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)
Despite the roaring sound filling the room and the crush of bodies around the cage, D’yavol looked relaxed, but I could tell he was anything but. I’d unconsciously moved closer, or maybe the crowd had pulled me along with them, but either way, I could see him more clearly now. The concentration I saw in his eyes—eyes that looked light and a stark contrast to his darker hair and tan skin—was like a predator stalking its prey.
Maximus finally swung at him, but the devil blocked it easily and countered with a swing of his own. But the other man dodged it, and I could tell D’yavol was toying with his opponent as he swung out again, purposely missing.
And then the skull-masked fighter stood still, allowing Maximus to slam his meaty fist right into the side of his face.
His head cocked back, and a second later, D’yavol lifted the lower half of his mask just enough to spit out a mouthful of saliva and blood. He slid the mask back into place, and I realized he’d strategically made both movements in a way that, when he spat, his face was still concealed.
And then he rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck as he faced his opponent, and I knew right at that moment the fight was about to end.
D’yavol was on the other man a second later, so fast I felt like I might’ve missed something while I blinked.
The devil was precise with his movements, and everyone seemed to go deathly quiet as they watched a man get murdered right in front of them. Literally. That's what was happening before our eyes. D’yavol took Maximus to the ground and slammed his fist repeatedly into the fighter’s big body.
The air in my lungs stilled, and I swore no one around me breathed either. But then all hell broke loose when the screams and roars erupted. It all came back in a rush around me, and my ears rang from the sudden intensity.
Only minutes after it started, the fight was over, and I had no doubt it would’ve been finished even sooner had the masked fighter not bothered with playing around for his audience. When the devil climbed off the bloody, beaten-to-a-pulp, lifeless body beneath him, I stumbled backward, feeling lightheaded.
I couldn’t take my focus off D’yavol as he stared at the… corpse, unable to regain my footing as everyone cheered and applauded for the winner, so I just let the wave carry me where it willed. The back of my neck tingled in a way that told me I was being watched and needed to get out of here, but I had no control.
And then I felt hands on me, and I tipped my head to the side to look at who held me, even though I already knew.
The Russian scumbag I had the confrontation with before the fight was now holding me, the look on his ugly face telling me he had plans that included the vilest, most violent actions against me.
I turned, but before I could attempt to flee, a hard, painful grasp on my nape stopped me. I had zero chance to react before I was hauled against him and then all but dragged through the crowded, nasty-smelling basement.
I reached back and clawed at his hand, but it was no use—his grip was too tight. Thinking quickly, I remembered the gun in my purse and grappled to get it open. I struggled, the pain in my neck traveling up to my skull. Tears were prickling my eyes as I tried my hardest to get that pistol, but the jarring motions as he used me as a battering ram to get through the audience and the needle-like stabbing in the base of my head made this far more difficult than normal.
I cried out and screamed for help, but although people looked at me, the fuckers just laughed, some tipping their beers to the asshole with the death grip on me.
“Ты умрешь за это.” You’re going to die for this, I warned, but it was an empty promise. I could never tell the two men in my life—who would’ve made this man into ground meat and served it in a butcher shop come the morning—because this was my fault. I was the one who snuck out.
The asshole just laughed, the sound making the pain in my head worse.
The crowd moved away from us to give him room to drag me—probably headed to a darkened corner to assault me… or worse.
I closed my eyes to help me focus. Finally, my fingers found and tightened around the gun, but just as I was about to pull it out, he slid his hand up, grabbing my hair. He cranked his wrist, using the leverage to turn my body, so I was now facing him.