Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Я предупреждаю тебя.” I’m warning you. I kept my voice strong—fiercer than it had ever been before. There was even a split second of surprise on his face as I added, “Прикосновение ко мне обеспечит твою смерть.” Touching me will ensure your death.
It was a lie. I couldn’t tell Dmitry or Nikolai about any of this. I would just be ratting myself out. And telling one of their goons about it would just have them running back to my brothers, hoping to get brownie points by snitching me out.
“Я с нетерпением жду, когда ты осуществишь свою угрозу, малышка.” I look forward to you making good on your threat, little girl.
I didn’t respond, didn’t even bother looking around for help because there was no way in hell any of these motherfuckers would help me.
The speakers crackled again, and the announcer said, “Here we go, you pieces of shit. First up… Maximuuus!”
3
TATIANA
The bastard tightened his hold on my arm, despite the introduction of one of the fighters.
My instincts said to run.
My mind said to pull my gun out and shoot this motherfucker right between the eyes, like Nikolai and Dmitry had taught me.
But just then, someone shoved the man holding me, and I jerked my arm away. The asshole started cursing at the person who bumped him, dragging his attention away from me.
I took that moment to move backward, yet it was hard to push through the people as they all tried to get closer. But then the crowd parted, and a flash of a large body making his way toward the ring caught my attention. Something inside me made me freeze, and I got a better look at the ring.
The fighter, Maximus, climbed in and moved to the center of the ring, his body scarred and covered in horribly inked tattoos. His hair was greasy and slicked back, and although he looked tweaked-out, he was a big fucker and packed a lot of muscle.
He bounced on the balls of his feet before moving to the corner. The crowd quieted for the next announcement.
“And now the moment you asswipes have all been waiting for. Here comes the one… the only… D’yavoool!”
The room erupted in the most deafening sound I’d ever heard. Up ahead, even the man who’d grabbed my arm was now focused on the ring and on the other fighter making his way toward the cage.
And that’s when I saw him, the man they called Devil.
D’yavol.
I was transfixed as I watched him stalk toward the ring.
He was big, his muscles raw and cut, and his skin was covered in tattoos. The distance made it hard to see what the tattoos were. All I saw were dark lines creating intricate artwork.
People were trying to move closer to the cage, so they had a prime shot of all the violence that was soon to happen. I could smell the death in the air and knew by the end of this fight a corpse would be on that cage floor, blood staining the once white mat.
Although I’d never seen either fighter before, I felt this tightening on the back of my neck as I stared at the monster of a man who was now in the center of the cage.
The tattoos.
The olive skin stretched over hard muscles.
The short, dark hair that was already damp with, presumably, sweat.
And then there was the skull mask that covered the lower half of his face.
Though he only wore a pair of black track shorts, the mask, and tape on his knuckles, his identity was wholly concealed. No one would be able to tell it was him if they encountered him out in public… unless they recognized some of that dark ink that fully covered his body.
It seemed so contradictory, wearing next to nothing, with so many distinguishable marks, yet totally unrecognizable.
God… did I know him?
No, definitely not. I would never forget anyone who looked like that. Not when the mere appearance of him set off such a strong reaction inside me.
He could’ve worked for my brothers, which I supposed was possible. This underground fight was no doubt filled with Russians who bent to the will of the Petrov family. But unless I encountered him while he was completely clothed from the neck down, with nothing but his face exposed, I’d never seen him before.
I made sure my wig was on securely and ducked my head, hoping like hell my identity was as concealed as I hoped.
And then the fight started, and the noise faded away. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.
The greasy-looking fighter, Maximus, started bouncing on the balls of his feet with his fists up by his face. He approached D’yavol, continuing to jump and taunt, but the masked man remained still. Only his head moved, just slightly, as he tracked every single one of his opponent’s moves.