Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 20

20

MIKHAIL

Holy shit. Alya steps out of the foyer, and my jaw practically hits the floor. She’s not just beautiful, she’s a fucking goddess in that dress. It clings to every curve like it was painted on, and the sight of her cleavage sends a rush of heat to my cock.

She tucks a strand of her fiery red curls behind her ear as she saunters toward me, a simple gesture that somehow drives me insane. The scent of vanilla—sweet, soft, and so her—fills the space between us, making it an all-out war inside me not to hike up that dress, flip her over the car, and fuck her like my life depends on it.

“Hey,” she says, smiling nervously.

I finally manage to snap my jaw shut, swallowing hard. “God, you’re beautiful tonight. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but tonight…” I trail off, shaking my head in awe. “I think I might die just looking at you.”

She huffs out a soft laugh, gaze dropping to the ground as a blush of pink blooms across her cheeks. Then, with a hint of hesitation, she runs her tongue slowly over her lips, wetting them and drawing them together in a subtle, seductive motion. My pulse kicks up a notch, and I nearly lose it.

Fuck, I want to taste those lips.

When she glances up at me through her lashes, her gaze is smoldering. “Thank you. You’re looking very handsome yourself,” she says with a strained, almost sultry voice.

The evening breeze ruffles her hair, and I reach out to smooth it down. She tenses under my touch, her breath hitching. It’s evident she wants me just as much as I want her. “Everything okay?”

She inhales sharply and clears her throat. “Um—yes.”

Peering into her eyes, I ask, “Are you anxious?”

“A tiny bit,” she admits.

“You don’t have to come tonight. I can handle things on my own.” And I mean it. I’d agreed to let her get involved out of guilt, and because I simply could not say no to her. But the thought of her being in harm’s way if something goes wrong terrifies me.

I’d risk my life for her in a heartbeat, but I’d rather not put her in a situation where her life is at risk at all.

“No way. I’m doing this for Papa. I won’t sit on the sidelines.” She starts towards the car, and I quickly follow to open the door for her. Once she’s inside, I shut the door and round the limo to find Semyon waiting, forehead creased with worry.

I nod to the bodyguard, signaling him to give us some privacy. “What?”

“Are you sure about bringing her? Things could go wrong if Akim knows you’ll be there,” Semyon says, keeping his voice low.

“Akim thinks he has something on me. He won’t make a move tonight, I’m sure of that.” Not really, but I don’t cling to that hope. I’ll be a nervous wreck all night worrying about Alya getting hurt.

Semyon eyes me skeptically, as if he can see right through my bullshit. He definitely knows even if I don’t fully believe what I just said. Men like Akim are unpredictable; that’s what makes them so dangerous and hard to take down. I know this because I’m just like that.

Make your enemies think they can predict your next move, then prove them wrong. That’s my playbook.

“We can’t be sure. For all we know, he’s figured out Alya won’t turn on you,” he says.

“That’s why I spent the last few days making sure we’re armed and ready. If anything goes down, we’ll be prepared.” Normally, I bring only ten men to a party. Tonight, I’m bringing thirty.

Semyon sighs. “I’ll watch for anything unusual and signal you if I suspect something.”

I nod, then ask, “Have you found anything we can use against Arsen if he doesn’t cooperate?”

A wicked smile plays on Semyon’s lips. “Oh yeah, I did find something very interesting. Bastard’s been stealing from Boris and Akim—at least a million dollars, plus arms and drugs. He’s a dead man if Akim finds out.”

“Do we have evidence?”

“His bankbooks. And pictures of him meeting up with arm dealers who are Boris’s rivals.” He unlocks his phone, swipes through some photos, and hands it to me.

In the picture, Arsen is exchanging bags with Maximo, one of Akim’s biggest rivals. More swipes reveal him cozying up to people Akim and Boris would be furious to know he’s dealing with.

I return the phone to Semyon. “Airdrop those to me. If this doesn’t work, we move to plan B.”

“Which is?” Semyon asks with a raise of his brows.

“We kidnap the fucker and torture him until he talks.” My eyes scan the area for Alexei, but he’s nowhere in sight. “Where’s Alexei?”

“Making sure the weapons are all set. Ilya ordered him to keep you safe, and he’s taking it pretty seriously.”

My lips curl with a smile. Ilya and I have come a long way, but it’s good to know he still cares about my safety. Or maybe he’s just afraid Kira will skin him alive if anything happens to me. Either way, it’s reassuring to know he’s got my back.

I clap Semyon’s shoulder. “Get in your car and let’s go. It’s rude to be late.”

