Heart of My Monster: A Dark Mafia Romance (Monster Trilogy Book 3)
Heart of My Monster: Chapter 26

Drip.

Drip.

Drip!

I slowly open my eyes, bracing myself for the image of my family members’ dead bodies and their blood splashing on my face.

A groan sounds from my right, followed by a low curse and a “Come on!”

I look up, but instead of the bodies hanging above my head, there’s a dark green roof full of spots of black mud at the corners. Cracks spread across the walls like sporadic spiderwebs.

A repugnant stench of humidity makes it hard to inhale properly. My lungs suffocate with every breath, nearly triggering a claustrophobic reaction I never knew I had.

There’s no window, and the only exit is a rusty metal door. Couple that with flickering fluorescent lights, and it’s like a scene from the army’s interrogation room.

The dripping sound comes from a wobbly faucet that’s spilling into a yellowish sink in the corner.

The source of the groaning, however, is Viktor, who’s sitting on a metal chair beside me. Both of us are bound with thick plastic straps that create uncomfortable friction.

I release a breath after I’ve made sure he’s alive and well, despite the dry blood that trickles down his temple.

If something happened to Viktor, Kirill wouldn’t be able to cope, so I’m beyond relieved that he made it.

I rack my brain to think of the reason we’re here.

The last thing I remember was seeing Babushka before someone knocked me out. I assume they did the same to Viktor, but he probably struggled more, which explains the wound he has.

I remember nothing after that except for waking up here.

Judging by the way Viktor is struggling in the chair, it doesn’t look like he can undo the bindings. I test them myself, but they’re strapped too tight all over my arms, chest, and my legs.

“Any luck?” I sound a bit groggy, and I have to clear my throat.

Viktor directs his attention at me and shakes his head. “I’ve been trying to no avail.”

If he can’t make an escape, it’ll be hard for me to come up with an alternative.

Just when I’m thinking of the logistics of trying to flip one of us over or sitting back to back to help one another, the door creaks open.

Both of us freeze as our kidnappers walk inside.

I already saw Babushka earlier with her closed-off expression and terrorizing cane, but the other two who accompany her are a surprise.

My jaw nearly hits the floor as the three of them stop a safe distance away from us.

Babushka stands in the middle and slams her cane on the ground in a clear demand of attention, but I couldn’t look at her even if I wanted to.

My focus is stolen by the other two.

One is Uncle Albert, and while that’s predictable, the third presence isn’t.

Even Viktor narrows his eyes on her, despite still struggling in his chair.

The person who’s staring down at us with her holier-than-thou expression is none other than Yulia.

She looks as elegant as ever in a dark red dress and black designer heels. Her golden hair is pulled into a French twist, and her arms are crossed over her chest.

“What…” I trail off, lost for words. What should I ask in a situation like this?

“I’m disappointed in you, Sasha.” Uncle’s voice carries in the air and slaps me across the face. “I really wanted to give you another chance, but you went ahead and chose to stay with the man who killed your family.”

My lips tremble. “I…don’t believe he did it, and I haven’t seen any evidence that convinces me otherwise.”

Babushka approaches, swings her cane, and hits me with it across my middle. That sense of terror I experienced while we were chased returns with a vengeance.

My baby.

“Insolent! Your father must be rolling in his grave for having a daughter like you.”

“My father wouldn’t have been as heartless as you.” I glare at her and then at Uncle. “What is Yulia doing here?”

“I’m an ally,” the woman herself replies, her nose nearly reaching for the sky. “Since we share the same enemy, it only makes sense that we join forces.”

“If you think Kirill will fall for your tricks—”

“He’s already on his way,” Uncle cuts me off. “Seems that we had his weakness all along. You.”

My spine jerks upright, and the possible subsequent events come to mind.

They kidnapped us to make Kirill come alone, and when he does, they’ll kill him.

I have hope that he knows it’s a trap and won’t come. Or at least, he’ll bring backup.

Surely he’ll realize that he’d be walking straight to his death.

…Right?

