Chapter 37 Episode 37
1599 Words
I’ve spent my entire life focused on my Bratva. On rebuildingthe empire that was stolen from my grandfather. Ondismantling the Battiato mafia and owning every inch of thiscity.
No woman is worth throwing all of that away.
Suddenly, Florian squeezes my shoulders. “Relax, Mr.Zhukova.”
I drop my shoulders and roll my head from side to side.
“So you really love her, then?”
“Love who?” I snort. I can’t remember the last time Florianhad so much to say.
“Your fiancée,” he says. “But since I had to remind you,maybe you’re thinking of someone else.”
“I’m not thinking of anyone.”
Now, it’s his turn to snort. “I’ve tailored too many grooms tocount. I can tell when the man is distracted. When there issomeone else.”
Is that who Belle is—someone else? If anything, Xena feelslike the other woman.
“Why the f**k do you even care?”
He stretches the tape across my back and then down my arms,mumbling numbers under his breath. Finally, he looks over myshoulder and catches my eyes in the mirror. “Because if youback out of the wedding, I might not get paid.”
I smirk. “You always have the bottom line in mind, don’tyou?”
“That’s how I’ve been in business so long,” he says. “Is thisother woman going to be a problem?”
“So far, she’s been nothing but,” I mutter.
Belle shouldn’t even be on my radar. She should have beenjust another cog in my machine, doing her part and thenleaving.
But things went too far. A mess I need to clean up.
Florian squints. “What did you say?”
I sigh. “No, she won’t be a problem. She’ll be gone soonenough.”
Especially now that f*****g Roger showed up to help her. Theman is as gullible as he is repulsive. Seeing her wrap her armsaround him, hugging him like he was some kind of savior…As if that sorry sack of s**t could defend her from me. As ifshe needs defending from me at all.
I should have peeled his grimy hands away from her. Bellemay be innocent, but Roger isn’t. The look in his eyes whenhe touched her made me see red. Motherfucker is lucky he’sstill breathing.
Florian turns away from me to jot down measurements on apiece of paper. I reach for my phone. I told myself when I leftthe office that I wouldn’t check the cameras. Belle and Rogerwere still in the conference room, hunched over a singlelaptop, sitting way too close together.
But still, I find myself opening the app and pulling up the feedof security footage. I scroll through to Conference Room #3and click the livestream.
The room is empty. For a moment, I let that calm me.
Then I notice Belle’s purse sitting on the table, her laptopopen, papers strewn around. The room is empty, but she isn’tgone. She’s in the building somewhere.
Quickly, I flick through all of the streams, looking in on emptyhallways and offices, checking in on the dark break rooms andmy office.
But it’s the last camera that shows me what I’m looking for.
The lobby camera shows Bridget’s desk and a portion of themain hallway. And Roger is standing just at the top of thescreen.
No, he isn’t standing. He’s leaning into a door, ramming all ofhis weight against it again and again.
I switch to the recorded tape and scroll back five minutes. Justfar enough back to see Belle run down the hallway and duckinto the storage closet, Roger hot on her tail. Her shirt wasopen at the collar, her bra exposed.
“I have to go, Florian,” I snarl, stepping off the raisedplatform.
“I’m not done, sir. You have to—”
“Go,” I finish for him, switching back to the livestream on myway out the door. Roger still isn’t in the closet yet. For hissake, he better hope he never breaks in. “I’ll bring the suitback.”
“In one piece, please,” he begs.
I don’t bother answering. He’s seen enough of my ruined suitsto know that’s a promise I can’t keep.
With the security footage still flickering on my phone screen, Istep outside and break into a run. I’m two blocks down fromthe building. It will be faster to run than to drive.
And the faster I get into Zhukova Incorporated, the sooner Ican tear Roger limb from useless limb.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Zhukova?” the security guard askswhen I burst into the building. “Do you need any assistance?”
I could ask him to come help me dispose of Roger. It would beeasier that way. But part of me is looking forward to takingcare of the bastard myself.
