Page 130 of Beautiful Obsessions
The camera angle was wrong—high, fixed, catching only part of the room.The edge of the desk.The long window overlooking the grounds.Snow falling beyond the glass, soft and endless, like the world had decided to cleanse itself while evil lurked within these walls.
Rasputin stood with his back to the room.Waiting.
That was the first thing that struck me.
He was just… standing there, one hand braced against the window frame, head slightly bowed as if he already knew something was coming and had chosen not to run away from it.
My breath caught.
He looked calm.
The door opened behind him.
Viktor stepped inside.
He raised a gun without warning.
Rasputin never turned around, even as a conversation took place.About a minute in, there was a muzzle flash on the screen—sharp and quick.
Rasputin jolted.For a second—just a second—he stayed upright.It looked like he was saying something.
Then the blood spread.Dark.Immediate.Blooming across his back like it had a right to spread.
He didn’t even get the chance to turn.
My stomach dropped out from under me.
There were no words and no confrontation.No final look between father and son.
Just an execution which robbed the breath from my chest.
Rasputin staggered forward, his hand slipping against the glass, leaving a smear before his knees finally gave way.He caught himself once, like his body refused to accept what had already been decided for it.
Then he went down.
The door burst open.
Guards rushed in—fast and unprepared.I saw it in their movements, in the way they slowed when they took in the scene.There was shock.Hesitation.A flicker of humanity before training crushed it flat.
I knew them.Every one of them.
My chest tightened.
Viktor said something.
The audio didn’t carry—just static and the low hum of the camera—but I didn’t need to hear it.
Dispose of it.
The guards moved.
Two of them bent to lift Rasputin, more careful probably than Viktor would have liked.It was as though some part of them still recognized who they were touching, and out of respect for him, they handled him delicately.His head lolled, blood trailing across the floor in a slow, deliberate line.
And that’s when I saw him.
The guard who had brought me the drive.
He was there.
