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like vengeful spirits with yellow eyes and gaping mouths.

“P-please…” I beg. “Please stop torturing me with my own self. Please.”

I know my pleas have no effect whatsoever, but it’s the last hope I can hold on to. The last thread that can save me. Because I desperately need saving right now.

And I don’t trust myself to do it anymore. If I try, I’ll just make it worse. I’ll spiral out of control and slide down the path of no return.

Next thing I know, I’ll be my own demons.

I’ll be my own downfall.

I’ll be the thing I’ve run away from my entire life.

“Please make it stop.” My voice chokes and I sniffle. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

This time, the wind isn’t my answer. The shuffling of footsteps comes from around the trees.

My feet falter and I stop breathing. My demons couldn’t have found me this soon.

Though…wait. This is reality. My demons don’t show up in reality. That means the footsteps belong to someone more dangerous than them.

I spin around and sprint ahead, elbowing the low branches out of my way. The fallen leaves crunch under my flat shoes, but I don’t stop to think about the sound I’m making—which gives a clear indication of where I am. That’s not important right now. If I’m caught, I’ll be killed.

Actually, my fate will be a lot worse than death.

Live. You’re a fighter. You were born to live.

Mom’s words echo in my head, charging me with a large dose of adrenaline. I have to live and stay that way for both of us.

I need to live.

The footsteps grow closer with every passing second until their thudding is right behind me. I don’t look back or even try to. Instead, I use the trees as camouflage, dashing between them so fast, my tendons cry out in pain.

If my pattern is irregular, he won’t find me. If I’m unpredictable, I’ll be able to escape death’s clutches.

I was taught to never take the short end of the stick or have less than what I deserve. It’s ironic that he taught me that but is now coming after me.

So ironic.

The trees clear out and I come to a screeching halt at the top of a cliff. Pebbles escape from under my feet and roll down over the huge boulders and finally to the dark, murky water that’s crashing against the rocks. The sound of raging waves echoes in the air like a symphony of death.

The sky is completely cloudy now, casting a gloomy shadow on the angry sea.

As I peer down, a strange yet familiar thought plays at the back of my head.

It would be so easy to end it. So easy.

One step is all it takes. One step and I’ll drown my demons with my own hands.

One step and I’ll kill them once and for all, so they’ll never come out again.

“Do it.”

A shudder zaps through my spine at the sinister voice coming from behind me.

He found me.

I whirl around so fast, I lose my footing and swing backward. I reach out to him and grip his arm with both hands, nails digging into his shirt. Blood smears on the light gray cloth as evidence of my desperation to live.

He’s motionless, like a cold statue, as I remain suspended in mid-air. His face is shadowed and I can’t see anything except the contours of his jawline and hair.

Since I know he won’t make a move to help me, I try to use my hold on his sleeve to pull myself up.

“You ended a life.” His calm yet threatening tone stops me in my tracks.

I shake my head violently. “I d-didn’t want to.”

“It still happened.”

“No, please…don’t…”

“Die for your sins.” He yanks his hand free and I stumble backward and down the cliff.

I open my mouth to shriek, but no sound comes out. The fall isn’t as painful as I expected it to be. If anything…it’s peaceful.

After taking one last look at the silhouette peering down on me, I close my eyes, letting the tears loose.

It’s finally the end.

1

Adrian

Being brought up a certain way forces certain expectations.

Sometimes, they’re the easier type where all you have to do is go with the tide. Others, it’s all about taking action.

I learned early on that taking action is proportional and depends on a set of predefined circumstances.

Acting too soon or too late can cause tragedy.

Refusing to take action in the first place is the main cause of self-annihilation.

Being birthed by monsters and raised among them had taught me a valuable lesson.

Never let my guard down.

If I do, other creatures of the dark would feast on my weaknesses. They won’t hesitate to drag me down to the road of no return.

Or so they wish.

They’d have to reach me to touch me. They’d have to possess the ability to look me in the eyes and not tremble in fear.

They’d have to reach my level of power.

After losing everything as a kid and being raised in the ranks of the New York Bratva, I had to be smart about acquiring power. I couldn’t be too obvious because that would trigger my father’s suspicions.

He’d think that I’m after his rank and title, his power and assets. And while that’s true, it’s not even the beginning of it.

Georgy Volkov is one of the brotherhood’s four kings and has been for decades, from before I was born. He shares an easy friendship with the Pakhan, Nikolai, and the rest of the leaders.

They look up to him with a reverence that he earned by massacring traitors in cold blood. Even if one of those traitors was a defenseless woman.

While I’m his only son and heir, Georgy is smart enough to be wary of me. His guards watch me more than they watch outsiders, and he’s often shipping me off to Russia or Eastern European countries, so I don’t grow roots here.

The last exile was my enlistment in the Russian military special forces with the guards that he recruited to keep an eye on me since I was young.

That was

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