Dance of Deception: Chapter 41

The room goes totally silent, like the haunted silence of a graveyard at midnight, or in the aftermath of a gunshot.

Lyra’s eyes are wide, her body rigid, catatonic. Vera looks like she’s staring death in the face.

I could wonder about the fact that we’re all staring at and talking to an impossibility. But there’s no time for that. Instead, I take it all in, blood still trickling from my temple, my mind racing to see any possible way out.

Arkadi takes a slow step forward, scanning the room like a king surveying his realm. His dark hair, now silvered in places, is longer than it was in the last photos taken of him in prison. His face is more lined and worn.

I remember this motherfucker’s trial and the women that flocked to him, both online or outside the courtroom. As if he was some sort of heartthrob celebrity and not a monster who would rape and kill those women’s own daughters without thinking twice.

But those charming looks of his are fading. He’s grown older, haggard.

More monstrous.

His gaze drifts to Vera, his lips curling in disgust. “You let her see,” he murmurs, his voice full of hatred. “My demons are for me and me alone to bear,” Arkadi growls. “But you—you had the audacity to allow my own daughter to see⁠—”

“She’s not your fucking daughter,” I snarl, my voice laced with steel and venom. “You stole her. You killed her mother⁠—”

“Her mother would have succumbed to this world anyway,” he says lazily, shrugging. “She was too nice. Too trusting. She would’ve been swallowed up and spit back out.”

Arkadi exhales, shaking his head before his gaze slides viciously to Vera, who’s pinned to the wall, looking terrified.

Then, before anyone can react, Arkadi makes his move toward her.

Vera bolts, panicked, making a desperate run for the back room to barricade herself in.

She doesn’t make it.

Arkadi lunges after her, slamming into Lyra’s chair in the process, knocking it over.

I snarl, baring my teeth as the woman I love cries out when she hits the ground hard, her head smacking against the concrete. A sharp gasp escapes her lips, her body writhing from the impact.

I see red but force myself to stay focused. Across the room, Arkadi is laughing coldly as he grabs Vera in his big hands. He wraps one of them around her throat, then his fingers tighten and her face begins to turn purple.

He’s distracted.

I twist, my voice a low whisper as I hiss at Lyra.

“Knife. Under my cuff.”

Lyra winces as she shifts against the ropes, her back to me, fingers feeling blindly, so close to my shoe.

I grit my teeth, pulling on my bonds as I try to extend my leg toward her.

She strains to reach back, her fingertips clawing at my shoe and hem of my pants before finally, her fingers find the hilt of the knife. Trembling but determined, she yanks it free, the metal glinting in the dim light.

Vera lets out a gurgled gasp, her feet kicking the air as Arkadi tightens his grip around her throat, his focus still completely locked on her.

Lyra doesn’t hesitate.

She starts sawing clumsily at the rope around her wrists.

Her hands are slick with sweat, but she keeps going. I wince as the blade nicks her once, twice, a third time, but she pushes on, gritting her teeth, sawing the blade faster, faster.

With a harsh snap, the ropes break free.

Good girl.

Then she cuts the duct tape around her ankles and whirls to me. I shake my head.

“Get out!” I hiss.

“No!” she whispers back. “Not without⁠—”

I shake my head. “Get the fuck out of here! My keys are in the car.”

She doesn’t move. I can see it in her eyes—she’s hesitating. She wants to free me. But there’s no time for that.

“Get. Out.” My voice is low, desperate.

She still doesn’t move.

Then I know what I have to do.

“I love you.”

It punches into her, stopping her breath. Her eyes widen, her lips part in shock.

“Now—RUN!” I roar.

The sheer volume shocks her into action.

Lyra spins and bolts for the stairs just as Arkadi whirls. I watch confusion turn to rage on his face. Instantly, he drops Vera’s inert body to ground in a heap, and his eyes lock on Lyra as she scrambles up the steps.

Suddenly, he’s lunging after her.

I move before I can think.

Still bound to the chair, I force myself up, every muscle on fire.

With a snarl, I hurl myself into Arkadi, slamming into his side and smashing us both against the wall. The impact knocks the wind out of us and sends us both crashing to the ground. The chair splinters beneath me, the legs snapping.

I barely hear it.

All I can hear is Lyra’s fading footsteps.

Run, little dancer.

Arkadi snarls, twisting beneath me. As he shoves me off, his lip curls savagely.

“I know what you are,” he hisses as I grapple with him, trying to yank my arms free of the rope still wrapped around the broken pieces of chair. “I’ve seen what you are.” He barks a cold laugh as he rams his elbow into my mouth, bringing a gush of blood to my tongue. “You want to sit here calling me monster for the things I’ve done? Best to make sure the glass walls are nice and clean in that house of yours that you and your friends from the Black Court sit in.”

My whole body stiffens.

Arkadi laughs darkly and grins maniacally at me, even as I yank a hand free and slam my fist into his face.

“I was a guard at a few of those stage shows you and your little friends put on, with the masks…the women…the blood.” He leers at me, barely looking away when I punch him again. “I saw everything, Don Barone,” he growls.

“I already had motivation enough bury you in a shallow fucking grave,” I snarl back, ramming my forearm against his nose and making blood spurt across his face. “But I’m going to enjoy it even more now when⁠—”

Words fail me as a flash of silver glints.

As sudden, searing pain jabs into my side.

Shit.

I groan, my body locking up as the blade sinks deep. White-hot agony explodes through my ribs.

Arkadi lets out a low, satisfied chuckle, twisting the blade, laughing as I hiss in agony. He shoves me off him, sending me toppling to the floor in a heap with the blade still buried in my side.

“You’re a monster just like me, Don Barone,” he murmurs, getting to his feet and walking calmly over to where I’m writhing on the floor. “And you’ve made the same mistake I made once.”

He leans in, his lips brushing my ear.

“You’ve pretended that you can be normal.”

The words cut more than I want them to.

“You and I… We are not normal men. We are not sheep, like the rest of the world. We are wolves. And try as he might, a wolf can never live amongst the lambs. If he attempts to do so, it’s only a matter of time before his true nature is revealed.”

He flicks the hilt of the knife with a finger, chuckling to himself as I choke in pain.

“It’s deep. But you have some time. Time enough for me to bring back what is mine. What was always meant to be mine.”

My vision flickers, darkening at the edges, and my teeth grit as he leans closer.

“And when I do, I’ll have to decide: do I let you bleed out with her watching, or keep you alive long enough to watch her die…”