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

“The DNA test was a perfect match. I suppose you falsified it so your careful plot would drive me up the fucking wall.” The fact that I didn’t double-check the DNA results makes me want to strangle the me from two months ago.

“I…didn’t falsify anything.”

“Maybe your damn brother did.” I can’t believe I didn’t see the Yuri angle coming.

According to Maksim, Anton Ivanov switched places with my guard after his ‘accident.’ Yuri didn’t want to join me and the others when I decided to go to the army, so I found it weird that he caught up to us later. However, it wasn’t weird enough to suspect him since a few other men did the same.

I’d barely noticed him before. He was incompetent and slow. But after he followed us post-accident, it was like a different person had come along.

Turns out, that’s exactly what happened.

He fooled me in the sense of his loyalty, but for some reason, I always kept him at arm’s length, compared to, say, Viktor or Maksim. I liked his plans, but I always made my own tweaks before I employed them.

I also never sent him on solo missions or let him in on the Belsky Organization investigation I assigned Viktor with.

Maybe I didn’t suspect him, but something inside me was wary of him. For all the right reasons.

He’s good, though. Not only did he manage to fool me, but his own sister and best friend didn’t know either.

Now, I need to decide how to deal with the motherfucker.

The trickiest part is that he’s related to Sasha, and I can’t exactly kill him and still have her.

“No, he didn’t,” she says to my earlier statement. “We barely had time to plant the corpse. How could we falsify the DNA when we were in Russia?”

Hmm.

Interesting.

Since she has no reason to lie, that means someone else did it.

Namely, the one who got in bed with the Albanians to plot her death. If the person who did this could plant the DNA test so effectively, that means they might be a lot closer than I thought.

Now, I have to rip their hearts out and watch as life leaves their miserable eyes.

The nerve of making me believe she’d died.

The fucking audacity.

By the time we arrive at the house, I’m boiling with a flood of rage.

At Sasha for daring to leave.

At the fucker who must’ve been watching from the shadows as I slowly decimated into the abyss of nothingness.

They must’ve been laughing as their plan came to fruition.

I hope they’re also watching now as I bring Sasha back. I won’t look for them. Sooner or later, they’ll let their true colors shine through.

Sasha opens the door with more force than needed and jumps out as if she can’t stand being with me in the same space for another second.

Fuck that.

I refuse to believe that she forgot us in the span of two months.

Unless she never really loved you, and she really did have a lover that she went back to.

I shut down that sadistic voice and step out of the car. The moment I stand, dizziness takes hold of me, and I slam against the side of the vehicle.

Did I overestimate my ability to not bleed out? Probably.

Sasha rushes in my direction, then stops at the last second and clenches her fists as if recalling that she shouldn’t be caring about my well-being anymore.

“Can’t keep it together?” She inserts as much venom as possible in her words, but it sounds strained, fake.

“I might die,” I say with a fake groan.

“Good. Less evil in the world.”

“Will you cry for me if I do?”

“No.” She lifts her chin. “In fact, I might celebrate.”

“You look adorable when you say things you don’t mean.” I touch her cheek with the backs of two of my fingers, and she freezes. I freeze, too, as a rush of chaotic emotions stabs me in the chest.

It’s a mere touch, but it’s enough to kill all the dark thoughts I had after I saw her fake corpse.

For the first time in months, I breathe fresh air.

For the first time in months, I feel everything.

She’s here.

She’s mine again—even if she’d argue otherwise.

Her wide eyes fill with fire, and she slaps my hand away. The gesture stings more than the hit itself.

If it were any other time, I’d grab her by the throat, tie her up, and fuck her for the insolence.

But considering the circumstances, I let it go.

For now.

“Don’t touch me.” Her voice drips with tension.

“You’re awfully terrified of my touching you. Have you noticed that?”

She shoots me another glare, which seems to be her modus operandi today, then storms to the house.

I’m about to follow when my phone vibrates. It’s Viktor.

It takes me more effort than needed to answer. “Status.”

“All cleaned out. We’re keeping Anton—aka the fake Yuri—under surveillance. Should we torture him for answers?”

“No. He probably won’t talk.” And I don’t want to lose points with Sasha if she finds out I’ve been beating her brother up.

“Maksim wants to guard him personally.”

Hmm.

There’s been something different about him ever since he came back from Russia. It’s like his soul was crushed, and he struggled to put himself back together again.