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  "Das genügt." A large shadow fell over the arguing pair who were swearing at each other. Reaching one hand out and pulling Jazz off Kiernan, the impossibly large blonde man glared at Jazz. She snarled at him, though she had to crane her neck up just to look the large German in the eye.

  The blonde haired, blue eyed giant with a single scar that ran along the right side of his face was handsome, but in that 'Are you going to kill me or fuck me' kind of way. He was a German mercenary named Fritz, and he was currently on more Most Wanted lists than anyone in the basement. Fritz didn't strike me as mean-natured, just matter of fact with his lot in life, and I couldn't hate the man for that. I actually envied the contract killer who so matter-of-factly played the cards Fate had dealt him.

  I, on the other hand, could feel myself being forced by my present circumstances towards a dark abyss in my mind. Having been forced to stare at that dark abyss for some time, I knew if I fell - or was more likely pushed- into it, I would not emerge the same. Nor would I deal with it as blithely as Fritz had.

  Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I held them back with an iron determination that had been forging itself over the past year. Unlike everyone in the basement prison, I had grown up in a mostly loving home and had been raised as an average girl in the States. Yes, I had grown up in a single parent household, but my mother had made sure to provide for us and we had always been close with my extended family on her side. I had siblings, nieces and nephews, and a close group of friends. I had been living paycheck to paycheck while going to college but had just been starting a career that would have proved to be lucrative, all the while teaching self-defense classes at the local YMCA. I had been popular and well loved by those around me. People had been describing me as ‘a gentle soul’ and comparing me to my sweetheart of a mother for as long as I could remember.

  From the depths of my mind came the familiar soft, mocking laughter that I tried every day to suppress. The serpentine smile that I knew would follow slithered its way along the edges of my consciousness. And like clockwork, the final piece of my delusion snapped into place - the low, hissing voice of my inner demon that echoed inside the broken shards of my mind.

  You were living a lie.

  I closed my eyes, squeezing tightly. No, no, no. The delusion slowly receded, leaving me with shaking limbs and a battered heart. Taking a deep, cleansing breath - just like I was taught from years of therapy - I opened my eyes and pasted on the cold smile that I had been developing to perfection. Distraction. I needed a distraction to dispel the final remnants of my latest episode. Focusing on something else always helped, and I decided on reflecting on all that had happened to me over the coarse of the past year.

  I had been drugged, kidnapped, and shipped to Russia for the sole purpose of pleasuring a mafia boss. Apparently, the boss, who everyone merely called Korol - meaning 'The King"- was rumored to be the most powerful Pakhan in all of Russia. As my personal guard had explained to me, the Pakhans were like the godfathers of the Russian mafia and controlled not only parts of the government, but also the people of the country with their vast influence and wealth. Korol was the most feared in all of Russia, not only because he controlled most of the drug and human trafficking trade routes, but also because nobody spoke his real name or would disclose his physical features in any way.

  He was a phantom. Though his physical appearance was a mystery, his iron fist of power clasped the nation with a tangible ferocity. His network of influence reached nearly every corner of Russia and he was expanding in both the United States and Western Europe. Which is exactly why we had both been in that club in Detroit, which was owned by his organization, so they could use it as a front for drug running through Canada.

  All of this had of course been unknown to me when I had gone out that fateful night with some girlfriends from work. Korol had watched me throughout the night, I had been told, and he had sealed my fate with one command to his personal guards. They had followed me home, drugged me right on my front door step and had spirited me away in a private jet to Russia in less time than it took for my grandfather to finish telling a story after a few shots of whiskey. Zakhar had told me that it had been only too easy, since I had insisted on being a strong, independent woman and leaving the bar by myself. I hadn’t even told the Lyft driver to wait until I had gotten in the house after dropping me off.

  As Zak has told me repeatedly, what a stupid fucking move.

