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His eyes drift from mine to Belsky, and his jaw hardens. “Your husband was kind enough to invite me to witness this great event.” He bows his head in the direction of Donnacha. “And it’d be an honor to see the great Donnacha Quinn in action.”
“You’re going to do more than just watch, kid,” Donnacha says, kicking a large silver box across the floor. It comes to a skidding stop by Mak’s feet. He pins him with a challenging smirk. “If you’re up for it, that is?”
Mak startles. “Really?”
“You said you wanted to kill him.”
“I do,” he murmurs, face dancing with excitement. “I really fucking do.” He crouches to pop open the box, revealing an arsenal of sharp objects designed to do some serious damage. In the background, Belsky’s scream melts into a gargle.
“Wait.” All eyes land on me. I tear myself away from Donnacha’s intense gaze and take a few steps toward Belsky. I stare into the cold, dark pits of his eyes. I never thought this day would come. Not when I was a frightened fourteen-year-old girl with no hope of a normal future. Hell, not even a month ago when I was in his office, his fist wound into my hair, his coffee and candy breath burning my cheek as he told me I was to take advantage of Donnacha Quinn making me his wife and kill him.
I can feel Donnacha behind me. Hear his heavy breathing. See his shadow on Belsky’s bloodied features.
“Your father would be so disappointed in you,” Belsky rasps, curling his lips back in disgust, revealing the gashes along his gumline where his perfect teeth used to be. “You’re the final nail in the Bratnov coffin.”
For a moment, I do nothing but stare at him. Donnacha takes this as fear and puts a protective hand on my shoulder, but I give him a small, reassuring nod and turn back to Leonid Belsky. I drink in his sharp cheekbones and his cruel eyes. I used to think he was the most powerful man in the world, and I’d never escape his clutches. But now I see him for who he truly is.
He’s the Devil, not my husband.
Fuck the cautionary tale. The nuns were wrong all along. I wasn’t a sinner. I was a young, naïve girl. He didn’t knock once—let alone thrice—instead, he booted the door down and wed me to him for over a decade.
I lean over him, seeing every bead of sweat dotted on his forehead. Donnacha’s grip tightens on my shoulder.
“I hope it’s hot in hell, Belsky.” I punctuate my parting words with a hard, sharp kick to his groin. The piercing scream that rips from his bloodied mouth sounds like the sweetest song I’ve ever heard.
Without another look back, I turn on my heels and head for the door. As I pass Mak, I stop and slip my hand in his. “Enjoy it. You’ve been waiting a long time.”
He stoops down and kisses my cheek. “And now I realize, so have you,” he replies softly.
Back in the tunnel, I lean my forehead against the damp wall, using it to center myself. There’s a click of the door, a few heavy footsteps, then Donnacha’s arms are around me.
To the backdrop of Belsky’s shrieks, he trails small kisses down the nape of my neck, and when he reaches my shoulder blades, he turns me around and presses me into the wall.
“You okay?” he whispers, searching my eyes for the answer to his question.
I reply by snaking my hands in his hair and pulling his lips against mine. I kiss him deeply, hungrily, tasting his sweet tongue and committing it to memory. Lifting his face from mine, he traces his thumb across my tender bottom lip, where his kiss just was. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?”
“What is?” I pant, unable to reclaim the breath he stole from me.
The sharp angles of his face soften into an easy smile. “That I vowed to break you, yet you’re the one who broke me.”
I laugh into his mouth, devouring the raspy chuckle I receive in return. “And I promise I’m going to love you so hard that all your broken pieces will fit back together.”
