Page 3 of Trapping His Angel

I cried and tried to elbow my way away from him, but heheld me tighter and forced himself deeper. The pain was excruciating, but I couldn’t escape it. He kept going until I knew nothing but pain, and him. I could barely ball my fists. My body felt weak when he finally pulled off me.

His glazed eyes glared at me. “Your fight is no longer cute.”

“F-fuck y-you,” I said weakly, trying to move my hands to give him the finger.

Sweat dried on his chest, as he grabbed me by my hair. I screeched, trying to get away, but he dragged my body through the halls. No one cared about my cries. No one checked to see what was going on. He mumbled about my disobedience, dragging me down the stairs, without a care that my naked body hit every step on the way down. The bastard relished it.

All I could do was cry, and try to rip his fingers out of my hair. I weakly kicked, trying to stop our trajectory, but that just succeeded in getting my legs hurt worse, as he swung me into things purposefully.

Another flight down, into the dark and cold cellar of the school. They never allowed us down here. Headmaster Mikhail pulled me along the dirt floor until he stopped. He let go of my hair abruptly and I fell face first to the floor.

I looked up in horror as I heard a cement casket cover. He pushed it aside and came for me. I tried to flip around and scramble backward away from him, but it didn’t work. He grabbed me by my arm until he could pull me close enough to grip my throat.

“I bet, after some time down here alone to think about your actions, you’ll be a bit more obedient, hmmm.” Headmaster Mikhail lifted me, and tossed my body inside the coffin, like I was a rag doll.

The older adult’s decrepit body was all bones, and I screamed as I tried to get away. The lid slid over my head and I tried to reach up to stop it. He wouldn’t close it completely, but I was too weak to move it enough to get out.

“N-No!” I cried out, scrambling to get out of this tomb.

“Next time you’ll be compliant, won’t you?” Headmaster Mikhail demanded.

Sobbing, I cried out, “Please let me out, I’ll be good.”

“Too bad I don’t believe you.” I heard his footsteps grow fainter and screamed, trying to claw my way out.

I dug my nails into the cement, uncaring that they broke and bled all over my face. I screamed until my vocal cords gave out, and I tried to pry my way out.

“I can’t breathe!” I sobbed, clutching my chest as I gasped for breath.

There was no response. Headmaster Mikhail wasn’t coming back to take me out of this hellhole anytime soon. My arms grew tired from trying to get out of the casket.

“Please,” I whispered, using my last breath.

That was when the rats came.

CHAPTER ONE

Thirty-Nine Years Old

Benedikt

“Let’s move out.”Roman signed his orders to me.

I headed off to carry them out, hearing Valentina mumble something about being surprised we pulled this off. Of course we did, we are the Bratva. I ordered the soldiers to help collect the girls we’d found. Many had shot the teachers in the head for their complacency, but there were a few teachers who were still alive.

We’d figure out what to do with all of them once we went back home.

I stumbled, not seeing a rock in front of me, but at least I didn’t fall.

Fucking Roman.

I missed seventy-five percent of my shots since Roman had maimed me. For doing my job. A favor to my Uncle. Something I hadn’t needed to do. I could’ve stayed in my area in Russia. Happy with my little slice of the kingdom.

No, that punk from the States needed backup.

So, I saw a threat and I was prepared to neutralize it. Who cared if that threat was a woman he was calling his own at the moment? I wasn’t sure how men in the States handled their business.

I spent my time retraining as much as I could, but it wasn’t perfect. Fuck. I was worried the other spies in the network wouldn’t take me seriously, after hearing what happened. I was The Butcher, for fuck’s sake, and he’d damaged my image.