  I sighed at the thought of my personal bodyguard who had been the only person who had really talked to me during my time in this foreign country. He had been the only one really allowed close to me, aside from Korol’s personal bodyguards, all of whom could have their own Dateline special on how psychotic they were. I had gotten all my information from Zak, and he had proved himself invaluable to me time and time again.

  After arriving to the mansion above us- Korol’s country residence in Russia- Zakhar had been the one to help me acclimate to my new surroundings and helped me not give in to my panic and depression. Zakhar was one of Korol’s paper-pushers and was one of the only decent people I had met in Korol’s employ. Well, aside from the maids, who doubled as whores for Korol’s men. Not of their own will. They were the girls that Korol had hand-picked to please his men from the hundreds of women that he abducted every year for his trafficking business.

  My brain shied away from that particular topic. Blind rage usually followed the realization that only a few women were in the house of their own free will, and my hatred for Korol only grew. Which made it even harder to give my body to him without a fight when he came for me. Turning my thoughts back to my bodyguard, I reflected on the handsome Zakhar instead.

  Zak had been my best friend for the past year and had been teaching me as many things as he possibly could to keep my mind off the traumatic turn of events in my life. He had taught me some of the Russian language, the several types of weapons used by Korol and his men, and the different septs and leaders of the organized crime world. He sparred with me weekly to make sure my body retained its muscle definition and had taken over my self-defense training where it had left off in America. I had even beaten him in a fight a few times, much to his chagrin. Though I knew he was teaching me these things to put my mind at ease with the environment around me, it was almost insulting that he thought I wouldn't plot to use the information against Korol.

  I thought back to when I had mentioned this to him, and the serious look that had crossed his stunning face. Zak had removed his signature wire-rimmed glasses from his nose, looked at me with those serious amber eyes, and had spoken to me in his quiet, velvet voice.

  "I've told you before, moya krasota, Korol is the most powerful Pakhan in all of Russia. Not because he is the biggest, the strongest, or the smartest. The world knows so little about him. And yet… he took hold of an entire country in the span of a few short years. He has conquered an empire, and nobody knows his face. You, who have been his lover for an entire year still cannot identify him. He is a phantom, a legend, ghost. A monster." Zak had paused to lean forward and stare me right in the eyes as he asked his next question.

  "You are good and full of light. That is why he chose to take you. What would you do even if you could somehow face him? How do you win against a devil so immersed in darkness when you are an angel living in the light?"

  I forced myself back to the present and turned to the man chained to the wall. Those obsidian eyes bored into me, and it was almost like he knew exactly what I had been thinking. As our gazes melded once again, I felt the tendrils of darkness slither inside me, pulling me to the brink of that slithering abyss that had been my constant companion.

  I knew the answer to Zak's question, but had been too frightened to answer. The world needed those who could shine their light and purify the darkness. My mother was one of those people and she, along with the rest of her family, had raised me in a world of light and goodness. She knew I had darkness inside me and had done her very best to help me lock it away. Though she
wasn't with me, I could still hear her gentle voice telling me what a beautiful person I was, and encouraging me to always do the 'right thing'.

  I clenched my fists as I finally acknowledged the choice I was faced with but didn't know if I had the strength to make. The abyss roared at me and I silently screamed in terror, feeling the scaly body of pure destruction wind its way around my mind.

  And the calm, cold smile never slipped from my lips as the slithering voice inside hissed the words I needed to hear.

  If I want to beat the devil, I'm going to have to go to hell and take his fucking throne.

  Chapter Two

  Cold Deck

  Emilia

  "Sergei's coming, Emilia."

  At Ludo's pronouncement, I looked up sharply. It had been four days since I had been brought to the dungeon, and nobody besides the guards who brought us our daily meal and toiletries had come to 'visit'. I sat straight up on the uncomfortable cot and tried to move Ludo's head from my lap where he had been resting. He refused to move a single muscle, laying out seemingly casually against me.

