Her breath caught. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
I shook my head before she finished. “I never wanted that ugliness to touch you.”
“I would have helped you no matter what. I would have talked to my father, made them take care of you.”
I laughed humorlessly.
“I was hopeless. They started training me early.” At her confused look, I pressed on. “To kill, Anastasia. They trained me to be brutal, to fight without mercy. They wanted me to be a savage, their machine that would make them more money in the underground fighting circuit, and therefore give them more power.”
I could see the horror on her face as she stared at me, her shock evident. She didn’t want to believe it, but she did.
“That’s why they took you away? That’s where you went?” I could see the wetness start to form in the corners of her eyes, glossy like little diamonds.
“That’s why they took me.” I said it so matter-of-factly it sounded detached and cold enough she flinched.
“For a decade you’ve been—”
“—killing. I’ve been killing, Anastasia. Shamelessly.”
She was shaking her head before I even finished. “You’re not… you’re not Kostya.”
“I told you who I was. I haven’t been Kostya for a long time.”
She stayed silent for so long I wondered if she’d finally accepted the shock that had settled into her. But then she exhaled a shaky breath.
“Did you do something to Ivan?” Her voice was low.
I could still see how nervous she was, her anxiety surrounding her like a thick cloak. Her pupils were blown, and her chest was rising and falling faster than normal.
My girl was moments from freaking the fuck out.
God, she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t deserve her, I was far too ugly on the inside and out to ever be good enough, but that wasn’t going to stop me from making sure everybody knew she was mine.
I wouldn’t sugarcoat anything, wouldn’t be gentle or easy as I told her what happened over the past ten years, and how I wasn’t the Kostya she once knew.
I wasn’t good for anyone or anything. I was only good at one particular task. Maiming. Killing. Just violence as a whole.
“Yes.” That one word came out of me as easily as taking in a breath. But if she wanted me to show any kind of remorse, any kind of guilt, it would never happen. I was no longer wired that way.
She glanced away and I saw the slender arch of her throat move as she swallowed. “Why?” When I didn’t answer right away she looked back at me.
“You know why.” I let those words hang between us. “And it has nothing to do with what a piece of shit Ivan really was.”
“I’m not yours.”
Something dark and deadly coiled inside of me when I heard her say that. It was as if poison had been slowly pushed into my veins. Drip, drip, drip like acid eating me away from the inside out.
Her words were so potent to me that I actually growled, which in turn had her pressing her back to the headboard as her fear manifested all around her.
I braced my palms on either side of her hips, leaned forward, and scented her, flaring my nostrils as I took in her scent. I was all up in her space, forcing her to hear me, see me, but especially feel me.
“You’ve been mine, Anastasia. You’ve been mine since the very beginning.” I heard her swallow, watched her pupils expand even more. “I won’t let anyone else have you. That’s why I killed Ivan. That’s why I killed Igor. They tried to make it so you were someone else’s.” I bared my teeth. “Your father is next.”
“You’re… insane.”
I pulled back and slowly shook my head. “I’m nothing. Not anymore. Don’t you understand, Ana?” I reached out and she flinched. I cupped her cheek, running my finger along her smooth skin. “I’m just a vessel for all the nastiness that’s in the world. All that hatred men have in their hearts.” I let go of her and held my hands out. “I am that ugliness manifested in its purest, purest form, baby.”
I stood and walked to the door, but when I heard her exhale, I stopped and looked over my shoulder.
“I’m not yours to keep.”
I turned slowly and grinned. “My sweet, naive girl. We both know that’s a lie.”
Chapter
Sixteen
Anastasia
I’d gone through a lot of emotions in the very short time I’d been in Kostya’s presence.
I didn’t feel fear anymore. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He was too… possessive of me, as if he saw me as a piece of furniture, his possession.
He’d only been gone for five minutes before he returned with a sandwich and bag of chips, another bottle of water, and an apple.
I’d thought of chucking the damn fruit at his head, but the nausea had faded and I was hungry. I figured I needed my strength to deal with whatever was going to happen next.