“Once that devil is dead,” Yulia says. “Kosta will be the new Pakhan.”

“And Anton will be released and return to his rightful place as the leader of the family,” Babushka says. Her voice is fainter, and upon closer inspection, she looks so much older, as if the winds of time have been blowing in her face.

My mind keeps going back to the fact that they plan to kill Kirill, and if they do that…

No.

I refuse to think of that possibility. No one will be able to take Kirill’s life.

No one.

I meet my grandmother’s malicious gaze with my own. “Ever thought that Anton isn’t interested in leading the family’s shady business? Maybe he’s thinking of another life outside of duty and needless drama and wars.”

“Nonsense. Anton knows his role, and he will take it proudly, unlike a certain traitor in our midst.”

“Traitor? I’m the traitor now?” I ask incredulously. “For the past six years, I lived as a man just to be a puppet for the family that never appreciated me or made me feel like I belonged. I sacrificed myself and my identity to protect you, but you still never made me feel like I was a member of this damn family. You know who did? Kirill! He unconditionally made me his family just because I asked, and if you think I’ll let you kill him based on no proof, then you’re delusional.”

“You’re the only delusional one here,” my uncle says. “You can’t stop us anymore, Sasha. That’s why you’re tied to that chair.”

“We’ll make sure you see him getting killed right in front of your eyes,” Yulia adds.

“He’s your son!”

“I never considered that devil my son. He’s just an eyesore reminder of his fucking father. Once I get rid of him, I’ll finally stop seeing Roman in his damn face.”

“Stop saying that! He has nothing to do with what his father did, and neither does Karina.”

“I’ll get rid of them both one at a time.”

It hits me then, and I slide my attention to Uncle Albert. “When you said you had a source who told you about who executed the massacre and who said Kirill was the mastermind, did you by any chance mean Yulia?”

He nods. “We’ve been exchanging information for a few years.”

“You can’t be serious. You just heard her. All she ever wanted was to get rid of Roman and Kirill. She poisoned her husband for years so his health would deteriorate, and he eventually died. She’s lying so that she’ll be able to throw Kirill under the bus.”

“She heard Roman and Kirill talk about the plan right before he enlisted in the army.”

“She’s lying!” I can’t believe I almost fell for the idea that he could be the one behind the plot of my family’s annihilation.

I should’ve held on to the truth I knew deep in my heart—the fact that Kirill isn’t the type who targets unarmed civilians or children.

And yet I fell for their plans so stupidly, I want to kick myself.

I have not a shadow of a doubt that all of this is part of Yulia’s elaborate plan to snatch power for Konstantin. All these years, she was struggling to even have her family’s support, but she never gave up and never looked like a loser.

Probably because she knew that her alliance with Babushka and Uncle would eventually give her the desired results.

“You’re delusional.” Yulia approaches me and leans forward so that her face is level with mine. “You think he’s all that, but he’s nothing more than a monster. I was right behind the door when Roman asked him what he should do with a certain family that was obstructing his way. Kirill gave him a full report on how to effectively get rid of each and every one of them. You should be thankful, really. I’m delivering you the revenge you couldn’t get yourself.”

I spit on her malicious face. “You’re a narcissistic liar and a bitch. If you think I’ll believe a word out of your mouth, you’re the delusional one.”

Her eyes close, and she wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand, then she slaps me so hard, I reel in my chair.

Her handprint burns on my cheek, and my eyes sting. Viktor tightens his muscles against his bindings and curses. “Don’t touch her!”

“Or else what?” She glares at him. “You’re as useless as she is.”

He growls, and it sounds animalistic in the silence. I exchange a look with him to communicate that he can’t let her rattle him. She’s cut from the same cloth as Kirill, and their type really enjoys playing with other people’s intense emotions.

“You’re right,” Viktor tells me. “She’s a liar. Boss never gave his father any of the plan she’s talking about. In fact, ever since he was shot in Russia, he’s been trying to replace out why the Belsky Organization targeted him.”

The answer is as clear as day: it’s because Yulia fed them this information.

