The Mafia and His Obsession, Part 2 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

 

Viktor

 

Valentin’s death tasted sweet on my tongue, and it soothed my enraged soul. I wanted to stay and watch his body burn into ashes. I wanted to see the end of him. Another exploding sound resonated through the walls of the estate, and I knew time was running out.

I backtracked, taking two steps away from the corpse in front of me. He’d never be able to hurt my Valerie again. I have avenged my woman in the only way I knew how.

Deep inside, I wished Valerie could see what I’d done to Solonik. She’d see his body burning, and maybe that would give her peace. But there was no way I’d put her in the path of danger.

“Viktor, we need to go.” Yegor’s urgent voice broke through my thoughts.

I nodded, giving Valentin’s flaming body a final glance. “Let’s go. I need to get the girls.”

They were probably worried and scared shitless. I should have told them what to expect, but I didn’t want to take any risk. It was easier leaving them in the dark till the end.

“I have your back,” Yegor said reverently.

I clapped his shoulders in gratitude without actually saying the words. I knew he had my back, and he knew I was fucking thankful for it. None of this would have been possible if I didn’t have Yegor walking side by side with me.

We left Valentin’s body behind and descended into chaos as soon as we stepped foot out of the room. People screaming—the smell of engulfing flame and burning flesh—loud gunshots.

The passage for us was clear until we turned toward the left wing of the mansion. Ah fuck.

I was going to enjoy this a bit too much.

Valentin’s men came toward us with a frenzy. Yegor and I were in sync as we took them down. I guessed they figured it out—all along, the real enemy was me.

Blood was spilled and bodies lay lifelessly on the ground, piling up as more men came toward Yegor and me.

Chaos and then dead silence.

We stood in the middle of a bloody path, and I walked over the dead bodies. From the corner of my eye, I saw another man coming my way, alone and with no other back-up. He must be suicidal. Yegor got him before he came even a few feet close to me.

His punch sent the man sprawling down on the ground and he pressed his blade into the dirty bastard’s neck. “Don’t kill him.” Yet.

I stalked closer, the need to spill blood still running high through my veins. Yegor released a mocking chuckle when the man started to struggle.

His eyes widened when I stopped in front of him. His split, bleeding lips parted and he started to beg for his life. Was I an asshole for laughing? Yes, I was.

Did I care? Definitely not.

I loved it when they’d begged. I loved watching their life fade away from their eyes, knowing I had the power to play God. Life or death. I held their fate in my hands.

The man tried to pry himself free from Yegor’s grasp. But you couldn’t really escape the devil’s grasp now, could you?

Once you’d been marked and targeted, your survival clock started moving.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Yegor gripped the bastard’s neck, holding him still for me. My lips quirked up, watching this person shake and beg for mercy. Except I had none to give.

Call me the Angel of Death. I only come when I am bringing your demise with me.

There was no time for penance and salvation. Destruction bled red, and I’d always barged in with chaos at my heels.

Adrenaline thundered in my veins, the blood pumping harder through my body, roaring in my ears. It was almost deafening, and all I could focus on was…this weak human.

Gripping his face with my gloved hands, I made him look into my eyes. Look straight into the eyes of death.

He started to struggle harder, but Yegor brought one leg up and kicked the back of the man’s knees. He fell to the floor, kneeling in front of me.

I crouched down. No words needed to be said, because he already saw his life flashing in front of him.

Still…

His lips curled up in disgust, and he spat at my feet, a lone tooth falling from his bloodied mouth.

“Fuck…you…Ivanshov dog,” he wheezed with each labored breath.

Fear masked his expression for a brief second, but he wanted to anger me, his last attempt before his last breath.

I tsked darkly. “Ah. You shouldn’t have said that.”

Pulling out my sleek blade from the inside of my coat, I showed it to him. He swallowed hard, and I could almost smell his fear. I wanted to place a bet. Would this one piss himself or not?

Pressing the cold metal to his cheek, I let him feel its sharpness. “I was planning to give you an easy death. Not anymore, though. You fucked up,” I said, slowly dragging the blade down his neck where his pulsing vein lay.

His chest expanded with a breath and then exhaled. I put the knife back where it belonged, inside the pocket of my jacket. The expression on his face changed to confusion.

“You have nice eyes…”

Yegor scoffed back laughter at my words, and I…smirked. “I am sure, once upon a time, you were very prideful of them. Bet they got you lots of tight pussies. Got the girls swooning, huh?”

His grey eyes widened, finally realizing my intent. Without giving him another chance to struggle, my gloved hands came up to his face, my fingers diving right into his eyes. Blood sprayed out, and he screamed, his body convulsing with agony as I curled my fingers around his eye sockets. I felt the ball of mush and squeezed it. He was howling now, his face contorting every time I’d dragged my fingers over the ball of fragile muscles.

I leaned forward, my lips close to his ear. “Never, ever disrespect the Ivanshov name.”

His cries filled my ears as I pulled my fingers from his eyes, dragging out his eyeballs at the same time.

Yegor let go of him and the man slumped onto the floor, silent now, but his body was still twitching with little tremors and ticks. Blood pooled where his head laid on the ground, and I stood up, swiping my mucky hands onto my pants.

This was why we wear black. No mess.

“Less than twenty minutes left,” Yegor muttered, his cold voice breaking through my hazy thoughts. “We need to get to Valerie and Irina fast.”

