Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 15

15

MIKHAIL

I’ve been distracted all fucking day, and nothing is cutting through the chaos—not even fantasizing about drowning Boris and Akim in their own blood is doing it for me.

There’s a bounty on my head. The Italian mafia has made a deal with the Russian Bratva to hunt me as if I’m a fucking pig to slaughter. Yet all I can think about is my wife.

Alya…

Christ.

Despite the shitstorm brewing around me, I was able to sleep like a baby last night thanks to her. She’s a welcome distraction from the clusterfuck I’m currently in. But there’s another worry gnawing at my gut—she’s my wife now, and that puts a target on her back too.

I want to believe Akim wouldn’t hurt her, but that’s wishful thinking. That bastard is more beast than man. Relationships don’t mean shit to him. He’d slit his own mother’s throat if it got him what he wanted.

Not that I’m any better. I dragged Alya into this mess. And soon, I’m going to hurt her even more when I drop the bombshell that will help me immobilize Akim before I strike. But I’m the only one who can protect her now.

My chest tightens at the mere thought of her getting hurt. My sweet little wife who wouldn’t hurt a fly—she deserves better than this. Better than me. But there’s no one who can protect her from me, and a dark part of me likes it that way.

A knock on the door yanks me from my brooding.

Before I can even bark the order, the door swings open, and Semyon and Alexei saunter in. Arrogant bastards.

“You okay?” Alexei asks, sprawling into the chair across from mine. Then props his feet on my desk, and I fight the urge to break his ankles.

Semyon takes the mesh chair next to him, his face its usual mask of grumpy indifference I swear, the man could give a kid nightmares.

“Were you in the middle of something before we walked in?” Alexei asks, narrowing his eyes. “Your cheeks are so red I’d swear you were jerking off.”

“I’m not a horny mutt like you, Alexei,” I drawl. His joke hits too close to home. I wasn’t jerking off, but I was mentally cataloging all the ways I would fuck my wife when I get home tonight.

My cock twitches in agreement.

He taps his jaw. “Could’ve fooled me. Feels like yesterday we were clubbing and fucking different whores every night back in Russia.”

My brows knit. “Does it? Feels like a lifetime ago to me. And I’m a married man now, asshole.”

“Ah, right.” He shakes his head, sighing. “Lovely. Alya. You don’t deserve that girl, man. You’re better off fucking whores like you used to.”

“Maybe I’ll make you my whore, Alexei. Let’s see how well you can suck a dick.”

The room vibrates with his laughter. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather eat pussy and spank a fat ass. No offense, man.”

If I didn’t like Alexei, he’d be fertilizing daisies for how much he taunts me. That bastard knows I enjoy his banter, and he milks it for all it’s worth.

“Now, back to Alya,” he says, suddenly serious. “Why did you really marry her?” I know it’s not just because you needed a wife and heirs. You’ve got some sick plan brewing in that twisted mind of yours, don’t you?”

I hate it when others can read me like an open book. Most people can’t, but for some reason, Alexei made a hobby out of it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. “What makes you think so? Maybe I’m just smitten.”

He snorts. “That’s something I can believe, but it’s not reason enough. I know you, Mikhail. You don’t breathe without a plan.”

Alright, Alexei is smart, but not that smart. My gaze snaps to Semyon. “You told him?”

“Um, he asked,” Semyon mumbles, sounding like a toddler who has just been scolded.

“Fucking snitch.” I drag my attention back to Alexei. “You’ll know soon enough. Now, back to more important things. Did you confirm that Akim met Luca?”

Alexei nods, all business now. “They met in a private hangar two weeks ago.”

“So Nikolai wasn’t lying.” Interesting. I’ll make sure that bastard regrets siding with traitors like Boris and Akim.

“We should talk to Luca,” Semyon suggests. “Maybe we can flip him to our side. Ilya won’t object; it’ll benefit him too.”

I laugh, but it’s a sound devoid of humor. “And offer what?”

“We can offer him business deals. I heard they had problems with their gun dealers in Mexico. We could swoop in, give them something?—”

“I’m sure Akim’s already offered him that, plus our territory.” I lean back in my seat and think. “Talking is a waste of time. Let’s pay him a visit.”

Alexei’s eyes widen. “When?”

“Right now.” I nod to Semyon, “Get twenty men ready. We’re hitting Luca’s warehouse.”

Alexei sighs. “You’re insane.”

“I know. I wouldn’t have become Pakhan if I wasn’t.” I flash a grin.

“Are you sure this is smart?” Semyon asks, his tone laced with concern. “They’ll be expecting us.”

“Makes it even more fun.” When his forehead creases even more, I add, “They’ll be expecting us, but not today.”

They both fall silent, heavy with unspoken doubts. I can practically hear their thoughts—it’s suicide. Which, to be fair, maybe it is. But I don’t give a shit.

“Hurry up, Semyon,” I bark. “I have to get back to my wife tonight.”

I told her I wasn’t sure I’d make it home today, but I think I’ll shrivel up and die if I don’t get to see her beautiful face by tonight. Maybe I’ll spice things up and get her a rose.

I’ve never bought a woman flowers. Might as well start now.

I can see Luca’s men standing guard outside the warehouse from where my car is parked. They seem busy scanning the area for an intruder, oblivious to the hell about to rain down on them. I wonder which lucky bastard will be the first to taste my bullet.

“This is an insane plan, Mikhail,” Alexei says, tucking an extra gun into his holster. “You’re going to get us killed.”

I chuckle darkly. “We’ve been through hell and back. If I didn’t get you killed then, there’s no chance it’s happening now.”

“You’re married. Poor Semyon and I are going to die without ever tying the knot.” He twists his neck to Semyon. “Ain’t that right, Semyon?”

