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“I can’t do that.”
“Please,” he begs. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
From on high, Konstantin claps his hands. “Begin!” he shouts, his roar echoing off the cold sides of the pit. It’s a game of survival now. Him or me. For the sake of my child and my woman, it has to be him.
I rear back and swing.
My knuckles connect with his jaw, the harsh crack drowned out by the sound of the roar of other prisoners. Some of them scream they want out, while others cheer the fight on. Nothing they say makes any sense. Their time trapped in the darkness has turned them into little more than animals. Some are beaten and afraid, others can’t wait for the opportunity to sink their teeth into me.
It’s not much of a fight. The man is already tired and weak from his stint here on Konstantin’s orders. I genuinely pity him. He doesn’t even lay a hand on me before a good hard kick to the gut sends him collapsing to the pit’s floor. The guards haul him off and return him to his makeshift cell. He’ll get another chance at redemption in a week’s time.
I know what Konstantin is trying to do. This is his way of hardening me, forging me into the Bratva prince I was always supposed to be. Fight after fight, I grow stronger…
And more indifferent.
I’m nothing but numb to it at this point. My body doesn’t feel the pain, my brain blocks out the sounds and the smells and the noises that come with all this violence. Maybe that was Konstantin’s plan all along. Not to break me, but to desensitize me. This entire thing is a mind game to him, a psychological tactic to rip me down piece by piece only to build me up again in an image that suits him better.
I lose count of how many enter and leave the ring. A few of them get a good couple of hits in, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I don’t dwell on their faces, try not to think too hard about why they’re here in the first place or if any of them will escape this hell. The sad fact of the matter is they’re not the only ones suffering. I’m stuck in this hell with them.
And now my uncle is forcing Aurora to watch.
I’m keenly aware of her eyes on me. Every now and then, I manage to get a glimpse of her. She’s doing a good job, keeping up her poker face with a surprising amount of poise. I don’t think she’s made a peep. So far, she’s passing Konstantin’s test with flying colors.
A prisoner’s mighty roar shakes the air. The guards struggle to keep him in check. It takes a grand total of six of them to drag him to the ring. I can just make out the silhouette of his form, my eyes straining against the dim lighting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was more of a monster than a man. I’m by no means small, but this guy is practically twice my size and triple my weight class.
Yaroslav Golubev. Also known by the entirety of the Russian criminal underground as the Bear. His eyes are bloodshot. His wiry beard is caked with dirt and grime. He’s practically frothing at the mouth, his knuckles cracking as he clenches his hands into fists.
“You…” he hisses, sights set on me like a homing missile. “I’m going to fuckingkillyou.”
I take a deep breath and raise my fists. My only options are to win…
Or die.
Chapter 36
Aurora
Ithink I’m going to die.
Mikhail has done wonderfully so far, but I can tell by the way his shoulders hunch and his breaths come in haggard puffs that he’s losing steam. This is probably his ninth or tenth fight. It’s hard to tell. I lost count ages ago, so nervous and jittery I’ve practically chewed my bottom lip raw.
“Call it off,” I beg Konstantin. He’s seated right next to me, having the time of his life. “Please, Konstantin, don’t you think he’s had enough?”
Konstantin takes an unhurried sip of his mug of hot coffee. One of his guards brought it down for him. He’s the Caesar here, and Mikhail and all the prisoners entering the ring are just gladiators fighting for his entertainment. All we’re missing is a servant fanning him with a fucking palm leaf and some handmaiden to feed him grapes by hand.
My heart pounds so hard and fast I’m worried it will burst right out of my chest. I can’t take this anymore. Every punch and kick Mikhail throws makes me want to cry. Every punch and kick Mikhailtakesmakes me want to scream. But I can’t. Not when I know this is all some sort of sick, wicked test meant to torture me.
Even Catherina, who’s been living it up like she’s in the middle of her golden era, has started to show signs of discomfort. I know she’s a cold hearted, manipulative bitch, but I guess there are some lines even she can’t cross—like watching her eldest son being beaten to a pulp, for instance.
She turns in her seat slightly to address Konstantin. “Perhaps she is right. Can you not get a new fighter down there? One of your strongest guards should do, don’t you agree?”
Konstantin cackles, watching Mikhail and the Bear circle the ring. They’re both predators, dangerous and unpredictable. “But things are about to get interesting,” he says with a grin. I’ve never been surer of his depravity until this very moment. I’m convinced Konstantin doesn’t have a soul, doesn’t understand the concept of morality or right and wrong.
Beside me, Charlotte gags. She’s been dry heaving this whole time, barely able to keep down her lunch. I rub small circles against her back. She’s been squeamish at the sight of blood ever since I can remember. Mikhail himself isn’t in rough shape. He’s only sustained a couple of mild cuts and bruises, but I have a feeling things are about to change.
The Bear charges. He’s a mass of muscle and bones and pure hatred. Bloodthirsty. He’s shirtless despite the cold, his hulking figure covered from head to toe in tattoos. There’s a spider inked onto his face, various words spelled out in Cyrillic on his arms, and an illustration of a knife across his throat like he’sdaringhis enemies to try and slit him open.
The fight drags on. Mikhail is an adept fighter, quick on his feet, but even at this distance, I can tell he’s losing steam. He’s putting up a good effort, but his jabs come slower, and his dodges are sloppier. His opponent shows no signs of stopping. The Bear gnashes his teeth, fights dirty in ways that makes my stomach lurch. He scratches and bites and attempts to claw Mikhail’s eyes out more than once. With a well-placed punch to the side of the head, the Bear knocks Mikhail down—