“You should’ve stayed dead after that explosion.” Yulia glares down at me. “I even went through all the trouble of falsifying the DNA test to make that devil believe you died.”

My lips part. “You planned that?”

“And I enjoyed every second of watching Kirill suffer. If you didn’t come back, he would’ve gotten himself killed, but no, you had to be uncooperative.”

“You…you…” I’m lost for words. A part of me can’t believe a mother would willingly hurt her son this deeply, but the other part knows that she can go further than this.

Not only did she never consider Kirill her son, but she also thinks of him as an enemy.

Uncle Albert checks his phone and then smiles. “He’s finally here.”

My heartbeat picks up, and I swallow the saliva flooding my mouth.

Please tell me he brought backup. Please—

My hopes dwindle when the door opens again, and two burly mercenaries lead Kirill inside.

He’s alone.

Fuck.

Damn it!

What the hell was he thinking?

They must’ve taken away his weapons before they led him here, so he’s well and truly defenseless.

All focus turns to him, but his light eyes land on me, and he studies me from toe to head. When he reaches my face, a muscle clenches in his jaw, probably at seeing the red mark on my cheek.

I look back with what must appear to be terrorized fear, my mind reeling with endless questions. Are you here to get killed? How could you fall for this?

But the calm expression on his face manages to ease the agitation, even partially.

The men push him to his knees in front of the three. I wince when he hits the ground with a thud. His back is to me, but I can almost see his nonchalant expression as he looks up at them.

“Lower your damn head, devil.” Yulia slaps him across the face so hard, his head flies to the right.

He looks up at her again, probably with a more provocative expression, because her eyes blaze, and she slaps him harder. “I said lower your head.”

“Stop it!” I struggle against my bindings, wanting to claw her eyes out for daring to hit him after everything she’s made him go through.

“Don’t mind her, Sasha. Mother seems to have an overwhelming hatred toward me, so I’m letting her get the dissatisfaction off her chest.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, you bastard, but today is the last day you breathe. I was willing to let you get higher and enjoy your married life a little more before I destroyed you, but you made a fatal mistake by locking up and torturing my son.”

Oh. So this is why she’s extra venomous today. I was wondering what she’d do if she heard about what Kirill did to his brother, but I didn’t think she’d already had this plan prepared.

Uncle Albert retrieves a gun and points it at Kirill’s head. “Any last wishes?”

“No…” My voice is brittle as I swing back and forth in my chair. Viktor does the same, his face too tight and red.

“Don’t do it, Uncle,” I plead. “He’s not the one behind the massacre. Please, Uncle, if I ever meant anything to you, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, you insolent child.” Babushka taps her cane on the ground. “Do your thing, Albert.”

“One second,” Kirill says with so much nonchalance, it’s baffling, considering the situation. “I assume your proof that I plotted the demise of your family is that Yulia told you so, no?”

Uncle Albert raises a brow. “Are you also going to say that she’s a liar like Sasha did?”

Kirill looks back at me, and a proud, heart-stopping smile lifts the corners of his lips. I return the smile even as tears burn my lids.

I believe in you, I say with my eyes. I’m sorry I wasn’t sure until now.

He stares back at my uncle. “I’m curious. Did you know that my dear mother had an affair with your brother?”

Babushka’s face pales. “What is this nonsense?”

“Shoot him already,” Yulia says.

Uncle Albert’s face doesn’t change as he starts to do just that.

I scream, “No,” but before he can do it, Babushka hits my uncle’s hand, sending the gun flying against the opposite wall. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Yulia’s expression remains cold, but her whole body becomes eerily still.

