Page 36 of Monstrous Urges

All dead.

After that, the monsters torched the house and left me to die in the fire and blood they left behind.

Except I didn’t die.

I lived.

When I climbed out of the wreckage of my life the next morning, I had nothing. The Krylov Bratva had been eradicated overnight. All our assets stolen or destroyed. All our government connections paid to turn their backs. All our allies dead, or no longer friendly.

My only solace that day was learning that Annika hadn’t made it either. One of our men, in his last moments, had blown up the only bridge connecting our island to the mainland just as the car carrying that treacherous bitch was driving over it.

I found her charred remains in the wreckage of the car on the rocks below, spit on her corpse, and set my resolve.

I’ve spent the last fifteen years since that fateful day clawing back my empire and utterly destroying anyone and everyone who had any part in the massacre of my family.

I embraced my heritage. I became an avenging angel of death. I even located the Imperskaya gvardiya—the Imperial Shield Fabergé Egg—and used its hidden riches to storm back into the light under a new banner.

But now, there’s this.

Fifteen years ago, she betrayed me and destroyed my world. Fifteen years ago, I thought she died, denying me my vengeance.

Tonight, I found her ghost.

Tonight, I fucking found Annika. And this time, nothing will cheat me of my retribution.

You can run, little Annika. In fact, I want you to. And this time, I’m going to chase you. I’m going to find you. And when I do, I’ll fucking destroy you, Annika.

Or should I say, Taylor…

8

TAYLOR

There’s a moment of complete confusion when I wake up in darkness to the beeping of an alarm clock. But then everything rushes back.

It’s like waking up under ice.

I sit bolt upright. Instantly I wince as the movement triggers insanely bright white lights to stream down on me. My eyes squeeze shut, wincing as the blinding light stabs through my eyelids and the alarm continues to blare into my ear.

Good fucking morning to you, too.

Bleary-eyed, I roll off the little folding cot and slam my hand down on my backup phone, silencing the alarm. My hands run over my face and up into my hair, pushing it back from my face as I take a breath and exhale slowly. Suddenly, the events that led me to waking up in the locked confidential documents vault at the office come screaming back in violent flashes through my head.

I remember kneeing him in the balls and kicking him in the shin before fleeing. I remember bolting down the alley, naked and wrapped in a throw blanket, and then diving behind a dumpster, shrinking against the brick wall behind me.

Waiting to see if the monster would chase me.

When the minutes ticked by and he didn’t, I cautiously stepped from my hiding place to find the alleyway empty. After that, I sprinted to my car parked in the garage under the Soho Grand, pulled on the extra office outfit I keep in the trunk, and drove directly to work.

This is the only place I could think of where I’d be totally safe from him: locked in the keypad-entry-only documents locker.

My primary phone is still back at the hotel room in my bag. So it’s not like he could track me via the app or anything else on my phone.

I shiver in the chilly air-conditioning.

Except he also saw my face. And he did come to my hotel room, which means he can easily get my name.

I tremble again as my arms tighten around me.