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I don’t know how much time passed as I stood there staring at Maximillian’s lifeless corpse, but I could hear my name being called. I blinked back into focus and turned to see my brothers standing behind me. Their expressions were stoic, no shock or disgust over what I’d done, or hell, how I was covered in the blood of my enemy.

I hadn’t tamed the brutality that had come from me and covered Maximillian. It had been five years of anger and pain of not having her by my side. I’d taken out my rage on this piece of shit, the anger I felt toward Petrov, the fact that she was almost forced to be with someone else.

I’d become a primal animal in need for blood, and Maximillian had given me that tenfold.

And as I felt the world slip away, my consciousness fading, I watched as if I were in a tunnel as my brothers went to work on cleaning up the massacre, unhooking him from the rafters to let his body fall to the floor. I wanted to move but felt rooted in place, my heart beating strangely even, calmly. It was as if I were not myself.

I blinked a few times and brought myself back to the moment.

“The woods,” I finally said, and they all looked at me. “We’ll take the fucker to the woods and bury him. Bury him in a lot of fucking pieces,” I finished. And after that, I’d clean up, go to my woman, and be with her in every single way. I had to.

I needed that connection with Nadja now more than anything.

31

Nadja

The sound of thunder, of rain pelting against the house, was loud. It drowned out my own beating heart. It was a companion in a dark moment, in this situation where I didn’t know where reality started and the opposite ended.

I hadn’t been able to sleep, not with how things had played out, not when I knew what Frankie planned on doing. So here I was, sitting on the couch, staring at the wall in the darkened living room. My mind was blank, emotions fading as I just tried to remember to… breathe.

I was afraid, scared of what this meant in the long run, how it would shape Frankie if it would make him climb deeper into himself and become darker.

I worried so much I felt sick from it.

And then I heard the sound of the gate opening, and saw the flash of headlights start to come up the driveway. I shifted on the couch and stared out the window, seeing Frankie’s SUV, my heart racing, my hands shaking. I stood just as he pulled to a stop and cut the engine, the headlights turned off, and everything was plunged into darkness.

I all but raced to the front door, punching in the code to the alarm system—the one Frankie made me memorize before he left. Once I got the beep from the alarm that meant it was disengaged, I unlocked the door and all but ripped it open. The rain was vicious, the wind whipping the water back and forth. I felt the cold, icy stings of it move along my body, but my focus was on Frankie. He took his time walking around the front of his SUV, his head lowered, his entire frame soaked.

He made his way up the walkway to the front door, and only when he was a few feet from where I stood did he lift his head. His step faltered slightly when he saw me. His dark hair was plastered to his head, this haunted look covering his eyes.

My heart ached, my stomach clenched, and I said nothing as I took a step back and he entered. I slowly shut the door, closing off the weather, the moonlight, and trapping us in. This iciness clouded everything, but I felt this heat consume me. I didn’t want to ask what happened with Maximillian. I knew.

I felt it.

I could still smell the blood coating Frankie, even though there wasn’t a drop on him.

I sensed the death coming from him.

He stood there and stared at me, the rain dripping off the ends of his dark hair, his head slightly downcast yet his eyes locked on me. The shadows surrounded him, making him seem ominous, but I knew he’d never hurt me.

“Frankie…?” I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to ask about tonight, about if Maximillian was dead, even though I already knew the answer. But before I could have said anything, Frankie was stalking toward me. I backed up, the door stopping me. He was a foot from me, his body so big, so intimidating.

I felt like a mouse about to get devoured by a lion.

The longer he stared at me, the more I saw an array of emotions pass across his face.

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