Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 3

3

ALYA

It’s been an entire week since I delivered Akim’s message to Mikhail.

After I left Mikhail’s mansion, I texted Akim the reply. And thank fuck, I haven’t heard a peep back from him since.

With any luck, it’ll stay that way. Akim can rot in hell for all I care.

But right now, Akim isn’t the thorn in my side.

It’s Mikhail.

The bastard’s been haunting my thoughts ever since our meeting. Seeing him in the flesh reignited all my hate for the man. But something else has wormed its way in, something so vile I hate myself for even acknowledging it.

Lust.

He was a walking sin. And the way he looked at me, touched me, spoke to me…

Fucking hell.

I hate him with a passion. I need to tattoo that on my forehead.

“Earth to Alya.”

I snap my head towards Sophia, my best friend, blinking like an idiot at her. Her words finally sink in.

We’re at Furry Friends Rescue Shelter, an animal shelter where I volunteer during the holidays. School’s out for a few more weeks, and playing Florence Nightingale to rescue animals is my only escape these days.

“I said, you’re in another galaxy,” Sophia repeats. “You’ve been weird for days. Spill it.”

“You haven’t even seen me in days,” I point out.

“Your texts read like a depressed robot.” She gently deposits a white bunny in its cage and stares me down. “Something’s eating you. What gives?”

I sigh. I have so much on my mind. It would actually be nice to have someone to talk to. But how much can I reveal? “Remember how I told you my dad worked with the mafia?”

She bobs her head. “And then he was killed?”

“Right.” My chest constricts. “His BFF paid me a visit last week. He wanted me to… uh, date someone… someone from the mafia.”

Sophia frowns. “Sounds sketch as hell.”

I shrug. “Totally insane, right? Plus, the guy’s like ten years older than me.”

“Is he hot?”

I nearly choke.

“Sophia!”

“Just asking the hard-hitting questions.”

“He’s… he’s supposed to be my enemy. I’m supposed to hate him.”

“But do you?”

“Yes!”

“So why would your dad’s best friend try to set you up with him?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Translation: He’s smokin’ hot.”

Mikhail’s smile flashes unbidden through my mind and my stomach flutters.

“He’s evil incarnate.”

“Well, I’ve got a thing for bad boys. So, if you want to pass along my number?—”

“Jesus Christ!” I can’t help but laugh. “You have no idea how dangerous these men are.”

She shrugs. “Danger can be a turn-on.”

“What about hate?”

“Makes for mind-blowing sex. Hell, I?—"

I slap a hand over her mouth before she can finish that thought. How did I forget she’s crazy?

“Hey!” She tries to wriggle from my grip, but I don’t let her.

“You and your nasty mouth.” I poke her ribs, my grip still firm over her mouth. “I’d rather kill him than sleep with him.”

She finally wriggles free, cackling. “Kill him? Girl, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.”

“He’s not a fly, though. That should make it easier.”

Mikhail is anything but a fly. He’s too big, too powerful. A target that’s impossible to miss, and even harder to take down.

Suddenly, the dog next to us barks. “See? Stella’s on my side,” Sophia quips. We both dissolve into giggles. I kneel to pet the old Chow Chow’s fur.

Then I catch sight of the time.

“Oh, shit.” It’s four pm. I grab my bag and swing it over my shoulder. “I gotta go.” Mama’s out of town for a while. She’s visiting her sister in New York for the next couple of months. I need to stop by the post office before it closes, then grab some groceries, and get home early to make myself dinner.

“I’m staying an extra hour,” Sophia says. “See you tomorrow?”

“You bet.” I wave at the fur babies, grinning as they bark their goodbyes.

Outside, the cool breeze kisses my skin. Perfect for a stroll. But I’m only a few blocks in when my scalp suddenly prickles. I stop in my tracks. Someone is watching me. I whirl around, but the street’s empty.

For some reason, I’ve been feeling these occasional prickles ever since I met Mikhail. Of course, my first thought was that he was stalking me. But why would he bother? He made it crystal clear he wasn’t interested.

After a quick look around, I force myself to keep walking. But no matter where I go, that creepy feeling lingers. I keep my eyes down, trying to act normal. If I’m really being followed, there’s no point in tipping them off that I’m onto them.

My casual stroll turns into a brisk walk. Then a power walk. I’m bee-lining for the Mini Pot Café, where the busy, bustling atmosphere will offer me a chance to blend in and catch my breath.

Two minutes more. Just two minutes and I’ll be safe.

When the café’s neon sign appears like a beacon of hope, I break into a full-on sprint. I don’t slow down until I’m safely inside, the bell above the door chiming my arrival. Gasping for air, I spin around, half-expecting to see some monster lurking outside. But there’s still no one there.

I must be losing my goddamn mind.

