1. Vlad

My muscles tense as the shock works through my body. There's sweat on every inch of my skin, but I look at the prick holding the cattle prod. His little name badge says Ryder, and he spooks when I widen my eyes and extend my voice.

"That one tickled, you're getting the hang of it."

The sun has already come up, but it doesn't make anyone lose energy in torturing me. I want the drugs back. I got to see Vanya, and Inessa was sitting with her. My bratty wife was giving me shit, Vanya wasn't talking, but she smiled and giggled.

I wrap the chains tighter around my fists and wait. I need Ryder to prod me again. Each time he shocks me, they don't focus on my hands and assume the rattling is due to my body seizing.My taunts are let loose to get him to act.

"Do you take after your mother or father?"

His head turns towards me, and his brows come together. He has parental issues, which is evidenced by more than him joining a shitty MC. The tattoos with Mom and Dad crossed out on his forearm show his weakness to the world, while mine show my strength. Every crime is cataloged on my body, and I tense as the dumb fuck acts like we're having a conversation.

"Why?" he asks.

I hold my arms taut, playing up the part like there's no excess chain as I stare into his eyes and watch his fear increase.

"If you look like your mother, then I know not fuck her before I slit her open and shove you back up her cunt."

He rages, as expected, but he still holds onto his fear and stays out of reach as he pushes the cattle prod into my chest. Fuck me, it's like being a kid again. I don't know where Len got one from, but it was his favorite toy from the moment he brought it home when I was ten.

Ryder keeps the cattle prod against my chest, and it gives me more strength as my body spasms, absorbing the shocks. The chain in my hands is lax, and I continue wrapping it around my hands as I ignore the way it cuts open my palm. Sweat coats my body, mixing with the blood on my skin, and the current is moved away.

I'm still in my shorts, but they've been having fun, judging by the slashes in my skin. There are some on my back. They pull as I tense. They can't have healed already when I've only been here a few hours. The door swings open, stopping me from examining my current state. Heavy booted footsteps thud against the weak wooden steps as someone descends into the basement.

My head doesn't drop as I watch their annoying president, who has less authority than the hair that's receding from his ugly fucking face, puff his chest out. He comes to stand in front of me, and his attempt at menacing is laughable. I let the sound out, knowing I'm going to rip his fucking tongue from his head for touching my wife, and he bristles at the sound leaving me. His fist flies out, making the sound bounce off the walls as my head turns, proving he's a weak fuck.

"I never believed the rumors, but you're crazier than people say you are."

His monologue is boring as fuck, and my tongue soothes the sting on my lip, waiting for it to be over.

It's the same shit. Vlad's a psycho, everyone scream. Blah fucking blah. I'd rather listen to Valya's tantrums, at least he remixes them.

The fucker can't hide his fear when I stare into his beady little eyes. He's kept out of reach, only sending errand boys to inflict long-distance pain with a cattle prod or a gun. My smile feels dark and murderous, matching my voice as he quickly takes a step back.

"Come closer. Unless you're scared even when I'm tied up."

Leno meekly descends the steps down and hides in the corner, but he tries to shake his head at his new master to tell him it's a bad idea. I lock onto his treacherous fucking face and ask, "On cheshet tebe zhivot posle togo, kak ty sosesh' yego chlen?1"

He tenses at the insult but doesn't fucking move and I laugh harder. There's supposed to be kinship among outsiders. He was a member of the Bratva at one point. Even if he was in another security group, we are supposed to remain united against outside factions.

Fucking snake.

Birdie hesitates, and I let him have the attention he wants as I speak calmly, given my position.

"You're a bitch, you weak fuck. My kid nephew killed one of your men and he's a fucking boy."

I ignore the discomfort that coats my tongue at the mention of Viktor. He's fucking powerful and stabbed one of these little MC cunts in the dick with a paintbrush. My laugh comes out again at his choice of weapon and the site he chose to inflict damage. I force my body to go limp, appearing to hang from the chains as it tapers off.

Birdie puffs his chest out and wipes his disgusting, greasy hand down his equally disgusting stomach.

"Looks like the psycho only has so much energy," he takes half a step forward. The coward isn't close enough. I'm going to shove his tongue up his ass instead of gifting it to Inessa when he continues, "Your wife wasn't calling me a bitch when she was riding my cock."

