Page 123 of Blood of My Monster


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I ignore her insufferable existence and lower myself to my haunches. Sasha is hiding beneath the desk, her legs tucked to the side and face so pale, it appears sickly.

Her parted lips are dry, eyes shifty and scared.

No, not scared. They’re as terrified as if she’s seen a ghost who’s been haunting her for eternity.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be a woman, it’s that I can’t,” is what she’d said back in Russia. It’s also why she’s tried her hardest to keep her distance from the other men.

For eliciting this fear in Sasha, I’m tempted to go with option one and shoot Rai. Fuck the fact that she’s the Pakhan’s grandniece and he’d skin me alive if he found out that I’d hurt his precious relative.

My fingers find Sasha’s cheek to try and calm her down. But not only does she flinch, her body also breaks into a shaking mess.

With an annoyed sigh, I drop my hand to my side.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say in my attempt at a gentle tone that still sounds firm. “Stay here.”

She doesn’t nod or show any signs of hearing me, but I don’t have time to focus on that, because Rai is approaching us. Her steps are no different than those of a toddler who just learned to walk, and I hope she trips on her heels and breaks her ankles.

Or better yet, hits her head and dies. That way, I could confidently say that I’m not the one who did it.

Unfortunately, no falling happens, and I’m forced to intercept her so she doesn’t witness Sasha’s state.

I round the desk and grab Rai by the elbow. “Come with me.”

“I’m going nowhere with you,” she slurs and glares at me. “Do you want to die?”

“I assure you that you’ll be the one to die if you don’t follow me this instant.”

She does try to push me away and even attempts to dig the pointy part of her heel in my shoe, but she’s as drunk as they come, so I successfully drag her out of the office.

“Boss.” Viktor watches the scene with wide eyes. “She threatened to have the Pakhan kill us if we touched her, so I couldn’t stop Miss Sokolov—”

“Obviously.” I glare at him. “No one is allowed in the office until I get back.”

Yuri starts to say something, but I direct my glare at him. “I mean it. If I find out anyone went in there, they better not let me see them again.”

“What is this about?” Rai grumbles like a spoiled rich kid, which she is, actually.

Not offering a reply, I pull her with me to a secondary office and shut the door behind us.

I might have accidentally—or intentionally—pushed Rai harder than needed inside, because she slams against the desk and hits her head on the lamp.

Propping herself up on the edge, she faces me with a death glare, a red bruise already forming on her forehead beneath the blonde hair.

She’s wearing a knee-length black dress that’s more suitable for a funeral than a club. White pearls don her neck, and she has on the makeup of a president’s wife. I know she tries hard to look older than she actually is, and she might manage to fool an outsider, but not me.

Besides, I’ve known her since her grandfather, the previous Pakhan, brought her to the organization when she was a preteen. We’ve never gotten along.

She has some of Yulia’s haughtiness, and anyone who resembles my mother, even the tiniest bit, has a special place on my hit list.

“What do you think you’re doing, Kirill?”

I lean against the door, legs crossed, blocking the only exit. “I should be the one asking you that, considering you chose to barge into my club.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “The club falls under the organization’s jurisdiction.”

“Myjurisdiction.”

“As a member of the financial report team, I’m here for revenue control.”

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