Page 81 of The Bratva's Beast

Let bygones be bygones.

Leave the past in the past.

Be the better person.

I've heard it all, and my response to all of it will always be the same: fuck that shit. Fucking hated it when people shoved all of that good shit in my face, which is why I didn't bother with therapy. I didn't want to be the better person; I wanted to be the worst; I wanted to become my tormentor's nightmare, the demon to drag them to hell to burn.

It was all bullshit to me how people tell those who've suffered to move on as if it was an easy thing to do. Why do I have to suffer while those who traumatized me got to live their happy life? Do people not know the constant pain victims suffered? The never-ending nightmares that plagued every inch of our lives?

Yes, I know I was one of the lucky ones to recover and live a primarily functional life, but that didn't mean I was normal again. Normal is something I can never be again. Normal died with my father the day he was gunned down in a drive-by. The little girl with dreams died in the brothel, along with what sanity I had.

Stepan might be avenging my lost innocence by killing those who broke me, but both of the two sole people responsible still lived and breathed. Maybe I should kill the greedy bitch, and give myself the peace I deserved. But I can't, not yet.

If I killed her now, then I'd be damning so many victims. Unfortunately, Stepan and his men haven't found all her safe houses and storages yet, so she needed to stay alive.

But by God, was it tempting to twitch my finger and send a bullet between her eyes

"Such an insolent brat. You should be thanking me and speaking to me with respect. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. If I didn't take you in after your mother begged me to, then you'd be dead in the streets or homeless and starving. I gave you a roof over your head, a warm home, three meals a day, and all you had to do was work a little in return, that's all. So, you should be kissing my feet for shaping you into the woman you are today." Every word of hers felt like acid on my body to me.

It sickened me how she could never see anything wrong in her actions, always displacing the blame or twisting the situation to make her stand in a good light. She was the type of person to murder someone and get away scot-free because she managed to talk the jury into seeing her as some victim. That or she'd place the blame on some innocent soul and convince the judge to sentence them instead of her.

"I would have been better off in the streets than in your stupid whore house. None of what you gave me would ever be worth the indecencies inflicted upon me. I suffered for two fucking years, two fucking years of endless abuse and rape." Rage trembled at my body, my restraint stiffening my trigger finger because murdering her right now would do no good—I had to keep the reminder on a constant mental loop.

Her dark chuckle brought a scowl to my face. "Did I keep you prisoner there? Lock you in the room? Chain you to the wall? No, I didn't. You had free roam of the place, the doors were always unlocked for you to come and go as you pleased. Nothing kept you there but you. No one, let alone me, forced you to stay and take those men who adored you. You have no one to blame for your suffering but yourself my dear."

"I was a fucking child!" I snarled with my upper lip peeled back.

"You still had full autonomy." She retorted apathetically, shrugging her shoulders while giving me a smug expression.

"You'd punish me until I complied. Fucking branded me as your property!" I raised my shaky voice.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I had to place my mark on you for others to know whose protection you were under. As for punishment, I never did such a thing, only reprimanded you for not following rules as I saw fit." Another thing I hated about her was how she had a damn answer for anything, no matter how fucked up it may be.

Honestly, if she weren't a triad businesswoman, she'd probably make a damn good lawyer, or a demon, or a demon lawyer. The damn snake who convinced Eve to take the forbidden fruit paled in comparison to Lilian; she was just that conniving and crafty in a very devious and dark way.

"Face it Hanna, you have me to thank for the strong woman you've become today. I mean, look at you, working for the Volkov Bratva, marrying one of the Volkov brothers, you are set, and you are only here because of me. So, you owe me." The nerve of this bitch.

My maniacal laugh plucked at my vocal cords uncontrollably. "Owe you? I don't owe you shit! Thanks for the fucking trauma but that's all I'm ever going to thank you for. I sure as hell don't owe you jackshit. If anything, the only thing I owe you is a bullet to the head because you sure as hell don't have a heart for me to stab or shoot at." A vile being like her couldn't have a heart; I was pretty sure if she were to be cracked open, then there'd be a void where her heart would be.

Sighing, she shook her head at me in a manner meant to chastise me. "I never should have let that stupid man take you under his wing after the fire. Obviously, he couldn't raise any of his children right, so it's no surprise you turned out so ungrateful and ill-mannered."

Beyond Lilian, I watched Stepan's body appear in the doorway of his office after the faint sounds of his footsteps echoed through the tense silence. "I thought I made it clear that you are not welcomed here." Stepan's powerful voice chilled the area from the entryway as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Lilian's attitude changed completely into a sickly, sweet, fake persona. "Is it wrong to meet my future nephew-in-law and talk business?" The sweet venom in her voice made me want to yak my lunch up in her face, which would have been a massive waste because it was a good lunch.

"Even if you weren't estranged from Hanna, I still wouldn't agree to any business deals between you and I, let alone you and the bratva. As I told you last time, I have no interest, and it would be in your best interest to surrender before things get ugly." Pushing off the doorframe, he looked at Lilian pointedly and spoke in a stern voice, "Now, unless you're here for us to take you to the cops or to The Catacombs, I suggest you run before one of us hunts you down." At least one of us could keep a professional and threatening front.

I still wanted to empty my magazine into her at the very least; preferably, I wanted to beat her to a bloody pulp and vent out all my rage at her. Unfortunately, her death now would be more trouble than good. I might know some locations of her safehouses and storages, but not all of them. So, unless we can get one of her men to squeal like a pig, we need the source itself, aka Lilian herself.

"I don't take to threats kindly Volkov." Lilian's demeanor darkened as she turned her full attention to Stepan.

"When it's a threat from me, you really shouldn't." Stepan's eyes narrowed slightly in a harsh manner as he pushed off the doorframe and stalked up to her. "Now, leave me and my woman alone, and get out. If I see you near Hanna ever again then your head will meet my bullet." Even though I didn't need his protection, having him shift in front of me protectively warmed my heart.

"You're going to regret this Volkov." The acid in her tone sent a chill down my spine.

Her words weren't an empty threat. Knowing my aunt, her threats were never empty. Stepan and I would regret turning her away, and it was only a matter of time. The unfortunate part of it all is that we won't see her coming. She's a snake through and through, always striking when you'd least expect it. I don't know my aunt's dirty tactics enough to predict her well. Stepan and I would need to watch our backs on the streets and sleep with one eye open.

We weren't safe until she burned in Hell.