Holding the chains tighter, my teeth ache from how hard I'm clenching my jaw.

"I might have to pay her another visit. The uptight ones are always the best at sucking cock."

No one will touch her, she's under my protection and my brothers won't let anyone close. She is a Vartanova, a queen. My fucking queen. My fucking wife! This ugly cunt doesn't deserve to even exist during the same time as her, never mind touching her or fucking fantasizing about it. She'd reject him in his own imagination because she is that fucking powerful.

He steps closer and examines my face, looking for a reaction. There won't be anything visible. You grow up with Len and you learn to bury everything. You don't mourn, you don't fucking smile, or laugh. The only expression that wasn't met with his fist is blank — no emotions, no weakness.

One more step, that's all he needs to take, and I can get my hands on him. Fuck the moon landing being one small step for man, the small distance between Birdie and me is more significant. It has deeper meaning because it's not for the right to plant a flag but to keep my family protected. He's an arrogant bastard and moves his face closer, giving me my opening. My shoulder burns from the abrupt movement as I drop the chains from my fist and wrap it around his throat.

Blood coats my chest from the bullet wound I didn't know I had, but I don't stop tightening. Our audience looks on with shock and fear, seeing the metal peg twisting through the wall and coming loose with the force. Kicking into the back of Birdie's knee as I tighten the chains around his throat, the crack is like a starting pistol, filling me with adrenaline.

The heavy metal weighs down my arms, but my rage is my fucking fuel. Proving how fucking stupid they are, it only takes me two steps to block the exit. The first rule of torturing someone, you position them further away from any exit, so you don't pass them to leave.

Fucking morons.

Like the snake he is, Leno has disappeared, leaving the remaining members of Satan's Rejects to officially meet the devil. There are three in the room, the same three who have been here since I opened my eyes and my vision wavers as I roll my shoulders. They have their fucking cattle prods, but they're weak now that I'm no longer chained. I already know I'm going to break both hands and slowly wrap the chains around my fist. The clink acts as a metronome, and their eyes dart to their dead leader, then to the staircase behind me.

I put off breaking my hands for as long as possible and whip the chain out. It slams into the wall, slowing down the momentum before hitting Ryder in the side of his neck. A thick welt appears as he chokes.

I feel like one of those superheroes in Viktor's show as I tug it back and watch metal fly out again.They move, trying to escape what they thought would hold me down when I've gone my entire fucking life turning pain into power.

My leg and side burn, making the chains heavier, and I move forward as the one in the middle shakily reaches for his gun. My voice darkens yet still holds levity as I grab the back of his head and drive my knee up into his nose.

"No cheating now."

He manages to get off a shot, but a tremor takes over his hand, making it skim my thigh as I pull his head down to my knee, again. A sharp pain scrapes across my ribs, and I turn to face the fucker who just stabbed me.

I look down as I snap the neck of the bleeding twat who shot me and see a slash. My tut is filled with frustration and insult.

"You have a fucking knife, and you slice?!"

Dropping the second dead man in the room, I grab the wrist of the soon-to-be third and drive his knife into his stomach. His mouth drops open. Stale smoker's breath wafts out, making me grimace. Filthy fucking cunt, he needs to brush his teeth.

"You jab and fucking twist," I helpfully offer.

His wrist cracks as I demonstrate what he's supposed to do.

Ryder is still choking on the floor, and he tries to play dead around his wheezing. Grabbing his hair, I lift him up and wrap my hand around his throat, watching his eyeballs bulge.

I recognize him as the cunt who was trying to undress my wife. My mind hasn't gone blank. Peace isn't washing over me because it knows that I need to remember every detail to counteract the memory of anyone putting their hands on my wife.

My blood roars in my ears as I repeat his exact words and tighten my hold on his neck.

"Scream for help."

My fist lands on his ribs as I try to help him and force it out, but he doesn't fucking scream. Each blow is a backing track to my rage.

"You touched my wife."

He gurgles and loses power in his limbs.

"You tried to make a fucking queen bow!"

The tips of his boots shake lightly, knocking into my shins.

"SHE IS MY WIFE!"

