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“For me?” I choke out, still not quite understanding. “Why would I want them alive?”
“I don’t think you want them alive,” he says, that smirk returning. “I think you want them fucking dead. And that’s why they’re kneeling in front of you right now.”
“Oh,” I whisper, turning my head to look back down at the two men as the pieces start to click into place. I’m beginning to understand now. “You wanted me to get to see them die.”
“No.” Viktor shakes his head. “I want you to have the opportunity to kill one of them.”
I stare at him, shock written on every single one of my features. “What?” I manage to choke out, looking down at the gun still in his hand and then back up at him. “I’ve never—”
“Oh, I know,” Viktor says smoothly. He looks down at the two men with distaste. “You see, despite all of our efforts, we couldn’t get a clear picture of who was really responsible for the damage done to you. They’re both responsible, of course, but there was an argument between these two as to whoreallywanted to have their—fun—with you in that cabin.”
Just hearing that sends a shudder through me, one that I know Viktor can’t help but see, my chest and throat tightening at the memory. It still feels too fresh, too immediate, and I feel that hot rush of anger again. These two men have taken so much away from me, hurt me so badly, and I know that I should feel that what Viktor has already done to them is enough.
But I don’t feel that. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t feel that it’s even close.
“Whichever one was the most responsible,” Viktor continues, his voice cold and hard, “is my gift to you, for you to take your revenge.”
“And the other?” I choke out, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Is for me to kill, so that I can take mine.”
A jolt of pure adrenaline crashes through me, and any thought that this might have all been some elaborate plot designed by him flees my mind, if only temporarily. I know that I should hesitate, resist, tell him that I don’t want this. That I should cringe at the idea of taking another human being’s life.
But these aren’t humans. They aren’t men.
They’re animals, and all I can think about is every single man who’s hurt me, who’s used me, who’s made me a pawn. All of the emotions and pain come rushing back, filling me, bleeding through my veins as I look down at Andrei and Stepan.
I can’t change how my father controlled my entire life, making me into nothing more than a tool for his own needs, always a bargaining chip and never just his daughter. I can’t undo the times Franco’s fist connected with my face or other parts of my body, the feeling of his fingers digging into my flesh, or the cruel words he spit at me. I can’t undo the things he did to me, Ana, and other women, too, maybe. I can’t even change the fact that Luca, too, the one man I trusted—and still trust, for the most part—went against his better nature and sold me off to a cold and violent man who traffics in other humans for a living.
A man who I can’t help but desire, againstmybetter nature.
I can’t change any of it. I can’t go back in time before Andrei and Stepan tortured me in that horrible cabin. I’ll carry the scars of that with me forever.
But I can have this. I can take back this power. I can make them pay for what they did, and somehow, in a way, that feels like making everyone else pay too.
It feels as if every terrible thing, every pain, every emotional and physical wound, narrows down to this one opportunity.
This one change for vengeance.
Looking down at the two of them, I don’t feel like a princess or a queen anymore. I feel like a vengeful goddess, and holding their lives in my hands feels more heady and powerful than I’d ever thought it could. I don’t think Viktor would spare them even if I asked for him to, but it doesn’t have to be me who takes their lives.
It doesn’thaveto be, but I think that’s what Iwant.
No—Iknowit is.
“Give me the gun.” My voice is cold, hard, and clear, and the trembling and frightened emotion of a little while ago completely gone. I sound almost like a different person, someone unafraid. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take her revenge on the men who hurt her.
Someone stronger than I’ve ever been before.
“Which one is yours?” Viktor asks, and I swallow hard. I look down at Stepan’s face, sneering up at me defiantly despite his broken face, as if he thinks he can intimidate me into backing down. Into sparing his life or begging for Viktor to spare his. As if I would want anything other than death for him.
A bullet to the head seems almost too easy.
“Him.” I gesture towards Stepan. “Stepan is the one who was responsible for most of this.” His name tastes bitter on my tongue, but it’s worth it when Viktor holds the pistol out to me, and I see the defiance start to drain from his face.
When I take the gun from Viktor’s hand, the blood drains from it entirely, his skin going chalk-white.
“I’m not the best shot with this yet,” I say casually, the weight of the gun settling against my palm. “But I don’t think even I can miss from this close range.”