I nodded silently. Time to get my girl and then we were getting the fuck outta this place.

My heart felt heavy in my compressed chest the longer it took me to get to her. I was fighting on adrenaline, pushing past through the barrage of guards, Solonik’s soldiers, and assassins, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind me.

I grew unfeeling toward the screams of pain. The copper scent of blood was strong, but I thrived on it, breathed it in, and let the little fucking devil on my shoulder feed on the smell of death.

There was a bellowed scream. I turned around to see a man standing two feet away, pointing his Glock in my direction, his barrel aimed at my chest. I pointed my own gun at him and pulled the trigger but nothing happened…FUCK.

The world stilled.

The bastard grinned and a gunshot echoed through the wall. My eyes widened and the world grew dark. I expected a fiery pain, but then I was being pushed to the ground. It happened too fast and my eyes only caught a blur as a solid body slammed into me. My head hit the wall and my vision grew hazy for a second.

The fucker who shot at me was on the ground too, writhing. I heard a gurgling sound coming from his throat. The heavy weight on my back brought me back to the present.

“Viktor.”

The voice was rough and pained.

Yegor.

Fuck! Holy shit!

I struggled from under his body, where he had covered me, and he rolled on the ground. Yegor’s eyes were clenched shut and the palm of his hand was pressing flat over his chest. No. No. No.

Dark red blood seeped through his fingers and coated his shirt. Blood of my enemies did nothing to me. I killed with a passion. My favorite fucking pastime. It’s child play for me.

But blood on my family—my brothers—it made me lose whatever sanity I had left.

He slowly opened his eyes, and once he saw that I didn’t get shot, he looked almost relieved.

“Not…okay…” he wheezed. “Probably pierced something important…inside…me…”

Panic welled in my throat, and my body grew heavy. I fought the tremors running through me, but the chill spread through my spine, taking all the heat out of my body.

Shock and adrenaline made it hard to think for a moment.

“Not…gonna make…it, Boss.”

His words snapped me back to where I needed to be. I shrugged off my suit jacket and pressed it over his wound. Fucking shit. He was bleeding too much. “Put pressure on it,” I hissed.

“Nah…”

If possible, his mocha skin grew paler. His dark eyes were deep and a bit hazy. He was trying so fucking hard to keep his attention on me, fighting to stay alive, fighting for his next breath.

His chest expanded as he took in a shuddering breath. “Honored…to work on…your side, Viktor.”

FUCK!

“Don’t speak, Yegor. Don’t. Fucking. Speak. Save your strength.”

I looked around me, the mass of dead bodies now mocking me. No escape. No help. No fucking escape from his motherfucking hellhole.

Yegor grasped my hand with his bloodied one. His hand was shaking, but he saved the last of his strength to squeeze my hand. The back of my eyes pricked, and I wondered if they were tears.

Yegor was a man of honor.

A trusted soldier.

A beloved brother.

“One favor…I ask only one favor…” he breathed and then coughed. Blood started to gather at the corner of his lips, and he spat it out.

“Name it,” I said, my heart weighing heavy.

“I want to die as an Ivanshov. Not with the name of the traitor attached to me.”

Yegor was a Solonik but loyal to the Ivanshov family.

I knew what he needed.

“Give me peace,” he muttered.

This was Alessio’s job. The King decided who carried his name. Very few people had the honor of that. Only family.

I took out my dagger, the emblem of the Ivanshov family on the handle. Taking his palm in my hand, I made a tiny cut in the middle. “With this blood, I honor you with the name Ivanshov.”

I kept it short, but the job was done. He was now one of us.

Yegor chuckled and then hissed, pain masking his expression. I handed my dagger to him, the same one Alessio gave me when we turned eighteen years old and he took over as Boss and I his second in command. This dagger held too many memories—a dagger of loyalty. Yegor wrapped his fingers around the handle, clenching it tight. He nodded, looking relieved and at peace.

“I am sorry, brother.”

“Nah…knew this…would happen one day…”

My throat seemed to close, and I tried to say something. My lips parted, but I couldn’t find my voice. “You…need to go,” Yegor struggled to say. He patted the gun on his side. “I’ll cover your back.”

He hoisted himself into a sitting position and slumped against the wall, his blood now smeared on it. “No motherfucker is gonna get through his hallway without me shooting their brains out.”

I believed him.

Yegor would fight until his last breath.

Once a made man, there was no out. You died living this life. Born into darkness or later brought into the Underworld…death followed the same fucking way. Through the darkness, a never-ending pit.

Lives were made with a lot of choice. And what we chose…it defined our path.

Like me…my choices brought me here.

Like Yegor…he knew, one day…his choices would lead him here.

Reluctantly, I stood up. My back straightened, and I inhaled then exhaled.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “For being the best right-hand man I could ever ask for. I trusted you, and not once have you ever betrayed me. Your loyalty will always be remembered, and you will always be honored.”

He grinned, his white teeth now a bit bloodied, a contrast to his dark skin. “We did it, Viktor. The bastard is dead. Now, get your woman out of here.”

Motherfucker.

Emotions clogged my throat, and I nodded. “Thank you,” I mouthed one final time. He raised his gun, waving me away, and smirked.

That was the last image of Yegor, and it was deep ingrained in my memory.