* * *

Every muscle burnsas I climb out of the car, it's lifted, making it easier, but it still jolts my body. I keep my spine straight, refusing to collapse as the guards stare wide-eyed like this isn't my fucking house. I'm glad I found a pair of shorts now, at least they can't see how much of my own blood is on my skin. I'm nearly knocked on my ass as a ball of gray and white flies at me.

Inessa launches her entire body off the steps and manages to wrap her arms and legs around me before I even register that she's there.The force of it rocks me back a step, and my bare soles take the pain of the stones digging into my skin, scraping them further.

There's relief breathed into my neck as she hides.

"You're home. Everything's going to be okay."

Supporting her weight with my good arm under her ass, my other hangs limply. My shoulders are shredded, and I keep my face void of any emotion as I feel her safe in my arms. I can breathe easier. The burning eases despite the pressure of her body on mine. Resisting the urge to press my lips into her cheek, I walk into the house.

I've never been greeted by my brothers at the door, but they're standing with the same disbelief as the guards. Dima, Katya, Anastasia, Dani, and Ana are the same, but Viktor is smug and proudly shouts, "Told you Vlad can't die, he's the biggest monster there is."

He doesn't look angry anymore and Dima isn't miserable. I've known him my entire adult life, he's a prick I class as a friend, and he becomes a weird fuck as he tries to tell Inessa to leave my arms.

"Let him go. We'll get a doctor out."

Ignoring his dumb ass, I keep her in my arms and walk to the elevator. Being rich is helpful as fuck because the thought of taking the stairs has my leg protesting.

Fucking cunts got me three times in the same leg. It wasn't even purposeful, just lucky shots.

Encased in the elevator, watery eyes stare up at me and Inessa slowly cups my face as her bottom lip wobbles. I only have one arm fully useable and turn, pressing her back into the wall so she's stable. Holding her chin with my swollen knuckles, I stroke her bottom lip and her voice cracks, trying to convince herself of her thoughts, "It's other people's blood?"

I look down, but I can only see my chest and abs against her clean thighs. The adorable brat has stolen one of my t-shirts. My voice is gentle, unlike me.

"Would that make you feel better, meelaya2?"

I don't like seeing hurt on her features. It's wrong and doesn't suit her face. Her tears fall, gutting me, and my shoulder protests as I clumsily try to wipe them away. The dried blood on my hands mixes with them, smudging dirty red on her cheeks. The elevator pings, and my silly queen tries to wriggle away as I kiss the tip of her nose. She pauses at the movement, and I don't have the energy to stand so lean into her.

Her hands are hesitantly ghosting over my body and worry coats her features as my eyes close.

"Did they drug you?"

"Hm, yeah, they wore off hours ago," I hum and nod.

She combs her delicate fingers through my hair as the elevator doors close and massages my scalp. Her soothing, gentle voice fills the enclosed space.

"So, why are you being weird then?"

My cheek goes to her shoulder as though it's natural, and she continues massaging me. It feels good to have the dried blood pushed off my scalp, and I hug her without the use of my arms.

"I'm not being weird. Just stay like this a minute, you feel good."

My bratty wife never stays quiet, and I open my eyes to see why. She better not be a hallucination. But she's real and there's a small smile on her lips that doesn't match the tears lining her lashes. She's beautiful even when she's all snotty.

Her smile doesn't dim as she softly whispers, "You missed me."

I nod, forcing energy into the movement.

"Yeah, shut up, so I can stop missing silence."

She cups my cheek with so much care it nearly chokes me. But she breathes life into me as she softly presses her lips to mine and speaks against my lips.

"You didn't shout about me wearing your t-shirt in front of the guards."

I abruptly move back like a Neanderthal with my arms weighed down. She's wearing one of my t-shirts and nothing else. I wish she had on her ugly-ass orange tabby cat pants. My voice lacks its usual heat as I look from her bare legs to her dark eyes alight with amusement.

"You better have shorts on underneath, or we're going to be down an entire security team."

Her smile gets wider, and she does the same as me, losing her ire.

"I love when you speak murder to me. It makes me feel warm inside."

Holding her tighter, she chokes my hips with her thighs, and I lean into her, dispelling any notion she doesn't love this.

"You, meely moy, are like me, don't lie."

She hums and finally gives me the taste I need. Pure oxygen makes me dizzy as she softly moves her lips across mine. Pulling back before I do more damage to my body and fuck her like an animal, I squeeze her ass and press my lips to her cheek.

