Page 122 of His Ruin
She stares at me softly, her eyes flickering with deep emotion. “When I had to pick you up the first time, and I swore to myself I would do anything in my power to make sure you weren’t broken like that ever again.”
Chapter fifty-three
Kaden
WhenIvancalls,it’snever because he’s craving friendly company. It’s because he needs something from me. Which leaves me with the urge to fucking strangle the Pahkan for interrupting my time with Melody.
But I know I have to play nice. Especially if I want to stick close to her. I have to follow his rules and still be present during operations to keep our agreement secured tightly. I’m probably the most docile I’ve ever been, like a damn dog waiting for its owner to drop a bone.
My phone is warm in my hands as I hold it to my ear. “I’ll handle it.”
Ivan hums. “I don’t want any survivors.”
I stare at the safe house, my head tilting as I watch figures shuffle past the tinted windows. “They’re already dead, and they have no idea.”
The line goes dead as I finish my cigarette in peace. I watch the movement of the traitors as they work diligently. They have no idea their Pahkan has already caught onto their mutiny and sent death himself to their doorstep.
But they will soon enough.
Four men.
All were once highly regarded enforcers who held a special place with Boris, the King, before his tragic passing. They slipped through the cracks somehow, finding their way to New York to start fresh and blend in with Ivan’s current runners.
My head tilts as I examine every soaked edge of the house’s wood. Gasoline is a tool I don’t use often, but on special occasions, how could I not? There’s nothing better than an open fire in the dead of winter.
I flick my burning cigarette onto the porch, watching as it instantly catches fire. “Oops.”
I ease back against my car, tucking my hands in my pockets as I watch the flames lick up the side of the home quickly. It takes a few minutes for anyone inside to notice they’re being roasted alive. I pull my gun from its holster, waiting to see if anyone gets a wild hair and actually makes it out of the burning building. The wood crackles loudly, splintering as a scream pieces the air.
Someone’s on fire.
The front door swings open, but the flames are too much as a man runs out. He makes it down the steps, falling to his knees before me as he attempts to drop and roll, but his whole body is engulfed. Charred skin touches my nose as I watch him with sick amusement.
His screams turn to gurgled groans as he sags lifelessly against the paved sidewalk. His back rises, but it’s only on reflex. The sounds around me are a symphony of suffering as the two other men inside attempt to make it out. One crashes through a window, hurling his body’s momentum forward as he lands in the snow.
I raise the barrel of my gun to him, giving him a chance to turn on his heel and book it for the dense forest that blankets the backyard. He’s a good twenty feet away, freedom in his grasp when I fire, and the crack pierces the air. His head juts forward unnaturally before he sprawls to the Earth in a heap.
Only one more left. I wait him out, crossing my ankles as I hum a tune. It doesn’t take long before the whole foundation cracks and he’s buried beneath the debris.
“Ouch,” I muse.
He yells for help, begging anyone close to rescue him from the confines of the building. I kick off my car, sauntering over to the burning porch as the heat of the fire bites past my jacket. I crouch down, resting my hands on my knees as I make eye contact with the shaken man lying on his stomach in an attempt to escape the fire roiling over him.
“No one can save you,” I snicker cruelly. “The Pahkan sends his regards.”
His eyes widen as the color drains from his face. “Smerti.”
“In the flesh,” I snarl as the ceiling gives and crumbles on top of him. I bounce up from my spot, slinging my keys around my finger as I dial Ivan back.
He picks up on the second ring. “That was fast.”
I shrug as if he can see me. “I work well when I have a reward system.”
He sighs deeply, the weight of our deal strangling him. “How is that going?”
I get in my car, slamming the door behind me. “I hope you have a tux. You’ll be attending a wedding soon.”
He growls into the receiver. “You can’t force Melody to marry you—”