  Every muscle in my body tensed as Sergei and three other guards stepped into my line of vision. A cruel smile adorned the captain's face, and he and his comrades stopped directly in front of my cell.

  I noticed the guards aside from Sergei kept sliding nervous glances at the big guy chained to the wall in the next cell. My curiosity piqued but I forced it down, having bigger problems to contend with. My eyes stayed on Sergei as he pushed his thumb against the touch-screen security pad that served as the key and the cell door slid open with a clang.

  Sergei walked in slowly, closing the distance between us, and I didn't blink as he stopped directly in front of the cot.

  "We have some real sick fucks upstairs the Pakhan is trying to impress. As a little gift from the boss, he's giving them… you."

  I almost let my eyes close in despair but forced them to stay open, silently admonishing myself fiercely. I knew this exact situation had been coming. Korol didn't like being denied my body, and he was the first to say he refused to go long without fucking me into submission. He enjoyed my helpless rage too much. This was the first time he was going to let anyone besides himself inside me, but I knew my last tantrum had really pissed him off.

  Hence why he had sent my ass packing to the dungeon.

  Korol also knew my deepest fear was to be drugged up and passed around like a slab of meat. He had constantly threatened to do just that if I kept getting physically violent and fighting him.

  Looks like he wants to punish me completely by making me live my worst nightmare.

  Well, one of my worst nightmares.

  I looked down into Ludo's face one more time, letting his look of rage give me courage, and smiled gently at him.

  "Don't ever lose that spirit, baby. No matter what."

  I kissed his forehead right in front of the guards and slid off the cot. Standing up straight and tall, my head held high, I stepped up to Sergei and held my wrists out.

  "Go ahead and cuff me, captain. I won’t fight you."

  I stared into the cruel eyes that watched me with such sick glee, and a shiver of unease ran down my spine as Sergei's cruel smile grew wider.

  The three guards stepped around us, and I saw for the first time they were holding leather restraints, a collar, and a leash. Looking at the size of the collar and restraints, my cold smile froze in place. My stomach heaved in revulsion, and my cold smile bled into a look of absolute terror. Sergei then spoke in the cruelest voice I'd ever heard.

  "What made you think I was talking to you?"

  Sergei's hands whipped around me as a scream rent its way out of my throat and I tried to rush the guards who had stepped past me. He had the surprise on me and we fell to the floor in a heap as he put his knee into my back and held my arms behind my back roughly. Pain shot down my arm, but my panic was absolute and numbed everything immediately.

  "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!" I screamed with every ounce of fury inside me. Struggling fiercely, I felt my shoulder pop out of socket as Sergei tried to subdue me. The three guards had already restrained the surprised Ludo, shoving a ball gag into his mouth to silence him. He was struggling valiantly, but the three full grown men had him moving out of the cell in a matter of moments.

  Sergei was swearing and yelling in Russian as I screamed and fought against him. The arm that was going numb from my shoulder coming out of socket slipped out of his grip, and I launched it back at him with all the power I could muster. Catching him on the side of the face, he stumbled over, crashing into the cot. I scrambled to my feet, frantic, while four more guards rushed down the hallway to my cell. The three guards that were restraining Ludo looked on in shock, clearly baffled that the other guards had to come to their captain's rescue.

  My gaze glued to Ludo, I slammed into the first guard, knocking him off balance and sent him crashing to the floor. I kicked him straight in the dick, and a high pitch yell sounded. Turning to the three guards that stood between Ludo and me, I ran forward in a blind rage, my only thought to just break through and get to the boy I had grown so fond of.

  The guard furthest from me pulled out a long, barbed whip, and cracked it open just as I began to run. Sergei yelled something from inside the cell, but before anyone could process his yell, the whip cracked through the air. There was a sudden constriction at my neck that paralyzed my movements immediately. Jagged edges bit into my neck, ripping flesh, and I could do nothing but choke. Confusion and agony flooded my brain as my breath was cut off and my body was slammed into the stone floor.

