Page 153 of The Darkness is Calling

I wish I had that superpower too, but I’m sure fear is written all over mine.

“Serioja, what a pleasant surprise,” the Pakhan says in a bored tone.

“That’s life, Pakhan,” he says proudly, shrugging with nonchalance. “There’s more money on this side, and I don’t have to deal with psychopaths like you anymore.”

“You changed sides, but you’re still a little dog. At least does your new master pat you on the head?”

“My new boss is an honorable man, one who wouldn’t throw everything away for a suka. He knows how to make money and how to make others rich too. You betrayed the family when you left Moscow, and now you’ve done it again, for her!”

I can swear he’s one step away from spitting on my face, but he keeps only that ugly grimace as he looks at me with revulsion.

“Besides,” he adds, “I have a small debt to settle with you after you refused to marry my sister three years ago.”

“As you can see, my tastes are far more refined,” the dark-haired man says, winking in my direction.

“Let’s see how much you’ll still like your whore after we’re done with her,” Oliver cuts in, and he and this Serioja start laughing.

I flinch, barely perceptibly.

Is my death really that close?

“She is a beautiful whore. I wouldn’t have minded playing with her a little before killing her.”

“You don’t have what it takes. She doesn’t even moan like one,” Oliver continues. “Good thing I had other women to satisfy me these past two years.”

My stomach tightens and nausea washes over me just remembering that this man touched me.

But Artem chuckles and looks at me with tenderness.

“That’s because you don’t know how to touch a woman like Ekaterina,” he says with a small smile on his face. “She is a goddess and a piece of trash like you should never even have been allowed to look at.”

Then he turns his gaze to Oliver and continues with serenity and calm that send cold shivers through me.

“But don’t worry. First, I’ll take out one of your eyes, but I’ll leave you the other one so you can watch while I cut pieces off you, one by one. I’ll start with the fingers that touched her.”

“That’s a lot of imagination for a man tied to a chair, one who’s about to shoot his whore in the head,” the Russian says, frustrated, then stretches a hand toward the red-haired man, who hands him a revolver.

With a smile that shows his crooked teeth, the Russian slams it onto the table between me and Artem.

My heart stops, but my husband looks as if he’s one second away from yawning with boredom.

I start to panic even more, knowing that the man I love embraces death without the slightest concern. He isn’t afraid of it.

I, however, am terrified.

“Nothing is more beautiful than Russian roulette played between two people born in Mother Russia. One single bullet, four shots each. This game is marvelous!” the Russian exclaims with petty amusement, and Oliver joins him.

I don’t even think I’m breathing anymore, my gaze fixed on the weapon that will bring our end. My blood is frozen in my veins, and tears blur my vision.

It can’t be... Not like this... No...

“Ekaterina. Look at me.”

Over their voices and the pounding of my

pulse, I barely hear Artem’s harsh voice calling me, making me focus on him.

I blink the tears away, and I barely manage to see his beautiful face.