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My jaw clenches as I speed across campus to the frat house. Mikhail has been growing more volatile and defiant since the episode. But I never expected him to outright threaten Sara. If he lays a finger on her, I'll fucking kill that bastard.
As I walk, my mind races through possible motives. None of this makes sense. I thought I was very clear when I caught them manhandling Sara last time. I must reach her before Mikhail does something drastic.
My fists clench with the urge to beat Mikhail to a bloody pulp. Sara has been through so much already. The thought of her frightened and at knifepoint makes my blood boil. When I get my hands on Mikhail, he'll regret the day he threatened what's mine.
I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white as I imagine the countless ways I'll make Mikhail suffer for daring to touch Sara. The anger coursing through my veins is like a living entity, demanding retribution.
As I speed down the road, my mind conjures vivid images of the torture I'll inflict upon him. I'll start with his fingers, breaking each one slowly, savoring the sound of his screams. Then I'll move on to his toes, crushing them beneath the heel of my boot. I'll take my time, relishing every moment of his agony.
My jaw clenches as I envision the fear in his eyes when he realizes there's no escape from the pain I'm about to unleash upon him. I'll make him beg for mercy, but there will be none. Not for someone who dared to threaten what's mine.
As I near the frat house, I slow my pace and glance around warily, ensuring I'm not being watched. The last thing I need is witnesses. I scale the trellis on the side of the house and hoist myself onto the second-story balcony, easing the glass door open silently.
I creep down the hall, listening intently for any sign of Sara or Mikhail. At the end, I spot Ivan posted outside a closed door, gun in hand. He shakes his head slightly - they must still be inside. I motion for him to hand me the pistol and take up position beside the door.
Pressing my ear to the wood, I make out Sara's muffled sobs and Mikhail's gruff voice.
I freeze as Sara's pleas reach my ears through the door.
"Please, let me go. I'm begging you," she sobs.
Mikhail scoffs. "Why should I? You're nothing but a lying bitch."
"No, it's the truth!" Sara cries desperately. "I'm pregnant, I swear. Just please, don't hurt me."
Pregnant.
The word hits me like a sledgehammer, momentarily knocking the wind from my lungs. My carefully laid plans worked - Sara is carrying my child.
Some primal, animalistic part of me roars in triumph at this news. I've marked her and claimed her altogether now. She'll be bound to me forever through this baby, this living embodiment of our bond.
But the urgency of the situation quickly overrides that possessive joy. Sara - pregnant with my baby - is in imminent danger at the hands of Mikhail. All my instincts instantly shift to protecting her, shielding both her and my unborn child from harm.
My blood pounds in my ears as I lean against the door, straining to hear what's happening inside. Sara is still pleading with Mikhail, her voice high-pitched and frantic.
"I just found out today," she cries. "That's why I was buying the pregnancy tests. Check my bag! Please don't hurt my baby!"
"Likely story," Mikhail scoffs. "You're just a whore. Is it Dimitri's, or have you been fucking every other Tom, Dick, and Harry?"
I clench my jaw at the insult, my fingers tightening around the pistol grip.
I kick the door in with explosive force, the wood splintering beneath my boot. Instantly, I'm across the room and on top of Mikhail, my fist connecting solidly with his jaw. He staggers back with a grunt of pain. But before he can react, I grab him and slam his head brutally against the wall.
"You worthless piece of shit," I snarl through gritted teeth. "Did you really think you could threaten what's mine and live?"
Mikhail's eyes widen in shock and fear. He tries to speak, but I cut him off with another mighty blow across his face. Blood sprays from his nose and mouth.
I unleash all my rage and fury on him, beating him mercilessly. With each crushing impact, I think of Sara sobbing and afraid, pregnant with my child. The thought fuels my violence even further.
"Please, boss, I'm sorry," Mikhail chokes, crumpling to the floor. But I show no mercy. I kick and stomp him viciously, relishing his pained cries.
"You're going to hell, you backstabbing rat," I spit at him. "You'll join the others there for daring to threaten my woman. And my baby."
When he's a bloody, moaning mess at my feet, I flip him onto his back and press my foot down on his throat. Mikhail's eyes bulge in terror as he weakly claws at my leg. But it's no use. With one swift motion, I draw my knife across his neck, opening his carotid artery. Dark arterial blood spurts and pools beneath him as the life drains from his eyes.
I step back and watch coldly as he bleeds out. The bastard deserved no better.
The sound of muffled crying reminds me of Sara's presence. I hastily wipe the blood from my hands and rush over to her. She's huddled in the corner, her body shaking with sobs.