“You never wanted to get married, Alexei,” Semyon answers while inspecting his AK-47.

Alexei hisses. “You’re no fun, big guy.”

“Alright, that’s enough jokes,” I growl, snapping their attention back to me. “We’re going in now. Kill everyone on sight except Luca. We need that motherfucker alive… for now.”

My trigger finger itches. God, I wish I could end that bastard already. But he deserves a slow, painful death for what he did to my warehouse and my men. So, for now, I’ll have to be satisfied with doing the same to him.

“Are you ready, chief?” Semyon asks.

I raise guns and nod. “Let’s go.”

We storm towards the warehouse entrance. Some of Lucas’s men spot us, but we drop them before they even get a chance to fire their guns. Poor bastards never stood a chance.

First blood, and it tastes fucking sweet.

More men pour out from the warehouse like rats from a sinking ship, yelling and fumbling with their weapons. Amateurs. I dive behind a barrel for cover and open fire, picking them off as they come.

Every one of my nerves sings with adrenaline. This—this is living. The raw power, the threat of death—it’s intoxicating. Better than any drug.

It doesn’t take long for the air to erupt in beautiful chaos—screams of the dying, the staccato rhythm of gunfire, the acrid stench of gunpowder burning my nostrils. It’s a symphony of destruction, and I’m the goddamn conductor.

Alya, the bounty, the Bratva—it all fades away. There’s only this moment, this fight, this glorious, bloody chaos.

To my left, Semyon’s roar pierces the chaos as he unloads his AK-47 from behind a stack of crates. The rapid-fire makes quick work of our enemies, turning them into bloody Swiss cheese.

On my right, Alexei moves like a shadow, slipping between crates with lethal grace. Each time he appears, another enemy drops. His precision is terrifying. He’s a predator in his element, effortlessly dodging bullets and never missing a kill.

The battle reaches a crescendo, then abruptly fades. An eerie silence descends, broken only by the moans of the dying. I survey the carnage with a savage grin splitting my face.

Holy shit. We did it.

Bodies carpet the floor, blood pooling beneath them. The few survivors twitch and whimper, too broken to even think about reaching for their fallen weapons. It’s a bloodbath.

Some of the rage that’s been burning in my gut since this morning melts away as I take in the scene. In its place, a dark satisfaction spreads through me. Luca thought he could fuck with me? With my people? Well, look at him now. In mere minutes, I’ve turned his precious army into fertilizer.

Each corpse is a message. Each bloodstain, a warning. This is what happens when you cross Mikhail Zirkhov.

We pick our way inside the warehouse, stepping over the fallen.

Luca’s voice echoes from somewhere inside. “What do you mean we’re being attacked?” he barks.

The idiot never saw us coming. But he’s about to get a front-row seat to the consequences of his stupidity.

“Semyon,” I call out, “you stay here with Alexei. Make sure no one gets any heroic ideas while I have a chat with our friend Luca.”

“It’s dangerous,” Semyon says, kicking over the bodies on the floor.

“Danger? This is just foreplay.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Just watch my back, yeah?”

“Sure thing, chief.”

I stalk towards Luca’s voice, my anticipation burning hot with the promise of vengeance. As I round the corner, I see him sitting behind his big mahogany desk. His eyes are wild, darting around like a cornered animal. Though he’s trying hard not to look alarmed. It’s almost cute.

The bodyguard next to him tries to draw his gun, but a single shot from mine finds his skull before he can even blink.

Luca flies to his feet, hand diving under his desk. Predictable idiot.

I level my gun at his head and press my finger to the trigger. “One more stupid move and you’re a dead man, Luca Rossi.”

His hand freezes mid-reach. Good boy.

“You’re crossing my territory,” Luca spews. “What the hell is this about?”

I walk to his desk and yank away his gun from under it. “Playing dumb now, are you? Let’s talk about my warehouse. And the twelve men you murdered.”

I pull up a chair and make myself comfortable across from him. “What did Akim offer you?” He forces a smile, but fear now bleeds through the cracks. “Everything you and your weak friend own. Ilya does not deserve to be Pakhan or to run a territory as big as the one he does.”

I bark a sardonic laugh. If Ilya were here, he would feed this bastard his own tongue for having the nerves to pull bullshit like that out of his ass.

“And you think you’re better suited to take over the territory?” I lean forward, voice dripping with mockery. “A sniveling coward like you, who’s pissing himself in front of me? I don’t fucking think so.”

“I don’t care what you think, Mikhail. If you’re here to shoot me, then just do it.”

For a moment, I’m tempted. One squeeze of the trigger and it’s over. But no. I got bigger fish to fry. And the last thing I want is to create more enemies for myself.

“I’m not here to shoot you. Not yet,” I stand up, looming over him. “But cross me again, and you won’t get another warning. That’s a fucking promise.”

“Or what?” he fires back, but his bravado is paper-thin.

I smirk. “You’ve seen what happens when I’m pissed off. Don’t make me show you again.” I straighten up. “Oh, and one more thing. You should start hiring a truck and preparing for a mass funeral. Every last one of your men are dead.”

As I start to back away, a delicious idea hits me. When he’s least suspecting, I point my gun to his toe and pull the trigger.

He screams, clutching at his foot, blood oozing between his fingers. “Mikhail, you fucking bastard!”

I kiss the tip of my gun. “Consider it a souvenir from my visit. Never forget who really runs this city.”

As I walk away, leaving Luca writhing in pain, satisfaction settles in my chest. Message delivered.

Now, it’s time to go home to my wife. Maybe I’ll even pick up that rose on the way. After all, nothing says ‘I love you’ quite like coming home victorious.

Hell, maybe she’s even ready to see a darker side of me.

I’m sure as fuck ready to let it out.