Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 17

17

ALYA

“These are your new bodyguards,” Mikhail announces, hands buried in the pockets of his slacks.

My eyes drink him in. He’s incredibly handsome this morning—all brooding, dangerous masculinity wrapped up in denim and dark gray cotton. Those tousled dark locks, those piercing blue eyes that the sun catches in such a way that—no, stop it, Alya. But those biceps… God, I get wet just looking at them.

Dragging my gaze away, I turn to size up the newcomers. Giants. Both of them, towering over me like living, breathing walls of muscle. One sports a fiery red beard and hair pulled back in a ponytail, while the other is slightly leaner but covered in an intricate tapestry of tattoos.

Intimidating? Hell yeah. But if I’m honest, they don’t hold a candle to how terrifying Mikhail was when we first met. Compared to him, these two are cuddly kittens.

“Who unearthed these specimens?” I ask.

“It’s Semyon’s handiwork,” Mikhail answers, appraising them with a critical eye. “They’re strong, fast, and just as deadly with their bare hands as they are with firearms. They’ll keep you safe.”

Oh, joy. But who’s going to protect me from them? These guys look like they could crush me if I provoke them even a little.

Squaring my shoulders, I address the redhead directly. “What’s your name?”

“Igor.” His voice rumbles like a collapsing building. Emotionless. Chilling. I have to resist the urge to scurry behind Mikhail for cover.

Swallowing hard, I turn to the inked one. “And you?”

“Dimitri.” Less earthquake and more shark circling its prey. The subtle edge in his tone makes my insides squirm.

Fantastic. My very own set of hulking muscle heads. Just what every girl dreams of.

“I can change them if you’re uncomfortable,” Mikhail offers, probably noticing my discomfort.

“No, it’s fine. They’re humans, not items to be changed just because they’re…” I trail off as I catch their glacial stares. They look like they’re about to drive me to a secluded area and strangle me to death if I try to replace them. Abort, abort! “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

“One second.” Mikhail walks up to me and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. Then he turns to the men. “If anything happens to my wife, you’re both dead men.”

“We’ll keep her safe, chief,” Igor rumbles, his thick Russian accent unmistakable.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Mikhail’s attention snaps back to me, his gaze softening. “Call me if so much as a hair on your head is out of place.”

“Will do.” I pull away from his hug despite every cell in my body screaming for just one more second of contact.

Almost an hour later, Dimitri pulls over in front of Furry Friend’s Shelter. Most of the little guys start to bark and dance in their cages. My heart swells as I spot Milo, the brown poodle I saved three months ago. She was so sick and frail when I found her, abandoned by her owner in the pouring rain. It took two months of veterinary care before she fully recovered. Now she’s bouncing around her cage like a furry pinball, ready to graduate from shelter pup to someone’s family member.

Note to self: ask Mikhail about adopting a dog or two. They would be such joyful, cuddly companions to have around. But would he be open to the idea? And how would he see them? A delightful addition or an annoying distraction? Even stone-cold mob bosses have hearts… right? So I’m sure he’d fall in love with a furry friend… eventually.

“Well, well, well… Look who we have here,” Sophia’s warm voice cuts through my musings as she emerges from the main building of the shelter. She’s practically glowing this morning, and damn, have I missed that radiant smile of hers.

“Hi, babes!” I scurry over to her and pull her in for a tight hug. “God, it’s been forever. I’ve missed you so much.”

She hugs me back even tighter. “I missed you more.”

We hold each other for a long moment before finally separating. Then her eyes rake over me, taking in every designer label. “Girl, you’re dripping in luxury from head to toe.”

I blush. “What can I say? I have a wealthy husband.”

“A wealthy husband you were dead set against marrying,” she jokes. “I bet you’ve fallen head over heels for him now, haven’t you?”

“What do you think?” I retort, unable to keep the smile from my face.

She gives me a knowing grin. “I think you need to park that designer-clad behind of yours down and spill every juicy detail. And I mean every single one.” Her gaze floats to Dimitri and Igor. “Who are these two mountains of muscle?”

“My bodyguards.” I chuckle. “Mikhail insists I can’t go anywhere without them now. Crazy, right?”

“Sounds like he’s gone full papa bear on you.” She loops her arms through mine, leading me towards the shelter. “Handsome, loaded, badass, and protective. Honey, you’ve hit the jackpot.”

We’re both giggling like schoolgirls as we head inside with my personal hulking shadows trailing behind us. The normalcy of the moment—just two friends catching up—feels like a breath of fresh air.

But as we reach the door, two men approach the shelter. One of them hits my shoulder as he passes.

“My bad,” he mutters before I can unleash my inner bitch on him.

“Whatever.” I brush it off, but something about the encounter niggles at the back of my mind. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something important.

The men disappear as quickly as they arrived, not even sparing a glance at the adorable pups begging for attention.

“Weirdos,” Sophia mutters after they leave. “I wonder why they keep doing that shit.”

My eyes widen on her. “Wait, what? This isn’t the first time?”

“Nope. They’ve been showing up almost every day for the past two weeks. Never say a word to anybody, just lurk for a bit and then vanish.” She pauses, her brow furrowing. “Hey, what’s that sticking out of your pocket?”

“What is wh—” I start to ask, but then I see it. A small slip of paper, barely visible, peeking out from my pocket. “Where did that come from?”

I scan the area and spot two more men in black suits, their eyes boring into me. With trembling fingers, I unfold the note.

Enter the black Mercedes parked outside. Raise an alarm and your friend will be the first to die.

At the bottom of the note, Akim’s stamp stands out, a twisted signature that seals the threat.

