A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 13

Miran had been waiting in his car for the past ten minutes. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he glanced at the gate in front of him.

He stared in the rearview mirror at the same two SUVs still following him. Typically, they followed his every move, but they never approached him. He hadn’t heard from either Alexander or Alexei since the day of the wedding. Even though he still spoke on the phone with his parents, he didn’t have any contact with the rest of the Bratva.

They were quiet. Too quiet.

Miran knew in his heart they were planning something major. That’s what they did. He’d been told in the past by his father how he had found his mother, Roza. They waited it out, and he didn’t doubt it all that they were waiting for the right moment to strike again.

A secret attack was their best chance of winning and taking Lada back.

He just didn’t know when it would occur. Usually, by nightfall, he led the trackers down a different route when he would return home to the beauty.

It helped that he could use a siren on the highway, and they couldn’t. It helped him get away faster.

Lost in his thoughts, his eyes flew to the gray gate opening.

A tall man exited from the prison.

Chris Walker stepped out of the prison, and he was fucking smiling.

Fury ran through Miran’s body, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. His eyes followed the man’s every movement. Walker hopped into a taxi nearby, and Miran put the car in drive and followed behind. He wasn’t sure where the man’s destination lay. As per his rules, the man was no longer welcomed in Sanctum. He stayed in the shadows of other cars, driving silently for a few minutes, still trailing the cab.

The cab stopped into an urban, small, quiet neighborhood and he slowed down. Walker stepped out and headed to the right sidewalk, hopping onto the green lawn, and moving into a two-story white house. Once he was inside the house, the light turned on.

Miran rested a hand on his chin, his eyes falling on the paint peeling off from the gray fence. Maybe it was a friend’s house. This wasn’t the address listed on Walker’s file. He glanced in the rearview mirror, the trackers were fifty feet away.

Parking his car, he stepped out and made his way to the house.

He rang the bell twice before Walker answered.

Miran only stared stonily at the man who’d changed into a white t-shirt and black shorts. Walker’s face reddened, and he gritted his teeth, “What are you doing here?” Then, he politely added, “Chief.”

Instead of replying, Miran asked, “Is anybody else home?”

Walker's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No… my girlfriend is at work.”

Girlfriend? Who the fuck wanted to date this piece of shit?

Setting his jaw, he pushed the man into the house and locked the door behind him.

Then, he struck a punch.

Chris stumbled back into the white kitchen, his back hitting the table.

“W-what? You can’t just barge into my house and hit me!”

Miran pulled out his gun. He smirked when Walker’s eyes followed the movement.

“I am so getting a lawyer. I’m going to sue you!”

“Go ahead.” Miran aimed the gun at him. “Step into the living room.”

Walker’s feet were frozen to the spot, and two seconds later, his feet moved in hasty, jerky movements. Miran followed behind him silently.

Once they were inside the cramped living room, Miran ordered, “Stand against the wall.”

Taking in his surroundings, the dark peach walls were covered in casual paintings. His gaze fell on a dent in the wall. Focusing his gaze on it, his face formed a tight grimace before returning this gaze to the culprit.

“You thought you could touch her and get away with it?”

Walker stared at him in disbelief and buried his hands into his hair. “I can’t believe this. I was released! You can’t do this to me. You’re doing all this for a girl, throwing your life on the line? You’re the Chief!”

Miran only ignored him as his eyes went down to his bad knee.

“Stand on your left leg only.”

Walker shook his head like a lunatic.

“Do it otherwise you will end up with another bad knee.”

Frightened, Walker’s body trembled as he stood on one knee. He grunted in pain and tried to use the wall to stand.

“No support,” Miran murmured.

Walker’s eyes flashed, and he sneered, “You are misusing your power! This is illegal.”

Miran tried hard not to roll his eyes.

That was the same thing Enzo Vitalli had said too.

“Stand for five minutes, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

Walker’s head dropped low before he curtly nodded. Holding in a flinch, he tried to rise on his knee again. His pale face reddened by the second, and his breathing was growing heavier. In less than two minutes, he collapsed against the wall and clutched his knee with a groan.

“Shit, I-I can’t… It hurts too bad.”

Miran shoved his gun into his back pocket, grabbed the man’s collar, and lifted him high. The man was close in height to him but less muscled. Walker tried to shove him, but Miran only gripped his collar tighter and stared him dead in the eye.

“Tell me why you agreed to be a witness to a crime of a bank robbery,” he questioned, “but you decided to commit a heinous crime of your own.”

When Walker didn’t reply, he seethed out, “Why?”

Miran tilted his head as he studied him.

Walker refused to meet his eye and stared at the floor.

“She was blind, huh?” he sneered.

Walker’s gaze flew to him, and that’s when he realized. Disgust filled his face. “That’s why you did it.”

The man began shaking his head and sputtered out protests, “I did nothing!”

Miran dropped his collar and clocked him right in the face. Walker groaned, and his head flew back in surprise. Miran hit him again, and Walker fell back against the wall.

“How many times have you done this before?”

“Stop!” Walker protested between mid-punches. “You can’t do this. This is wrong!”

It was a shame people remembered morality when they were a victim of a crime and not the perpetrator.

“She’s a blind, ugly whore, man! What is wrong with you?”

Miran gritted his teeth and grabbed the man’s jaw, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Her surname is Sokolova. Do you know that’s she’s a daughter of a deadly Bratva mobster?” Walker’s eyes looked like they wanted to burst out of his sockets. “Imagine if her family knew that you tried to touch her. They would place all of their bullets into your fucking brain.”

