{NATHAN}
Only one thing could make this moment more perfect. A camera.
Anything that could immortalize her reaction.
It wasn't always easy for me to read people. I had to memorize feelings and human reactions like someone learning a new language. When you don't understand something, you study. Otherwise, you're at a disadvantage. I have mastered the understanding of feelings. Basic human emotions aren't that complicated when you put effort into reading them.
I can read the average person like an open book. I observe what make people tick just for the fun of it. I'm pretty sure I would have made a great detective. Maybe a special unit or something. I can imitate feeling empathy for people if I try hard enough. When I really put effort into it, I'll even shed a tear or two if necessary.
There's something about Kayla King I always found difficult to read, though. That's the problem when someone has made an effort to put up a front.
But there's one thing she was never able to hide from me.
Her fear.
Because that's something she rarely feels, and when she does, she doesn't know how to hide it.
The woman has faced death more times than the people around her combined. She's been threatened, had guns pointed at her head, knives under her throat, and been cornered by enemies in dark alleys. She's seen it all. She hasn't needed to hide fear because she genuinely rarely feels it anymore.
She hasn't learned to control the trembling of her lower lip, or her darting eyes. She can't stop the slight flaring of her nostrils and the line that creases between her eyebrows.
A beautiful deer caught in headlights.
The mix of shock and terror on her face is an image I will probably be touching myself to later. Because fuck, if there's something that turns me on, it's seeing the one and only woman on the North Shore everyone calls fearless, scared for her insignificant, pathetic life.
Scared because she knows she risks no one's wrath but mine. Scared because she's always prepared for anything, but she couldn't have been prepared for this. I made sure of that.
But mainly, she and I both know the reason she should fear for her life is because she took something from me no one else had before. Something I would never allow anyone to take.
My freedom.
And God only knows I'm about to do the exact same to her. I'm going to pluck my little sunflower and cut her off from the world. I'm going to put her in a beautiful crystal vase, and I'll be the one in charge of her fate. Even now, seeing me in the flesh, she doesn't seem to realize I'm about to end her time as a free woman.
I smile at her, my fingers tightening around the links of the cage. She didn't answer my question, whether she missed me or not. I think she did. She wishes she didn't. She wishes the relief of knowing the man who owns her was far away, locked somewhere he couldn't torment her anymore, came with peace. But I bet her body didn't allow that. I bet her tight little cunt longed for me every fucking day of the three and a half years I was away.
But then again, my siblings always told me I was a delusional psychopath. So maybe she didn't.
Her terrified gaze flicks to the side of me, indicating I should turn around. I must have missed the call to start the fight. It's not like there's a referee and some rules. They don't call it the Death Cage for no reason.
Bare knuckles, anything allowed.
My version of Disneyland, if you ask me.
Kayla realizes too late that her glance gave away that her little boyfriend was coming behind me.
I turn around, avoiding his arms that were going for my neck. Straight to a chokehold, I see. This fight is going to be quick.
Very quick.
Ivan Volkov might be a Wolf, but deep down, he's ashamed of it. All he's ever tried to do is to get away from the criminal organizations. That's why he never mentions the last name he shares with his now dead dad. I know a lot about the Wolves.
The family I grew up in were their direct enemies, and I was sent to the Silver Falls area in the first place to make sure they didn't take over too many territories. To make sure the Bianco family of the Cosa Nostra had a hold on the city they wanted for themselves.
I have never let anything get in my way. Not the fact that I was born with something missing—something that allows humans to connect. Not my own siblings when they tried to convince me to leave the Cosa Nostra. Not the Wolves when I moved here.
Not even Mateo Bianco, the old boss of the Bianco family. I was his right-hand man. The person he trusted the most. And I got rid of him to take his place.
Just before some sneaky little sunflower sent me to prison.
I let him attempt to hit me a few times. His fists fly toward me, but I'm too fast for him to come anywhere near touching me.
He steps back to take a breath, his guard up as he jumps from one foot to the other. I use the space to observe him further.
It's not like I haven't had a chance to do that in the last five months, but never this close. While Kayla was flying too close to the sun, attempting a robbery she planned to a T, I was making sure I knew every little thing she was up to. That included how often she was with her useless boyfriend. Too often was the conclusion I came to.
I take in his strong body moving. He's big. Someone who clearly works hard to keep in shape. I was always on the lean side—made of pure muscle and zero body fat—rather than like a bodybuilder. I got a bit bigger in prison, but I'm far from looking like a gym bro on steroids.
I sigh to myself. I still haven't put my fists up, and I can hear the NSC crowd insulting me. My eyes cross with Emma Scott's and she shouts at me to fucking do something. I've never been one to follow others' plans or orders, though. So I focus on my victim again.
"Seriously," I say casually. "Did she actually go for a guy like you?"
His eyes narrow, probably wondering if he knows me from somewhere.
"What?" Clearly, he can't place me in his memory.
"How was she, Ivan? Did you ever get her wet enough to actually stick your dick in her? Or are you going to die without having found what she really likes?"
A low growl rumbles past his lips, and he comes back charging. The moment he goes for my face, I grab his wrist, flipping him around and wrapping my forearm around his neck. I keep him close, his back to my chest.
"If you give me your last words, I'll pass them onto her. Don't make it too cheesy, though."
"Fuck…you…" I press harder against his windpipe, making him cough as his cheeks redden.
Those are some disappointing last words, but I don't insist. I wasn't really going to tell Kayla anyway.
"Well, this has been only mildly entertaining," I admit in a flat voice. "Do me a favor, will you?"
Shifting quickly, I place a hand on his chin and one at the top of his head. "Say hi to your piece-of-shit dad for me."
Then, I snap his neck, dragging gasps from the crowd. For a few seconds, the warehouse falls silent, questioning if I really just killed the guy by breaking his neck.
That's until I let him go and his limp body falls to the floor of the cage. I turn back to Kayla, knowing exactly where she's standing.
Just because she's watching, I make a show of lifting my fist in the air to make sure everyone around knows I've won. To make sure Kayla is well aware that she lost everything she's worked so hard for. That the North Shore now belongs to NSC.
And would you take a wild guess at who NSC belongs to?
I'll help.
Me.