“Much appreciated. I knew you were the voice of reason,” Kirill says in the same detached tone. “So, the thing is, Yulia had an affair with your son Anatoly for years. As a result, he’s my brother’s biological father. I thought the story ended there, but I found out through a recent letter left by my father that your son ended the affair after his wife got pregnant with their youngest child. Of course, Yulia, who always gets what she wants, didn’t like that. She’s a bit too possessive, my mother. Correction, a lot. If she couldn’t have Anatoly, no one else could. So what did she do? She deliberately let Roman know about the affair. She thought he wasn’t aware of her manipulations, but she missed the fact that he always employed private investigators to make sure any allegations were true. That’s how he knew Anatoly broke up with her exactly a year before the massacre. He still didn’t like the idea of another man having his possession, so when the government approached him with a request to annihilate you, he agreed. But here’s the most important piece of the puzzle, Mrs. Ivanova. Yulia is the one who gave him that plan. But that’s not the end of it. My father left me a memory card that has pictures of Yulia and Anatoly together as well as videos of Anatoly kicking Yulia out of his club when she went to Russia. I invite you to listen to this little recording that will explain my next point better.”

Kirill retrieves his phone, and both Uncle Albert and Yulia lunge at it. Babushka surprisingly hits them both with her cane, keeping them away as Kirill hits Play.

“You mean to tell me I’ll have an opening?” Roman says in Russian.

There’s a sound of skin against skin like someone is peppering kisses all over his face, before Yulia’s voice follows. “Yes, dear. I have an insider in that house who’ll make sure there’s little to no resistance.”

“Are you positive? I will kill your lover.”

“I’m proving that he’s not my lover. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

“Really?”

“Really, dear.”

Gag. Even I can hear the fakery in her tone. Judging by the way he asked, Roman most likely knew, too. However, he probably decided to go with the flow because he wanted to use her anyway.

“Who’s your insider?” he asks.

“Albert. He never liked being under the dictatorial leadership of his mother and brother. Never liked his wife or even his children. They’re good to go, too, as long as he and the old lady stay alive since she’s the one who’ll be able to put him as the head of the family—”

Yulia’s voice comes to an end when Uncle Albert shoots the phone right out of Kirill’s hand.

Babushka’s pale face must mirror mine.

The load of information I just heard makes my head spin, and my heart shrivels in my chest.

Uncle Albert and Yulia were the ones who planned the massacre.

My uncle.

My own uncle killed everyone I ever cared about.

My father’s brother plotted the inhumane butchering of his own family—children included.

“What…” Babushka is lost for words. Her thin, wrinkly lips open and close in a scene I’ve never witnessed before. When she speaks, her voice is barely audible. “What is the meaning of this, Albert?”

“Ahhh.” He laughs almost mockingly. “Fuck. It actually feels good that I can finally drop the annoying mask.”

“Albert!”

“What, Mother, what?” he screams in her face. “You always worshiped Akim and adored Anatoly, but I was the one missing from your list. You never thought I was capable of anything and pushed me back in favor of those other two fuckers all the damn time. You made me marry the least influential woman just to stop me from ever climbing to the top.”

“So you murdered your family?”

He raises a shoulder. “I never considered them my family. They were just a hurdle on my way to success. I would’ve preferred it if Sasha and Tosha hadn’t survived, so I wouldn’t have had anyone blocking my path, but oh well, I will just kill them now.”

“And Mike,” I snarl. “What about him?”

“I needed an heir.” He rolls his eyes. “His mother was alive with him in the closet, and she was so happy that I came to their rescue. I shot that bitch in the head and took him from her arms.”

“Albert…” Tears stream down Babushka’s cheeks for the first time ever. “What have you done?”

“Shut up, Mother. For once in your life, just shut up. I put up with your presence all these years for the power you hold over all the other families. I put up with Tosha and Sasha because they were my eyes in enemy camps. But all of you are unnecessary now.”

My vision is blurred with a waterfall of tears. It’s like I’m staring at a stranger. All these years, I thought we were fighting for the same cause, even if we had different methods, but he’s been the villain all along.

He didn’t only fool me, Anton, Babushka, and Mike, but he’s also been pretending that we’re a family.

My lips tremble. “You…did all of this for power?”