“I didn’t touch her! You have no proof!” Walker still protested and tried to block his attacks. He reached out to hit, but Miran blocked him and twisted his arm behind his back. Walker yelped and protested again.

“Do you know how many bones are in the human body, and which one’s hurt the most when broken?” Miran demanded.

Walker’s face turned chalk-white as a ghost, and he quieted.

“What about teeth?”

He let go of Walker’s arms and punched the man again, hitting him right in the mouth. Something crunched under his knuckles, and the man gurgled blood out of his mouth. A white tooth dripping with blood fell onto the white carpeted floor, staining it.

“She is not a whore,” Miran seethed out and punched the man again.

Breathing hard, adrenaline rushed through his veins as he turned the man’s face into a purple pulp. Walker tried to block his attacks, but Miran’s training outweighed his.

“She is a Goddess, and when I am done with you, you will refer to her as that.”

Metallic blood dribbled down Walker’s chin, falling onto his white shirt.

Miran paused. “She had a scratch on her neck. Which hand did you claw her with?”

Walker’s eyes widened, and he sputtered out protests, “I didn’t! No!”

Miran glared before reaching behind his back for his pistol.

The man’s hysterical eyes followed him before giving a defeated sigh. “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot! I’m right-handed. It was my right!”

Miran dropped his hand and leaned down and picked out the pocketknife that was tucked in his shoes. He popped it open, and a silver blade gleamed under the dimmed yellow light. The blade was sharp like it could cut through glass. Walker cowered against the wall and huddled his shaky arms around himself. Watery brown eyes met his as they begged him silently to stop, but they did not affect Miran’s hardened, merciless heart.

Walker breathed hard and said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t have touched her if I had known she was yours.”

Yes, she is mine.

Bringing the blade closer to the man’s face, he spoke calmly, “Yes. You shouldn’t have, but you shouldn’t have laid a finger on her in the first place.” His eyes dropped menacingly at Walker’s right hand before he asked, “Which finger?”

Walker’s eyes filled with water, and he began bawling, “No… No… Please, you can’t do this.”

The word was a dangerous place, and maybe Miran was worse. He lived a civilized life, and he bent the laws. Rulebreaker. Lawbreaker. Maybe he was, and he would break the law again if anyone harmed Lada Sokolova again.

If the law couldn’t protect her, he would.

“I don’t like to repeat myself. If you don’t tell me which finger, you will lose a hand,” Miran spoke calmly.

Walker closed his eyes shut before he exclaimed, “How am I supposed to know that? I don’t know!”

Miran reached for the man’s right hand and gripped the wrist tightly. He met Walker’s eyes, and then, without breaking his empty gaze and in a quick movement, he sliced an index finger from the hand. He stepped back quickly before the gushing blood could splash him. He dropped his hold, and the finger fell to the floor.

Remorse and guilt were missing from his heart as he stared at the dismembered finger.

He had no mercy on this man’s soul.

Walker screamed in agony, and it hurt Miran’s eardrums, but his pain didn’t faze him. The man clutched his fingerless, bloody hand close to him. Tears rolled down his face, and he gritted his teeth.

“How could you do this?” Walker groaned. “You are so cruel! Oh my God, it burns!”

Lowering his gaze to the man’s hand, he replied, “Sometimes, you learn the hard way, cruelty is another form of justice. Besides, you still have the rest of your hand.”

Walker shook his head in disgust and hysterically accused, “You’re the Chief, an agent of the police force. How could you be so evil?” He whimpered, clutching his bloody hand to his chest.

“When the justice system fails, you do evil things to protect those around you,” Miran smirked wickedly, “But you wouldn’t understand. You’re selfish, and you target helpless civilians.”

Walker sobbed and leaned his back against the wall, wrapping his shirt around his bloody hand.

“You will tell everyone you had an accident. If you open your mouth to anyone and tell them the truth, I’ll come back again.” Miran crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, who is Lada Sokolova again?”

Chris Walker’s red-rimmed eyes fell on him before he replied quietly.

“A Goddess.”

Pleased with the response, he turned around to leave.

He took a step back, but he heard a scoffing voice from behind.

“I didn’t even get to fuck her. If I knew this was going to happen, I would have done way more. All of this because I fucking scratched her.”

Miran’s legs froze, and the hair on the nape of his neck stood up. Holding in a disappointed sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck before turning around slowly. Eyeing the man’s fuming, bawling face, he stepped around again.

“No.”

Surprise replaced the anger in Walker’s eyes.

“It wasn’t just a scratch,” shaking his head, he sneered, “This is for those tears in her eyes that I saw. This is for the pain you caused an innocent, blind woman. This is for taking advantage of her situation when she came to you for help. This is for the trauma you caused her. The wounds inside that nobody can see. You are the reason she fell. She could have died.”

Walker’s mouth dropped, but he didn’t say a single thing.

“This is for taking something that didn’t fucking belong to you,” Miran growled.

He picked up his blade and slashed it through the air, cutting off Walker’s right hand in a quick movement. He didn’t step back in time though, and the metallic blood splattered on his face and shirt, staining him. It was too late for regrets now. The body part fell off and rolled onto the floor, joining the dismembered finger.

Walker screamed again and dropped to the floor. Blood dripped from his mouth as he gurgled. His face was turning paler by the second, and his frightened eyes met Miran’s.

“Y… you only said a… finger.”

Miran smiled coldly.

“You never specified.”

The man stared up in shock.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Miran held the man’s eyes.

“I’ll bring the world to ash for her.”