Crown of Hate (Soulless Empire)

Chapter 22

22

MIKHAIL

I know I told her to keep quiet, but right now, she’s not the problem. I am.

Every inch of me is ready to burst at the seams, to explode down her tiny throat, to roar as I fill her up to the brim.

But that would be a betrayal. Is she needs to keep quiet, then so do I.

And there’s only one way to muffle the thunder that wants to break through my lips.

“Up,” I order, pulling at Alya’s makeshift leash.

Like a good girl, she follows easily as I lift her from her knees.

“God, you’ve never looked so beautiful,” I can’t help but utter.

Her face is flushed red, drool washes down her lips like rainfall, tears stream over her cheeks in big globs. She was right. We’re a mess.

And I fucking love it.

Biting back whatever pain she hasn’t already healed, I turn to lie down on the seats. The leather covering squeaks beneath my aching body as I get into position then pull Aly back down to my cock.

The moment her lips return to where they belong, I reach a hand between her legs and flip her on top of me. I can feel the heat of her gasp wrap around my cock, as I’m sure she can feel my moan billows deep into her pussy.

“Fuck!” I finally release into her folds, clenching down on her ass. The scent of her arousal coats my lips. My voice is lost in her. I’m sure she’s the only one who heard me, so I groan again, and again, and again. Letting it all out before I find her clit with my tongue.

She bucks when I start to lick, but I keep my one hand steady on her leash and the other firmly on her ass as we both frantically give each other head.

69. It’s the perfect position for two lovers trying to keep each other quiet. My cock pushes every sound she makes back down her throat. Her pussy eats every word I utter.

It’s fucking magic. It’s fucking perfect. It’s fucking messy.

It’s fucking us.

And now it’s time to show Alya what I really taste like—as if I could hold back, even if I wanted to.

“Taste me, angel. Swallow.”

I don’t know if heard me, but it doesn’t matter. Her throat seems to open as I come to a climax, thrusting my hips up as far as they’ll go. Her nose scrunches against my balls. Somehow, I fit it all inside of her.

She starts to spasm on top of me. I release into her, stream after stream rushing from my tip. It all goes straight down her throat as she swallows my massive load.

I try to lick up every last bit of her as she finishes on my face.

When it’s all said and done, we’re wrapped around each other like sweaty blankets, completely satisfied.

“Good job, malyshka,” I praise, reaching down to stroke her hair as I use the belt to pull her face back.

My softening cock slips out of her lips and a slew of her drool coats it.

I wait until she’s done coughing before I ask, “How did I taste?”

It takes her a second to regain her voice, and I help by sliding the belt off from around her throat, but when she finally speaks, it’s to say the only word I want to hear.

“Delicious.”

My heart nearly hammers out of my chest.

That’s my fucking queen.

Alya is still asleep in bed when I pull myself out and quietly get dressed.

We got home hours ago, but the last thing I wanted to do was leave her side. So, instead of getting straight back to work, I carried her upstairs—both of us covered in nothing more than two bathrobes I ordered down to the limo—and joined her in bed for a quick rest while Semyon and Alexei transported Arsen to the premise.

Well, the bastard’s been downstairs for a while now, and I know that if I leave it off any longer, he might not last to get what he deserves from me.

For what almost happened to Alya.

Fucking bastard.

I’m already steaming by the time I reach the basement.

The stench hits me first—blood, sweat, and piss. Arsen’s sprawled in the chair, snoring like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Bastard.

My anger flares just looking at him. Alya could have gotten hurt because of this sick fuck. And because of me. Because I wasn’t careful enough.

I should’ve seen through it. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to get to Akim. My hands ball into fists.

Fuck restraint.

My fist connects with his face, and the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles sends a surge of delight through me.

He jolts awake, eyes wild with dawning terror as he takes in his predicament. The son of a bitch has no idea he’s now my prisoner, and fuck, do I love the fear bleeding into his eyes.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” I say dryly.

Thanks to Kira’s Disney obsession, I know the tale of Sleeping Beauty all too well. This moron doesn’t even come close. I hope he gets the irony.

His eyes meet mine, jaw quivering like a scared little boy. “Where am I?” he tries to snarl, but it comes out more like a whimper.

I sneer. Nothing pisses me off more than a dog who barks when he can’t bite. The audacity of this fool thinking he could take me on… What a fucking joke. I’d tell him to sharpen his hunting skills, but he won’t be alive long enough for that.

“Welcome to your own personal hell,” I answer, leaning back against the torture table. My fingers drum against the array of tools—each instrument holds a story, a confession extracted, a life ended. Arsen’s just the latest chapter.

He writhes, straining against the ropes binding him to the electric chair. My lip curls in disgust. How long before this idiot realizes it’s pointless? He’s already a dead man walking. My mind wanders to the various ways I could end him. Electrocution? Exsanguination? The possibilities are endless, really, and I’m still thinking of the best way.

“You’re making a big fucking mistake, Mikhail. Akim will find out you took me and?—"

“What do you think will happen?” I ask, cutting him off. I’m amazed how he’s not aware enough to realize how insignificant he is in the grand scheme of things. “You think Akim gives a shit about you? That he’ll waste time and resources looking for your sorry ass?”

A sardonic laugh rips from my throat at how foolish he is.