As I slide into the car beside Alya, I’m acutely aware of her presence. She’s quiet for most of the ride, staring out the window, seemingly lost in thought. But when I reach for her hand and squeeze it gently, she turns to me with a warm smile that makes my heart skip.

Moments later, the driver brings the car to a halt at the entrance of a massive white monstrosity—a hotel that screams luxury and power. It’s one of the largest and most extravagant spots in Chicago, the kind of place so outrageously expensive that only the elite can afford to book a room.

“Are you ready?” I ask Alya.

She nods and flashes a smile. It’s faint but determined. “I think I am.”

I lean closer and cup her cheeks. “You’re my wife, malyshka. That means you don’t fear or tremble in front of anyone, not even Akim. Hold your head high like the queen you are.”

Her smile widens. “I’ll remember that, Mr. Zirkhov.”

I chuckle. That’s my girl. Any nervousness she might have felt earlier has vanished. She looks fearless now, reminding me of the first time we met and how she didn’t cower before me like most people do. Pride swells in my chest. This woman is my wife.

I inch closer and kiss her forehead. “Let’s go get those bastards, Mrs. Zirkhov.”

She nods, and I slide out of the car. By the time I reach her side, one of my bodyguards is already holding the door open. I offer her my arm, and she loops hers through mine as we head inside.

The other guests are exactly what I expected—rich enough to soak in a bathtub filled with money. But all that elegance and sophistication is just a disguise.

Every man in this room is a criminal, from organized crime bosses to corrupt politicians, smugglers, and drug dealers. We all make our money in dirty ways, and our hands are all stained with blood.

I only stand apart from the rest because I’m like a scorned wild animal, here to take back what is mine.

Alya’s grip on my arm tightens. “Do you see the person you’re looking for?”

I scan the room, my eyes quickly finding my target. Arsen Krugovoy. That perverted bastard is hard to miss with his annoying grin and lecherous gaze.

He’s holding a glass of champagne and groping the hand of the woman in front of him. She’s smiling, but the way she shifts away from his touch shows she’s clearly uncomfortable. Typical Arsen—either too dense or too vile to care.

“There he is,” I say, nodding towards Arsen.

Alya glances at me, then follows my gaze to Arsen. “The one in the pink suit?”

“Yes.” The suit is ridiculous. There are two things I can’t stand—men with no moral code and men with awful fashion sense. Arsen ticks both boxes, making him even more infuriating.

“Is that his wife?” she asks, probably noticing the discomfort on the woman’s face.

I scoff. “As if. She’s just another toy for his pleasure.” Arsen and I clashed a lot when I was Pakhan. The asshole is cunning, far from loyal, but he had good business connections. That’s the only reason I kept him alive.

“Are we going to him now?”

I peer down at my wife and trace the length of her neck with my finger.

“I am. You’ll stay right here and wait for me.”

Her brows knit together in a fierce scowl. “That isn’t what we agreed.”

“I agreed to let you come with me, and I’ve kept to that promise. But I’m not letting you get within an inch of that scum. It’ll drag unnecessary attention your way, and that’s the last thing we need.”

“Mikhail—”

“Don’t go anywhere. If something goes wrong, call for me immediately.” I grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hand one to her. “I’ll be right back after I have a word with him.”

I catch Alexei’s eye over Alya’s shoulder and signal him to keep her safe. He nods in response.

Taking a sip of my champagne, I stride towards Arsen, bracing myself for the confrontation to come. Alya’s disappointed glare sears into the back of my head, but I refuse to turn around. I can’t bear the weight of her disappointment right now—I have to stay focused

Arsen’s smile drops to a mere smirk when our eyes lock. He swirls the pale-gold liquid in his glass and takes a drink. His blonde hair is ruffled, his blue eyes have that lazy, arrogant glint, and his suit is smeared with red lipstick stains. The guy looks like a damn animal.

“Look who we have here. If it isn’t the fallen Pakhan himself,” he snarls, sounding like a rabid dog.

The woman with him quickly shifts to his side, looking like she would rather be anywhere else.

“Fallen Pakhan?” I chuckle at the pathetic attempt to insult me. It doesn’t sting because I know I won’t be a fallen Pakhan for much longer. “You’re still as childish and stupid as ever. But I didn’t expect much more from a dog who bites his master.”

“If you were my master, you should have been smarter, Mikhail.” He slides one hand into his pocket and sizes me up with that smug, condescending look. “It pains me to say this, but you look better than I expected. I heard you’re Ilya’s dog now. Guess that puts us on the same level, doesn’t it?”