“I haven’t needed assistance since the day I was born, Stan.”
The elevator doors close on his frowning face.
The ride up is agonizingly slow. I bounce from foot to foot,trembling with pent-up energy. My cell service cuts out in theelevator, but thus far, Roger still hasn’t made it into the storagecloset.
The familiar pulse of adrenaline moves through me. It’salways the same before a fight.
As soon as the doors open, I launch forward into mayhem.
“Open the f*****g door, you b***h!”
Roger is yelling so loudly he didn’t hear the elevator dingwhen it arrived. He certainly doesn’t hear me coming.
Which makes the thud of his forehead bouncing off the solidwooden door even more satisfying.
I’m palming the back of his head, holding it like a coconut I’dlike to crack. And f**k, I’d like to do exactly that. Break himopen, spill his insides until there is nothing left.
Before he can finish, I bash his head against the door again.
I release him and step back, watching as he staggers awayfrom the door, blood streaming down his face. His eyes areglazed over, unseeing. He swipes out at me with both arms,but misses horribly.
In different circumstances, I’d revel in pounding Roger intomincemeat. I’d beat him bloody and then beat him some more.
But not when Belle is trapped in a closet, terrified.
Roger stumbles against the wall. I punch him again. His headsnaps to the side and he drops to his knees.
“Why are you—” His lip is split, blood dribbling down hischin. “Why?”
He doesn’t deserve an explanation.
“No more questions, motherfucker,” I hiss, just before I drivemy knee into his chin.
He’s unconscious before his body hits the floor.
I step over him and reach for the door, but before I can grabthe handle, the door flings open. Then Belle is lunging out atme, an industrial-sized hole punch wielded high above herhead.
“Get away from me, you perverted—”
I see the moment it hits her. The moment she recognizes me,the moment she realizes Roger is incapacitated and I’m theone on the other side of the door. Her eyes widen in shock andhorror, but she’s already bringing the metal hole punch downtowards my face.
And she can’t stop it.
I duck down and dodge to the right, but the heavy piece ofmetal catches my shoulder. Pain radiates down my arm likelightning.
Belle drops the hole punch, which lands on Roger’s limp leg,and stumbles against the wall. She catches herself with herpalms and looks back over her shoulder at me.
Immediately, an image appears to me. Belle pressed against awall. Her head tucked against my neck as I drive into her. Mypants tighten instantly, the adrenaline I feel from stoppingRoger channeling into a different emotion altogether.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
I shake my head, clearing the vision. “I think I should be theone asking you that. What the hell happened?”
She glances down at Roger. Another ripple of fear movesthrough her. It makes me want to finish what I started.
“He… he came onto me.” Her face flushes like she’sembarrassed. As if she has anything to be embarrassed about.“I tried to turn him down, but he attacked me.”
She grabs her torn shirt and holds it closed over her chest.
Rage burns red behind my eyes, making it hard to thinkstraight. I clench my jaw. “Did he hurt you?”
“I got away. I ran,” she mumbles through thick lips. “Intothere. I’d just decided to try and fight me way out when you
“You would’ve succeeded, too. That thing is heavy.”
She looks down at where the hole punch leans against his leg,a small smile playing on her lips. “I hope it leaves a hugebruise.”
“He deserves worse for what he tried to do. I’ll see that he getsit.”
The reminder of how bad things could have turned out stealsher smile away. Her hands start to shake, and I can seerealization washing over her. She stumbles back into the wall,legs shaking.
“I’m here,” I say as I reach out and grab her arm to stabilizeher. “You’re safe.”
“But I need this job,” she says in a sob. “Oh, f**k. f**k! Whathave I—Is he going to be okay?”
Belle bends down like she’s going to tend to Roger, but I haulher back up.
“Hey,” she protests. “I need to—”
“Get the f**k away from this r****t pig,” I finish. “I’ll dealwith Roger. And then I’ll deal with you. Everything will befine.”
- Writer