My blood curdles. I look around frantically for any sign of a threat. Any sign of a gun barrel peeking out from the surrounding buildings, but there are too many tall structures—it could be anywhere. And Akim doesn’t bluff. Underestimating that snake would be suicidal.

Sophia’s gentle touch on my arm nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “Babe, you look as pale as a ghost right now. Are you okay?”

I plaster on a smile and try not to show the panic flaring inside me. “I’m fine. I just… need to use the restroom. Be right back.”

Dimitri and Igor immediately fall into step behind me.

I whirl around, giving them my meanest glare. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you,” Igor answers matter-of-factly. “Chief told us to keep you safe.”

“And what exactly are you saving me from in the ladies’ room? The paper towels? An aggressive hand dryer?” I snap, instantly regretting my harshness. But I don’t have a choice—Sophia’s life is on the line. “I need to pee, and I don’t want an audience. Got it?”

They glance at each other and nod, a secret bodyguard signal or something passing between them.

“We’ll be waiting right here,” Dimitri concedes.

“Thank you.” I almost trip as I hurry inside and make a beeline for the emergency exit at the back of the building. Sure enough, just as Akim wrote in the note, there’s a black Mercedes waiting for me outside, flanked by three other vehicles, all with dark tinted windows. It’s impossible to see who’s inside any of them.

As I approach the car, my heart threatens to burst from my chest. All I can think of is Mikhail. What have I gotten myself into? What if something happens to me? He’ll be devastated. He’ll blame himself for it and never forgive himself for letting me out of his sight.

It’s not until I get to the car that I realize how stupid my decision was. But Sophia’s safety comes first. Dimitri and Igor might be stone-cold killers, but if Akim has more men around, they won’t stand a chance.

The car door swings open from inside before I can touch it. Akim sits on the far side of the backseat, looking infuriatingly calm and collected. He’s leaning back against the leather, legs crossed, face partially obscured by dark sunglasses.

“Leave us,” he orders.

His voice makes my scalp prickle.

The driver and bodyguard in the front seat exit without a word. The driver cocks his brow at me, a signal for me to get in.

I reluctantly obey, fidgeting as he closes the door, sealing me in alone with Akim.

The scent of his expensive sandalwood cologne assaults my senses, and I have to fight the urge to gag.

“Why did you ask me to come here?” It’s a struggle to hide the tremor in my voice. My eyes sting, but I try not to cry.

His lips twitch in what must be amusement. He takes off his sunglasses and peers at me now. “That’s not a nice way to speak to your father’s best friend, is it?”

A knot forms in my stomach at his tone. Christ, I can’t breathe, and if I stay here any longer. I might just actually throw up. “You tried to pawn me off to Mikhail like I was a piece of property.”

“Pawn you off? You wound me, child. The marriage I proposed was merely a peace offering.”

“I’m not a bargaining chip. You don’t get to use me for peace offerings.” Mikhail might never have forced me into marriage if Akim hadn’t planted the seed. Sure, I’m more than happy as Mikhail’s wife now, but still—Papa would have gone ballistic if he knew that Akim tried to pawn me off.

Akim chuckles darkly. “Such righteous indignation, coming from a woman who seems quite content playing house with the daddy’s killer.”

A tang of guilt splinters through me. It’s the one thing I’ve tried so desperately not to think about for some time now. I’ve come up with a thousand excuses, even tried to convince myself that Mikhail couldn’t possibly have had a hand in my papa’s death. But deep down, I know the truth. I can’t escape it. It’s glaring right back at me.

“What do you want?” I crook. I can’t even bring myself to look Akim in the eyes—the shame is too much

“Justice. I want him to pay for what he did, little one.” His voice is suddenly softer, almost gentle. “And I need your help to do it.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the perfect mole. Daddy’s little girl, now Mikail’s closest confidante. You’re the only one who can bring him down.” He pulls out a small device from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and holds it out to me.

I glare at the device, then my gaze skitters back to his face. “What is that?”

“Your chance at revenge. A listening device. Plant it wherever he meets with his men. I need to find out everything he’s planning.”

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the car, leaving my brain a muddled mess. I’m trapped between two hells —betray the man I love, or dishonor my father’s memory… “I can’t. Mikhail will kill me if he finds out.”

“I’ll be listening. I’ll save you first if anything goes wrong,” Akim says, his tone almost fatherly. “Just trust me.”

“Trust you?” I scoff, anger flaring up again. “Why should I after everything you did? Sorry, I can’t. Don’t even think about contacting me again.”

I shove the door open, but Akim grabs my wrist before I can leave the car. His grip on me is tight and painful. I writhe, but it only makes him hold me tighter. “Let me go!”

“I hear your mother’s health is improving,” he drawls.

The mention of my mother stops me cold. But then a wave of white-hot rage and bone-deep terror floods through every part of me. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”

He smiles, but there’s nothing warm about it now. “Then you know what you have to do. Help me, or I can’t guarantee her safety.”

I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel tears streaming down my face. “You’re a monster!”

“No, child. I’m just loyal. Justice for your father is all that matters to me now. If I have to threaten you or your mother to get it, then so be it.”

I gape at him, my mind struggling to process his twisted logic. I can’t shake the feeling that he’s lying. Everything he’s ever told me is a lie. “This isn’t about my father. You’re just using his name as an excuse for your own sick games.”

He reaches out, and I flinch as he wipes away my tears. His touch makes my skin crawl. “I don’t owe you an explanation. Now take this!”

I snatch the listening device from him, rage overriding any form of common sense left in me. “You’ve threatened everyone I care about, Akim. Mark my words—I’ll be the one to end you.”

“What a terrifying threat,” he sarcastically taunts.

“That’s not a threat,” I sneer. “It’s a promise.”