Sovereign in an Iron Fist 1
Marko sat back in his leather chair, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. The noise, the chaos, the constant problems—it all circled in his mind like a storm. And then there was her, pounding on the door, screaming, her voice cutting through the tension like nails on glass. Why couldn't she just shut the f**k up?
Across the room, Julio, Ivan, and Andrei stood at attention, exchanging knowing glances. They knew exactly what was coming. Julio, the most seasoned of the three, thought to himself , how the the f**k, after so many years, could she still stand there, pissing Marko off. She couldn't be that stupid, could she? Every time she started on one of her crazy rants, it ended the same way—with her hurt. Marko never overlooked it. It didn't matter that she was pregnant—he didn't give a damn. She was supposed to be quiet, but here she was, shouting and cursing, pushing his limits yet again.
Marko's eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy, like a bull ready to charge. His fists slammed down on the dark mahogany table, rattling the glasses. In a swift movement, he stormed to the door and yanked it open. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her down the hall. "I'll teach you to respect me, you ungrateful little cunt!" he bellowed. Her screams echoed off the walls, but he didn't care. He didn't stop. The door slammed shut behind them with a deafening bang, followed by silence. Marko had made all the rooms soundproof—but everyone knew what was happening in there. He didn't hide it. Even if she made a scene in front of her family, Marko would do whatever needed to be done. He didn't give a f**k.
Julio remembered when Marko first married her, Two days after the wedding, she caught him in bed with her younger cousin. Furious, she cursed at him, shouting loud enough for the entire family to come running. But cold as ever, Marko didn't care. He had f****d the cousin in front of her whole family, and when he was done, he asked them if they had enjoyed the show. He then stood up naked, hit his wife several times not slap, but serious punched her, right in front of them all. Her father had tried to intervene, but Marko only laughed, saying, "Maybe next time, you'll look deeper into who you force your daughter to marry." Then he dragged Kathrina out with him, like it was nothing.
The three men remained silent, waiting. They heard the door slam again, and Julio poured a glass of whiskey just as Marko's heavy footsteps returned. The door opened, and there he was, fury simmering in his eyes.
"f*****g stupid cunt," Marko muttered, downing the whiskey in one go. "If she wasn't pregnant, I'd have killed her with my bare hands." He poured himself another glass. "The only thing I asked her to do was to shut the f**k up. Next time, I'll cut her goddamn tongue out."
Julio handed him a folder, and Marko snatched it, flipping through the papers quickly. "Mmm, okay... five. Good." He tossed it back, shifting his focus to business.
"Give me the updates on the shipment," he demanded, sitting down.
Andrei spoke up first. "Everything's going as planned, sir. The boys are ready to distribute."
Marko nodded, then turned to Ivan. "Full house, no complaints—except for one," Ivan added.
"Who?" Marko asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Miss Laila," Ivan replied. "The one brought to the club last week. She's a headache. Complains constantly, refuses customers..."
Marko leaned back, annoyed. "Is she worth keeping?"
Ivan hesitated. "She's popular. Lots of requests for her."
Marko swore under his breath. "Fine. I'll deal with her. What about the f*****g snitch and his family?"
"Handled," Julio confirmed.
"And tonight? Everything ready?"
"Yes, sir."
Marko stood, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Good. Let's head to Club Happy and visit Miss Laila."
On the way to the club, Ivan filled him in on Laila. When they arrived, Marko played the part, greeting customers, flirting with the girls, indulging in a drink while Ivan located Laila. Once Ivan returned, informing him she was in the back room, Marko kissed one of the girls on the cheek, whispering, "Later, baby," before heading off to deal with her.
Laila sat in the back room, sulking in her show outfit, her anger palpable. Marko took a seat, exuding calm. "What's the problem, Laila?"
Unaware of who he was, she barely looked at him. "Why don't you piss off?"
Marko's smile faded. "Ay, ay, ay, Laila... What kind of attitude is that?" In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back to force her to meet his gaze. "Listen, you ungrateful b***h. If shaking that perfect ass God gave you when I say isn't enough of a reason, maybe this will be."
He motioned to Ivan, who handed him a photo. Marko shoved it in Laila's face. Her eyes widened as she recognized her father in the picture. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"You know this old man?" Marko sneered. "My men are already on their way to his nursing home. Now, are you going to behave, or should I tell them to pay him a little visit?"
Laila's defiance crumbled. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll behave."
"Good girl. You have a great body—you shouldn't hide it." He squeezed her face between his fingers. "My men will make sure you do behave, and if I hear anything about you again, say goodbye to daddy."
Marko left her with his men, her screams following him as he walked away with a satisfied grin. He returned to the club floor, grabbing the girl he had kissed earlier and pulling her into a private room.
Afterwards, as he stepped back outside, Julio, Ivan, and Andrei were waiting. He clapped Ivan on the back. "Let's get ready for tonight's party."