  I couldn't move or breathe as the fight was stolen from me instantly. I stayed conscious by sheer power of will but couldn't move a muscle. My ears were ringing, but I swore I heard a strangled roar rip through the dungeon as I coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe. A tear slid out of my eye to mix with the warm liquid that tasted strongly of blood that was suddenly seeping from my mouth.

  I was turned over and lifted into a pair of strong arms. Sergei's face, paler than I had ever seen it, swam before my vision. Nausea rose swiftly at the movement, and I struggled to remain conscious. Every breath felt like razor blades inside my throat as I grappled for air. Sergei screamed at the guard that had brought me down, and over his screaming I could hear Ludo's muffled sobs. I turned my head to see him, though agony raced through my body at the movement, and the darkness slowly consuming my vision rushed in faster.

  My eyes connected with a beautiful face with large brown eyes sparkling with tears. Time slowed to a crawl and I heard other inmates yelling as that gorgeous face was taken through the doors of the dungeon. Ludo let out a final muffled scream as the door slid shut.

  He was gone.

  My eyes closed in despair, Ludo's scream echoing around me.

  A shift began at the core of my body. Despair, terror, and rage slowly intertwined and morphed into the face of the serpent hidden in my mind. It slowly wound its way throughout my entire being, leaving behind a wake of cold resolve. The last of the light that had been glimmering at the center of my soul- the part I had tried to keep cherished and protected my entire life- flickered violently as the serpent circled it.

  That serpent, that monster so full of darkness, opened its jaw, fangs dripping that cold venom that was numbing everything inside me. That mocking laughter filled my thoughts, the hissing sound of triumph echoing as hate poured through the dam I had tried to install in my mind. The serpent paused at my precious last light, waiting for that final push into the abyss that I had been fighting my entire life.

  The sight of Ludo's beautiful brown eyes, sparkling with helpless tears before he was taken away swam in my mind's eye and branded itself there. My eyes snapped open and I drew a deep breath into my lungs. My gaze locked onto Sergei, standing above me from where I had been laid out on a cot, and he took a step back at my sudden movement. Whatever was on my face made him pale even more, and the physician he had called made the sign of the cross and stumbled back fr
om me, as well.

  I smiled a calm, eerily cold smile, showcasing my bloody teeth. The snap of that serpent's jaw closing inside me resonated throughout my entire being, leaving behind it nothing but darkness… and hate.

  Darkness consumed my vision and an eerie laugh escaped my throat as I stared into Sergei's eyes. My raspy whisper that sounded exactly like the hiss inside my mind that I had denied all these years echoed throughout the dungeon before I blacked out completely.

  "I'm going to… kill you. Every… last… one of you."

  Chapter Three

  Cripple The Deck

  Viktor

  Not one person in the prison breathed for a full minute after Emilia's whispered words. Though they had been nothing but raspy bits of sound, the words still hung in the air like a curse that would forever resonate off the stone walls of the prison. My eyes were locked on the injured Emilia, and my chains rattled against the wall as I unconsciously tried to slide closer to her.

  Sergei was the first to make a sound, screaming at the doctor in Russian, ordering him to 'clean the bitch up' and 'not tell a fucking soul' about the incident. The doctor, a portly man with glasses, nodded, though he was almost sobbing as he took out his instruments and began to work on the brave Emilia.

  "FUCK!" screamed Sergei, stomping out of the cell.

  My eyes remained glued on Emilia, and I spat out the bridle that had finally come loose when I had been struggling against my chains. Working my jaw, the flood of relief that swept through my facial muscles was immediate and brought tears to my eyes, it felt so fucking good. Looking at Emilia's bloody face and neck, I couldn't bring myself to care about that relief. I knew the others were staring on at the warrior princess who had defended one of their own, a child forged by the underworld they all lived in. She had fought for a mafia member as if he had been family, and I knew immediately what that made her in the eyes of the prisoners.