saw her body in the back of the ambulance. My hand feels heavy, though, like it weighs a ton now that hers doesn’t wear her ring.

“You need to sleep, Kirill.” Her soft voice carries in the air like a fucked-up melody. “Your body will eventually give out on you.”

Sasha sounds so worried in my imagination. She always was. There were times when I thought she went over the top to protect me, but it wasn’t until after she was gone that I realized it was her way of showing her affection toward me.

She proved in actions more than words how much she loved me.

I will remind you of the girl who protected and loved you but only got death in return!

Karina’s words stab me in my bleeding heart.

“If I die, will I be able to join you?” I whisper in the silence of the bathroom.

“What are you talking about? You were born for greater things, not to die, Kirill. You’re the Pakhan now. Isn’t that amazing?”

“No. What’s the point of being Pakhan if I couldn’t protect you?”

“You always had your priorities straight, and I was never at the top.”

“That’s not fucking true!” I whirl around and curse under my breath when her warmth disappears.

Fuck.

Disgusted with my own skin, I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my middle. It doesn’t matter that I changed rooms. She’s everywhere. Her soul clings to every corner and every fucking person in this house.

But maybe that’s not a bad thing.

If her ghost fucking haunts me and blames me for her death, I’ll still welcome it.

At least she’ll be here.

I put on another suit and head to my office. The door opens as I snag a bottle of Macallan from the minibar. I don’t bother with a glass and drink straight from the bottle.

My throat burns, but it does nothing to squash the constrictive weight on my chest.

Viktor stands across from me, and I motion at the minibar. “Have a drink.”

He doesn’t move a muscle. “Boss. You really need to sleep.”

I lean against the cabinet, legs crossed. “Any news about the lead we got from Roel’s computer?”

“No. It’s a dead end. We suspect the sender to be from outside the country.”

“Russia, for instance.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I am.” I swallow a long sip and wince slightly at the sharp taste. “I have a feeling that the Belsky Organization had something to do with her death. She admitted that she initially came to New York to spy on me—or, more accurately, on my father—but she eventually gave up on that and chose to stay with me. There’s a huge possibility that they got rid of her once they figured out she’d switched camps.”