Chapter 20 Debts Paid in Blood

Chapter 20 Debts Paid in Blood
Dragon Ironside

Leo shakes his head, an almost imperceptible movement of disapproval. He is a good soldier. He understands loyalty, he understands violence, but he doesn't understand this. He doesn't understand the desire that became hatred and became a mission.

"Then tell me," he insists, resigned. "What is 'fair' to you? What did he do that deserves more than a bullet?"

The question hangs in the humid air. And I say aloud what only I have witnessed.

"He breaks her, Leo. It's not just a beating, it's not just that feeling of possession. It's... something methodical. It's as if he's taking apart a machine, piece by piece, to see how it works. I saw her smiling, and twenty minutes later I saw her leaving the office in their mansion, staggering. Her lips were bleeding on the inside, and she could barely walk straight."

My hand involuntarily clenches the coffee cup. The plastic creaks, and I try to relax my fingers.

"He humiliates her in public with compliments that are like stabs. He says she's 'so delicate' while squeezing her arm until it leaves marks. He isolates her and makes her believe there is no way out. And in that bedroom..." My voice fades for a second. "In that bedroom, I don't know what he does. But I've seen the results. The emptiness, and her living death."

Leo says nothing. His face is serious. Even a man like him, who has seen horrors, seems disturbed.

"And you never interfered," he states, doesn't ask.

"I couldn't!" The roar comes from me, making the old window rattle. I turn, facing him. "She is the wife of the Serbian's son! We have an alliance with them! If I laid a hand on her, or on him, it would be a war. Marcus would never allow it."

"But now he does." He states it and laughs.

"Yes, but now he's a problem for business," I say, the taste of the lie bitter on my tongue. Marcus gave the order for strategic reasons and out of debt to me.

"So, the plan?" Leo resumes, practical, anchoring us back in the reality of the blood that will be spilled.

I take a deep breath, the anger turning into a cold, lethal calm.

"We capture him after the casino. Take him to the warehouse by the river, the one the contact arranged. And there... there I ask the questions."

"What questions?" Leo seems cautious.

"Shut up, I just want to cleanse my soul..."

Leo nods slowly, holding back a hint of laughter. But I know he sees the determination and that there is no discussion.

"It will be loud and it will be messy..."

"The warehouse is isolated. And I want him to scream."

The confession, once made, seems to echo in the empty room. Once he is dead, I will move my pieces so that Nadja Mayer truly becomes mine. Because she has been mine since the moment I saw the destruction in her. A possession born not from desire, but from recognition. She was a broken thing, and something in me, equally broken, identified with it. And decided to punish the breaker.

"You're risking a lot, Dragon," Leo warns, his tone grave. "If the Serbian discovers the truth..."

"I know the risks," I interrupt, looking back at the dark city. "But some risks are worth it. Some debts need to be paid in blood."

We fall silent. The rain outside intensifies, beginning to beat against the windowpane. Tomorrow night, Otávio will leave the casino laughing, drunk on his money and his power, unaware that the price for three years of cruelty is waiting for him on a bend in the dark road.

And I, I will finally be able to look into the eyes of the man who created the emptiness I wish to fill. I will be able to return the pain, multiplied by a hundred. And when I return to Montana and bring Nadja with me, hoping she will already be Nadja Ironside, that emptiness in her eyes will have a little less hold.

Because the monster that created it will be dead.

And the monster who possesses her now will have been her avenger.

Leo finishes his coffee and goes to the table, unrolling a map.

"We'll need two more men. Trustworthy ones. And a doctor, to keep him conscious."

I nod, my mind already far ahead. But, because of that bastard's choices, everything went off plan, and unfortunately, I didn't get to see him scream and beg for death.

Outside that window, I watched the Sava River flow indifferently, carrying the city's dirty secrets to a distant sea. Tomorrow, it will carry one more secret. Or rather, several pieces of him.

I open my eyes, pushing away the memories, and stare at the ceiling, then at the empty space where the mirror was before I destroyed it yesterday. I need to fix that,in fact, I need to fix many things.

My body is still tense, desiring her in a way that has become a constant ache and a hunger that cannot be sated. But today was progress. A kiss I didn't expect to happen.

It takes a while, but I manage to fall asleep around four in the morning. Even so, it is a heavy and restless sleep. And then, perhaps an hour later, I feel her hands striking my body, which jolts me awake in fright.

Her scream is muffled but still comes out sharp.

My body reacts before my mind can process what is happening. My hands grab her wrists, trying to pin them in a way that wouldn't trigger her further.

"Nadja?" I call, watching her closed eyes open.

"Please, no..." she cries out, and I feel the desperation in her plea.

Soon after, another scream, even more desperate this time. Something breaks inside me, seeing the woman who dominates my thoughts and illuminates a place I didn't know, in a night terror. My Little One was reliving something she endured with that bastard I didn't have the pleasure of torturing.

I don't think twice. I separate her hands and lie my body over hers, trying to contain her kicks. Her face is twisted into a mask of pure terror. The thin nightgown that was bunched at her waist has ridden up further, beginning to reveal a bit of her small, firm breasts.

"Little One!" I call her gently. "Nadja, love, wake up. It's just a nightmare, Little One."

I see her eyes, focused on something, dull and spinning within their sockets. I place her hands above her head and pin both wrists with just one of mine.

She opens her eyes suddenly, but they don't see me. Not really. They are glazed over, full of a panic and dread that doesn't belong to our room or our night. They are seeing something, or someone, who is not here.

"It's me, Little One, Dragon. I need you to come to my voice..." I say in the softest tone I can manage.

She blinks once, twice, and on the third time, I begin to believe she is finally seeing me. But her reaction is not what I expected. I see her panic multiplying. She pulls away from me, rolling to the other side of the bed and ends up falling to the floor with a dull thud. When she quickly gets up, her back is pressed against the wall, her breathing ragged and fast.

"Nadja, it's me," I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible, raising my hands to show I won't hurt her. "You had a nightmare, darling."

But she isn't listening. I see her distant gaze, completely different from the one I saw earlier in the office. Her eyes are on my face, and then I see them drop to my bare chest, and then to my underwear.

And then her eyes go to herself, to the thin nightgown that barely hides her body and is leaving almost everything on display. I see her traumas hitting her. The vulnerability against a man almost twice her size. The exposure of her body.

She shrinks against the wall, as if wanting to disappear into it.

"No," she whispers. It's not to me, but to herself, or to the nightmare still enveloping her. "Please, no."