Serge straightened in his seat, and I saw Alik smile. I knew that smile. That sadistic smile. And I hated that it was directed at Serge. My kind old Serge.

“No, Serge, please just do what he says,” I begged.

Serge’s eyes set with resolve. “I can’t, Miss Kisa. I could never live with myself if I let anything happen to you. You’re… you’re like the daughter I never had.”

A tear trickled down my cheek as I began to plead with him, but Alik didn’t give me a chance as he aimed his gun at Serge’s temple. I opened my mouth to shout out, but Serge met my eyes in the mirror and he shook his head no. He was saying goodbye.

A second later, Alik pulled the trigger. Serge slumped forward, dead, and this time I did scream.

In no time at all, Alik jumped out of the car and opened the back door. “Get the fuck out,” he ordered, and heart struggling to beat despite the shock of Serge’s violent death, I moved to the door, but Alik groaned, leaned in to grab my arm, and wrenched me forward. “Fucking move!”

Crying out once more, Alik dragged me toward the apartment, unlocked the door, and pushed me inside.

I blinked and blinked, trying to take in the room. It was sparse, only minimal furniture—a ragged couch, a small kitchenette, and a bed. My stomach rolled when I saw the sheets were messed up, used condoms on the bedside table… but that wasn’t what had me recoiling in shock. No. That honor was bestowed upon a clearing at the left side of the open space. A clearing covered in plastic sheets… plastic sheets stained with blood.

“Alik,” I hushed out. “What is this place?”

I felt Alik’s warm body at my back, and he gathered my hair and pushed it over my left shoulder. His mouth moved to my ear. “My sanctuary. Where I can be the man I am. Not the one I’m forced to be out there.”

“And… and what man is that?” I asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He pressed kiss after kiss along the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Every part of me was tense. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t screaming at me. This quieter Alik was too unnerving.

“Free,” he replied, making me jump.

My eyes drifted to the unmade bed, and I felt sick. “You fuck women here?”

Alik’s lips froze and in seconds I was spun round by his hard grip on my biceps and slammed against the nearest wall. His harsh stare bore into mine, cold and unfeeling.

“They’re not you, Myshka. They were whores. You’re my woman, my whole fucking life.” Darkness clouded Alik’s crazed red eyes and he leaned so far forward that the back of my head ground against the hard wall. “At least you were. Until you fucking betrayed me. Opened your fucking whoring legs.”

Alik’s voice was quiet, too quiet, the softness deceiving. His head twitched and his jaw ticked as he lifted the Beretta and ran it down my cheek. He suddenly looked broken, completely devastated.

“How could you, Myshka? How could you fuck that cunt, baby? How could you let him into what’s mine?”

“Alik—” I tried to speak, but Alik moved the gun over my lips, shaking his head as his other hand wrenched up my dress and cupped roughly against my pussy.

“Shh, Myshka,” he whispered. “You betrayed me. You opened your legs to that fucker Raze. You made me angry. At you, Myshka. You hurt me. The only one who can keep me calm, the only one who gets me.”

I shook my head, my breath coming too fast. “No! Alik!” I protested and tentatively lifted my shaking hand to rest on his cheek. As soon as my palm met his skin, his eyes closed and he took a deep breath, his head nuzzling into my flesh.

“Baby,” I whispered, needing to keep him calm while my heart thundered to the point I thought it would fail to function from over-exhaustion. “I know… I know what you did… to Rodion… to Luka…”

Alik’s head stilled in my palm and his gaze darted to mine, the whites of his eyes unusually bright. Then, eyes narrowed, he said, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tears blurred my vision and my bottom lip quivered. “I know… I know it was you who killed Rodion… I know your papa ordered you to kill him so you could be the heir to the Pakhan.”

Alik’s nostrils flared and his lips set into a tight line. “Really? You found this out?” he asked, his thoughts unreadable through his indifferent tone.

Swallowing, I said, “And you framed Luka, stabbed yourself in the stomach… and your papa faked Luka’s death.” I saw the flinch in Alik’s eyes, and my heart skipped a beat.