“And to get rid of the annoying people who didn’t allow me to reach my potential. Especially your goddamn father. You and Tosha are so much like him, I want to stab you in the eyes every time I see you. Fuck! It was hard to pretend I liked you when all I wanted to do was kill you. It’s why I sent those mercenaries to attack you on that Spetsnaz mission. Too bad both of you only suffered injuries and refused to die already. And again, you refused to be killed when I sent people trailing after you in the forest after you came back here.”

Oh. My. God.

No wonder that sniper was so focused on me. If Kirill hadn’t been there—in Russia and in the forest—I would’ve died for sure. Same for Anton—if Maksim and Viktor hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have been able to escape with a mere hand injury.

“So it was you.”

Everyone’s attention turns to the newcomers, Anton—the one who spoke just now—Maksim, and…Konstantin.

He’s standing there without a single bruise on his face. Their grim expressions indicate that they heard the entire thing.

Only Babushka is still gaping at her second-born as if he’s a ghost.

Or perhaps a demon in human form.

The guards glance at my uncle, probably waiting for an order, but if he tells them to go after the three who just arrived, that means they’ll have to let go of Kirill.

Given that, shouldn’t they have more guards around here?

“That’s also why you didn’t come to my rescue all this time,” Anton continues. “You hoped Kirill would kill me while you convinced Babushka that you were working on the logistics. An excuse you always use whenever you need more time.”

“Aren’t you the bright one?” my uncle says with a note of mockery. “You should’ve died with your parents, but you refused to, even after they put three bullets in your body.”

“You…” Babushka’s voice sounds raw, haunted, as she chokes on her tears and raises her cane in his direction. “You murdered my children…and my grandchildren… I will tear you limb from limb, you ungrateful bastard—”

Her cane hits the floor first as a bullet lodges in her forehead. I scream as she drops to the floor, her lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

“I told you to shut the fuck up.” My uncle sighs and shakes his head. “Now you’ll be silent forever.”

Anton runs to Babushka, followed closely by Maksim. “Babushka…”

“You’re next.” My uncle points the gun at him. “And then Sasha and her bothersome husband. That way, no one will be in my way to get to the throne.”

Anton glares up at him and brings out his own gun. “Put down your fucking weapon. This place is surrounded.”

“Nonsense,” Yulia says. “Didn’t your men make sure Kirill came alone, Albert?”

The man in question, Kirill, looks at the guys holding him. “Are we going to do this nicely or not so nicely?”

They exchange a look but hesitantly remain in place.

“Not so nicely, then.”

He effortlessly removes his shoulder from one guy’s hold and starts to kick the other away, but Yulia steals a gun from one of the guards and points it at Kirill.

“Not another move. I won’t allow you to keep living.”

“Mother, stop!” Konstantin rushes to her side.

“Don’t even try to change my mind, Kosta! He locked you up and tortured you.”

“He didn’t. He just wanted to prove something.”

“Prove something?” she echoes.

“The fact that you used Makar to try and kill my wife,” Kirill says with harshness that chills me to the bone. “You made him tell me it was Konstantin and even forged evidence for it. You provoked me to hurt him so that you could save him and prove that I don’t care about him. You wanted him to come crawling back to you because you’re the only one who loves him. But what to do, Mother? I’m one step ahead of you. I pretended to fall for your trick and made everyone in the house believe it so your spy would give you the right information. I forced you to reveal your true colors to Konstantin.”

“You can’t possibly believe this devil, Kosta,” she says with calm determination. “Everything I did, I did for you.”

“Then stop it, Mother,” he pleads. “Just stop it already. I never wanted anything you gave me. Never asked for it, either, so stop forcing it on me.”

“How…how can you say that?” She glares back at Kirill. “It’s all because of you! I knew you’d be a damn nightmare from day one, you fucking devil spawn. Just die!”

“Nooo!” I scream as she takes the shot.

Everything happens too fast.

Uncle shoots at the same time, and then a few more shots follow.

Blood spills.

And more blood.

And it splatters on me.

No, it’s coming from inside me.

My head gets dizzy as I look down and replace my thighs soaked with blood.

Someone calls my name, but my head rolls back, and everything goes black.