Hurrying to the barista, I order the first thing I see on the menu. When it’s ready, I snag a strategic seat by the window and keep my eyes peeled for anyone suspicious. No one stands out, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even as I gulp down my coffee.

As soon as the last drop is gone, I’m out the door, heading straight for the main road where taxis usually line up.

Taxis. Safety. Home.

I’m about to round a corner when a hand clamps down on me.

The air wooshes from my lungs, and panic explodes in my chest. I clench my fist and swing it wildly at my faceless attacker. But they easily manage to evade my attack and grab my wrist.

“Easy, malyshka .”

Fuck. That deep throaty voice.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I yell, thrashing against his grip. But it’s like trying to break free from iron chains.

And Mikhail’s just grinning like he’s having the time of his life. “I’m here because I missed you, of course.”

I scoff at the flimsy excuse. “You were fucking stalking me.”

“Following. I wanted to admire you from afar,” he purrs. He frees one of my hands and cups my chin.

A loathsome part of me wants to melt into his touch and revel in the heat rolling off him, but the hate searing through me stops that desire dead. “I told you not to call me that. My name is Alya.”

He simply shrugs, dismissing my anger as if it’s nothing more than an annoying fly. “I’m involved with too many women to keep track of names.”

I cringe in disgust, then a tinge of jealousy flares in my chest. “You’re a pig.”

His eyes glints wickedly. “Not a pig, but I can be filthy like one. Want me to show you just how dirty I can get?”

My stomach flips, but I force a scowl. “You’ve done enough dirt for one lifetime… like murdering my father.”

I swear I catch a flicker of… something in those icy blue eyes before his face goes blank and he finally releases my hand. I can’t tell if he’s angry or shocked. “What makes you think I killed your father?”

“Don’t you dare fucking deny it,” I snarl, crossing my arms and glaring up at him. “I took you for a lot of things. A coward wasn’t one of them. Guess I’ll have to add that to the list now.”

“Feel free. But only after I take you home.” He shifts to the side, making way for me to move first.

I blink, sure I’ve misheard. “You’re what?”

“Taking you home.”

I laugh, venom spilling from my tongue. “You’re out of your mind.”

He lifts a brow. “Does it look that way to you?”

This man is a whole load of trouble. His entire aura screams danger. His smile, his demeanor, his reputation—it all sets off alarm bells in my head. My instincts are telling me to run. It’s a primal fear. But another primal emotion roots me to the spot.

“Thanks for the offer, but I can find my own way home.” I try to brush past him, but he grabs my wrist again.

His touch is electric. Every time he touches me, it’s like being struck by a warm, powerful bolt of lightning. My skin prickles. My back arches involuntarily. I’ve never felt so betrayed by my own body.

I should despise him with every fiber of my being. He’s my enemy. But even if he wasn’t, my father did his best to shelter me from the underworld. I refuse to get tangled up in this mafia bullshit.

“I don’t like repeating myself, malyshka ,” he warns, his tone eerily calm. “Come with me. Now”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “I don’t follow strange men home,” I croak. “Let me go, or I’ll scream.”

“Strange men?” He chuckles darkly. “Funny. If I’m so strange, why did you waltz straight into my home with a letter proposing marriage?”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “That was—” I trail off. Fuck Akim for getting me into this situation.

Mikhail leans in close enough that I inhale his woodsy scent. “Scream. I dare you.”

I open my mouth, but before I can make a sound, he lifts me off the ground and flips me over his shoulder.

I kick, thrash, and even try to bite. “Put me down, you psycho!”

“Stay still. We don’t want you to get hurt now, do we?”

Fear lurches through me as he marches us towards a fleet of black Mercedes at the far end of the street. A group of men in dark suits stand waiting.

I scream even louder. “Help! Somebody, help! This lunatic is kidnapping me!”

No one moves a muscle. The entire street just watches, paralyzed, as I’m stolen away in broad daylight. Not a single person even reaches for their phone to call 911.

In no time, Mikhail tosses me into the car like I’m a sack of weightless feathers. Then he circles around and slides in next to me. There are two men in front—one behind the wheel and the other beside him. Both are silent and radiate menace.

“Drive,” is all Mikhail says. The engine roars to life, sealing my fate.

I want to scream more, but my throat’s on fire. Plus, I’m not entirely sure he won’t just put a bullet in me if I piss him off too much.

So, I suck in a deep breath and peer out the windows. It only takes a minute before I realize the route we’re taking doesn’t lead to my home. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home.” He keeps saying home like a fucking robot. It’s getting on my fucking nerves.

Fuck it. He can kill me if he wants.

“This is not the way to my home.”

He twists his head, and a smile creeps in that makes my blood run cold. “I never said I was taking you to your home.”

My heart sinks to my stomach. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ve had a change of heart, malyshka . We’re getting married.”