His throat bobs as he swallows. “What do you want?” he croaks, bravado crumbling. “I’ll tell or give you whatever you want, just… just let me live.”

I pick out a scalpel from the dissecting set, and in two quick strides, I’m at his throat, steel kissing skin. “I want everything you know on Akim, Boris, and how they run the Bratva in Russia,” I hiss. “Every. Fucking. Detail.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell you everything I know,” he squeaks. He doesn’t even try to hide the terror in his voice anymore. Pathetic.

I step back, checking my watch. “You have five minutes. I need to get back to my wife before she wakes up.”

Alya already knows about this basement and the horrors I conduct here. But knowing and seeing are two different beasts, and I plan to protect her from as much of the brutality of the mafia world as I can. I failed yesterday, and I’ll never forgive myself if I let that happen again.

“Boris is not your enemy. At least not technically,” Arsen begins, voice shaky.

My eyes narrow. “The fucker put a bounty on my head. If it’s not him, then who?”

“Akim Petrov.”

“He acted on Boris’s order,” I argue, hating that I’m defending that asshole. But I need to understand the dynamics between my enemies if I’m going to take them down.

“No. Boris gave the order because Akim asked him to. That blonde bastard is nothing but a puppet—Akim is the real Pakhan, he always wanted to be. That’s why he killed Ivan Orlov and made his move the moment you were away.”

I’m not surprised. What actually took me by surprise was the fact that Boris, a kid who clubbed all weekend and couldn’t even make his first kill, suddenly became a ruthless Pakhan overnight.

So, it’s Akim calling the shot from behind the scenes. Interesting.

“Is he planning to stay in the shadows forever? A man as greedy as him won’t be content playing puppet master.”

Arsen coughs, wincing in pain. Good. I hope he’s in agony. “You’re Akim’s biggest threat. What do you think will happen if you’re eliminated?”

I rub my jaw, piecing the puzzle together. Akim managed to get rid of Ivan. Tried to do the same to Ilya, and now he has turned his sights on me. If I fall, Boris is next. Then Akim takes the throne.

“Does Boris know this?” I ask.

He snarls. “I tried to warn that dumb fool. He trusts Akim so much, that bastard could stab him in the front and he’d just laugh it off.”

Typical Boris. That lad isn’t the brightest person in Russia. Too bad his stupidity might cost him his life. “How does Akim plan to take me down?”

“I already told you.”

I swipe a hand through my hair and heave out an exasperated sigh. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that’s all there is?”

I know Akim. He’ll try to use Alya to get to me. But he won’t just sit on his ass waiting for the opportunity to pop up. What bothers me is that he doesn’t seem to know she’s his daughter.

If he knew, he would have tried to get her back, or eliminate her as evidence of his betrayal. Akim is ruthlessly ambitious, he wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of a loose end like that. Which means he’s likely unaware of her true identity.

The door to the basement creaks open, and my heart leaps into my throat. I whip around, praying it’s not Alya. After yesterday, the last thing I want is for her to see me like this, to think of me as even more of a monster.

Thankfully, it’s Alexei who enters, shutting the door behind him. He pauses, his gaze bouncing between me and Arsen before a slow smile takes up his face. “No one told me there would be a party this early. Did I arrive late?”

Arsen glares at him. “You fucking traitor.”

“Traitor?” Alexei’s smile turns razor-sharp. “I’m a lot of things, dog, but a traitor isn’t one of them. I only serve Mikhail.”

“And you will die with him,” Arsen spits.

Alexei shrugs. “Gladly. But you’ll die here all alone. I think that is a lot worse, don’t you?” He doesn’t try to hide his amusement at Arsen’s rage. “Easy with all that snarling, dog. You’re not making it out alive, but I can make your death very painful if you disgust me enough.”

Arsen darts his attention back to me, eyes pleading. “You said you’d let me go.”

“I said jack shit. You want mercy? Earn it.” He should know by now—no one leaves this basement alive. I’m not known for my mercy. But I’m not about to remind him of that just yet.

“Fuck.” He rakes his teeth through his chapped lower lips. “Fine, I’ll tell you what you need to know, but you have to promise you won’t kill me after.”

I snort with derision. His desperation is pathetic. Too bad that will all be for nothing. “I don’t make promises. Give me a lead worth your miserable life, and I’ll consider giving you something in return.”

He shakes his head, defeated. “I’m not sure when, but Akim plans to cut off all your allies and business partners. His plan is to isolate you, steal from you, and then he’ll kill you.”

Alexei walks to my side and leans against the wall beside me. “Is this one of your tricks? Akim wouldn’t let you in on his plan.”

“He didn’t need to, asshole.” Asren winces, whimpering. “I have ears everywhere.”

“Did your ears tell you today would be your last?”

Arsen’s eyes fill with tears of fear. “You promised.”

“I promised nothing.” I hold out the scalpel to Alexei. “Finish him and take care of the body when you’re done.”

Arsen loses it, screaming and thrashing violently against his restraints. “You fucking monster! I hope Akim kills you!”

A cold smile plays on my lips. It’s both a warning and a threat. “One of us will die when I face Akim, and it won’t be me.”

As Alexei advances on Arsen with the knife, the bastard’s screams follow me all the way out of the basement.

My phone rings just as I close the door behind me, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face when I see who’s calling.