"Come on, malysh, you've got blood on you."

She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her cheek on her bicep. I don't let her out of my arms as I walk out of the elevator and into our bedroom. Setting Inessa on her feet, I remember her gift and pull the wrapped item from my pocket. I don't put it in her hand, not wanting to get more blood on my queen than I already have.

Inessa doesn't scream this time but throws her head back, laughing, "You're such a freak. Buy me jewelry next time. Or just don't disappear for weeks."

It's only been twelve hours, and I move back with my brows coming together.Her face drops with her voice at my confusion.

"You did go on a killing spree? Instead of coming home like you promised me," she asks in a way that only has one correct answer.

There's no anger at pointing out my lie. It's hope. Preferring everyone to think I was crazed instead of tied up, I nod. But my queen sees too much and assesses my body. The scan is clinical, and she gasps, noticing the holes.

"I'm getting a doctor."

She holds my forearm and puts a hand on my back, trying to guide me like I haven't just carried us both upstairs.

I'm not incapable or someone who needs help and move out of her hold. She follows me into the bathroom, ready to argue, but manages to hold her tongue. It's out of character, and I'll deal with shit in order. I need the fucker's blood off me first, and I do a double take at the reflection in the mirror as I turn on the shower. All the wide eyes make sense because I'm covered in blood. The only thing visible on my face are my eyes, and it's all in different stages of drying from brown to deep red.

The room fills with steam, and my queen storms off, unhappy with not being in control. Kicking off my boots and shorts, even my dick is covered with it, having soaked through the material. The only person's DNA that touches my dick is my wife's, and I quicken my steps, needing it off me as soon as possible.

My head tips back as soon as I'm under the spray, and my eyes close as I fist my length. It's not for pleasure, but I don't want to see anything other than Inessa on my dick. It will go on strike if I think about those dirty fucks. Something thuds on the tile behind me, and I look over my shoulder to see my beautiful, angry wife fixed on my fist.

Her voice is full of reprimand, the teacher voice as she scoffs, "Seriously? Are you going to masturbate in your current state?"

Rather than tell her my thoughts, my lip curls up at her choice of verbiage.

"Don't say masturbate, it's weird as fuck."

It makes it sound educational, like I'm in some sex ed class.

Looking down at what she's put beside her, I move away as though it's dangerous.

"Why have you got a chair?"

It's the one from her vanity, and my dick comes to life in my hand as she pulls my t-shirt off her body. She speaks as though it's perfectly normal and kicks the legs so it's further under the spray, then gestures to it with her hand, "Sit down, your leg is bleeding, and you look like Swiss cheese for fuck's sake."

Am I fuck sitting on a chair to shower. I'm not old or struggling to stand. Ignoring the woman who's raging behind me, I scrub at my scalp, feeling the blood soaked through my strands. Delicate arms wrap around me from behind as she hugs me and uses the softest voice I've ever heard with a word that she's probably only just learnt.

"Please, lapachka3, I'll even shut up for the rest of the day."

Any persuasion she'd built with manners is chased away by the threat. I need her smart mouth to run. It's a form of cognitive behavior therapy. She's been there slowly wearing away at my brain and now I need that constant bullshit to focus.

I hold her wrist and pull her to stand in front of me. The dirty blood has soaked into her strands and stains her cheek from when she was pressed against my back. Cupping her face with both hands, I direct her under the spray and wipe the blood off her cheeks with my thumbs. My voice rumbles at the idea this woman would ever fucking beg.

"Don't be weak, you never beg anyone for anything."

She nods, but her shoulders aren't as straight or strong as usual. I move back, looking down her body as I ask, "Did they fucking touch you?"

It's the only thing I can think of for the change in her demeanor, she's not shy or timid, she's strong and a pain in the ass. She tries to distract me and leans up on her toes, threading her arms around my neck. Everything burns, and I tilt my head out of her reach as I bark her name, not knowing if I want her to lie or not.

"Inessa."

She doesn't flinch and just smiles sweetly at me. Then rolls her eyes, so I know she's okay, and I can fucking breathe.

"Not in the way you're thinking. They just drugged me, and I couldn't see anything."

Just drugged her. As though that's nothing and not a cause for their deaths to have been prolonged for years.