Now that’s an insult that lands. My smile drops instantly, and my jaw clenches. “I will never be on the same level as you, Arsen. Not even if I’m crippled or dead.”

“You think too highly of yourself, Mikhail.”

“I do.” I look around, checking for any prying eyes. With a bounty on my head, it’s risky enough to be here. I can’t afford to raise suspicions. “I’m here to ask you some questions about Akim.”

He takes a leisurely sip of his drink, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Do I have to answer these questions?”

“You don’t have to, but if you don’t, there will be consequences.” I purse my lips, feigning thought. “I wonder what dirty secrets you’re hiding in a closet of pink suits. Does Akim know how disloyal you are?”

Arsen ignores my warning. Instead, his eyes light up with sick amusement as he looks over at Alya. “There’s news you got married to Ivan Orlov’s daughter. She’s quite the looker. Permit me to jerk off to the thought of her later tonight.”

My fists clench, my rage bubbling to the surface. I take a menacing step toward him. “Speak about my wife again and I’ll kill you.”

“Are you threatening me?” he smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction.

He’s trying to bait me, but I’m beyond caring. I’ll take whatever insult he throws at me, but my wife is where I draw the line. “Yes, I am. One more word about her, and you’ll be dead before you can blink.”

Arsen raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Calm down, man. I’m just messing around. I wouldn’t touch what’s yours.”

“Keep your sick jokes to yourself,” I growl, my fists itching to land a blow. “I know about your shady deals with Maximo and how you’ve been stealing from Boris and Akim. You have two choices: talk now, or let them find out how much of a traitor you are. You know how that will end.”

Fear replaces his arrogance. He’s trembling, just like I want him to. “What do you want to know?”

I smile coldly. “Good dog. I heard there’s a bounty on my head.”

“There is,” he answers. “The payout’s huge. Everyone is scrambling to claim the prize, desperate to be the one who snaps your neck.”

I expected as much. I’ve put an end to their human trafficking and other disgusting activities they pleasured themselves with. They’d be foolish not to want me out of the way. “What does Boris want with my wife?”

His grin returns, twisted and malicious. “Guess.”

“Don’t play games with me,” I warn sharply.

He throws a hand up, his grin growing wider. “Relax, Mikhail. That was only a joke.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Your wife is the only way he can get to you. He knows she wouldn’t betray you.”

I narrow my eyes on Arsen, wondering if Akim knows that Alya is his daughter. Even for a monster like him, I can’t imagine he’d drag her into this. “Is that all he knows?”

Arsen’s smile drops a little. He looks more serious now. “Is there something else he should know?”

“None that is your business.” I rack my brain for the next question. I have plenty, but I need to prioritize. “How do they plan to take me down?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “They’re the top dogs, Mikhail. I’m just a mutt. Do you really think they’d share their fucking plans with me?”

“It’s your specialty to sniff out what others are planning. You know something. What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but plan A was to get you through your wife.” He pauses and finishes his drink. “You already know plan B.”

I tilt my head, despising the bite in his tone. “And that is?”

He just smirks.

An alarm goes off in my head as I try to piece together what he just said.

Then a jarring realization hits me.

Shit.

This isn’t just a party; it’s a fucking trap.

As if on cue, the sound of gunfire rips through the air, and chaos erupts. My ears ring from the blast, but all I can think about is Alya.

I squint, scanning the hall frantically for her. There—she’s crouched behind a table with her hands covering her ears.

I need to get to her.

Reaching for my gun in the holster strapped to my chest, I dash toward her, shielding her body with mine as I pull her to a secluded bar at the other end of the hall.

She flinches, then she turns to me, her eyes wide with fear. Some of it fades when she realizes it’s me. “What the hell is going on?”

“This party was a trap,” I say with labored breath as I pull out my phone and call Alexei. He answers on the first ring. “It’s a trap.”

“Where are you, chief?” he asks.

“In the hall. Bring the men in. Now!” I hang up, shove the phone back in my pocket, and drag my attention back to Alya.

A rush of adrenaline courses through my veins. I’ve been in situations like this before, but never with her. I don’t care about dying, but I’ll be damned if I allow even a scratch on her skin.

I need to protect my wife.

“Don’t come out no matter what happens, okay?”

I cock my gun, ready to fire back at Arsen’s men.

She huffs, but there’s no amusement in her eyes. “I’m not letting you go out there alone, husband. We’re in this together. Till death do us part, remember?”

My body goes rigid. There’s something both utterly insane and deeply romantic about her resolve. Has she always been this stubborn?

Hell. If we survive this, I’m going to have to fuck that stubbornness right out of her.