“So, this is a hit?” I hoped I sounded curious as I slid a shaking hand down the front of my dress and slowly started to hike it up.
“Imagine when your daddy finds you on the beach, dress ripped, virginity stolen—”
“Then don’t let me die a virgin. If you’re gonna kill me, you may as well send me off with a nice screw. That is unless your dick’s tiny. And if that’s the case, no thank you.”
He shoved me forward. “You little bitch!”
I laughed, hoping to taunt him. “Oh, wow, so it is small? Is this your kink, then? You have to wait until the girls are dead so they don’t point and laugh?”
“Shut your mouth!” he roared as I continued lifting my dress, inviting him to watch. His eyes were furious, but his jaw went slack when he saw what I was doing.
“Like what you see, tiny dick?”
“Say it again, and I won’t do it.”
I pouted. “Fine. Tell me how much you want me, gorgeous.”
He grunted. “Better.”
Men were idiots.
I sauntered toward him as he jerked off his tie then pulled his black trousers loose, taking himself in hand with a moan.
I nearly barfed as I smiled up at him. “That’s hot…”
“You’re not…”
“Yeah, too bad I’m about to be dead…cold…”
“I have to.” He hissed out a grunt as I moved toward him and then gripped him with my hand, shoving his away. “Oh, shit…”
“Glad to be proven wrong…” I whispered. One hand worked him, and the other finally reached the holster around my upper thigh. I slowly slid my knife out.
His eyes popped open.
I gripped him harder.
He stumbled forward just as I pushed the tip of my blade toward his stomach and shoved, using the momentum of his body to get it in deep.
“Son of a bitch!” He slammed me away from him, my knife still sticking out of his gut as blood stained his hands. “I’m gonna kill you!”
He grabbed me by the hair. I kicked him in the thigh and then kneed him in his engorged dick before he slammed me back against the rocks.
He jerked out the knife and came at me.
I jumped to my feet and knew in that moment that every moment spent training with my dad at five in the morning and learning how to defend, how to kill, came down to this man and my life.
His smile flashed before my eyes.
My cousins’ hurtful words came next.
And then Tank, calling me “little girl” as I shot toward Jenner and flipped myself around to his back, putting him in a chokehold as he tried to slam his body back against the rocks.
With each slam of rock digging into my skin, I held tighter.
And I screamed.
I screamed until my voice was hoarse.
And until he stopped moving.
And then I screamed some more, only to hear Maksim’s voice.
“No, get away. I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” I yelled.
“Tiny!” Maksim peeled me away from Jenner and held me in his arms, bloody. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me, it’s just me…calm down, he’s dead…”
“H-he’s dead? Are you sure?” I was shaking like a leaf as he held me close in his arms. “Are you sure?”
Maksim squeezed me harder and whispered, “You were fucking brilliant, Tiny.”
Blood stained my hands.
Tears stained my cheeks.
I would have scars forever on the inside.
And on my back.
And I knew, in that moment, that I’d just gone from sitting at the kid’s table to being made.
All before my time.
I’d killed Jenner.
And part of my innocence had died with him.
Chapter Two
Kartini
Present Day
“You look like shit.” Izzy plopped down on my bed with her phone and yawned. How she managed to look completely put-together in nothing but knee-high boots and a long sweatshirt was truly beyond my comprehension. She made effortless look chic and flawless.
“Thanks, bitch.” I smacked her on the ass then studied myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I still saw the blood on my hands.
Other times, I woke up with a choking sensation as Jenner promised to screw me after he killed me.
The worst was when I heard his dark chuckle, his voice still whispering my name as if he had a right to even conjure it from the pit of Hell.
Therapy hadn’t worked. Thanks, Dad. At least you tried.
And acting out was the only thing that made me feel…alive.
Less dead.
Less like a disappointment.
God, that had been the worst day.
Truly the absolute worst of my existence.
And it wasn’t just Jenner’s death.
It was that he’d told. Maksim.
He’d told my dad. My hero. Mine.
Maksim had brought me to him.
No longer the perfect princess but broken, bruised, battered, used, even though my virginity was still intact at seventeen—yay, me.
I couldn’t scratch the image of leaving him on that dance floor and then returning a failure from my mind. Even though he’d said he was proud of me, I could see the sadness in his eyes.