Czar Gregovivk Part 2
“You’ll pay for this, Czar,” her trembling lips say, her eyes full of hatred, cursing me like some damned, decrepit witch. “Sooner or later, you’ll pay for what you’ve done to me.”
“Идите сами!” I smile, speaking Russian to her.
I raise my fingers, waving goodbye as I press the button to close the elevator doors. But Freire thrusts her hand forward, blocking the doors from shutting.
“You think you're better than everyone, but you're not. You’re just a weak little boy playing at being a grown-up.” Her eyes land on my chest, and she gives me a bitter smile. “Underneath that charred shell you try to hide with your tattoos, you're still a little monster burning in flames.”
I remove my sunglasses, pressing my lips together as my entire body stiffens. I glare at her with hatred and step closer, standing just inches away from her. Freire smirks, shaking her head, clearly enjoying my reaction to her knowing the truth my tattoos conceal.
“Did you think I didn’t know your little family secret, Czar? The sick bastard you are, and what your pyromania cost you...” Her voice suddenly stops, her eyes widening.
My gaze stays fixed on the rosy hue spreading across her pale skin as my fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. My other hand grips the sunglasses harder, feeling the frame twist and break under the pressure of my muscles. Inside, I wish I could do the same to Freire's throat.
“Ar... a-ar...” Her hands clutch my wrist, her voice strangled.
I extend my arm, stepping out of the elevator, releasing the doors but not Freire’s neck. I shove her forward, forcing her onto her tiptoes as she gasps for air, her face turning a deep red. My face leans in close to hers, my grip tightening around her throat. Her eyes widen in panic, and her lips turn purple with each added ounce of pressure. I bring my lips to her ear, speaking in a low, menacing whisper.
“If you know my secret and what it cost me,” I mutter, my attention briefly flicking to the fire extinguisher and alarm on the wall behind her, “then you’d have to be either very foolish or suicidal to provoke me.”
I release her throat, shoving her backward. She stumbles, coughing violently as she clutches her neck, struggling to breathe. Her back presses against the wall, her face still flushed as she stares at me in fear.
“You asked me if I was happy to see Roy kick you out, and I told you the truth—I wasn’t. I don’t find joy in useless things.” I open my hand, letting the shattered remains of my sunglasses fall to the carpet. I raise my gaze to Freire and take a step toward her, savoring the way she cowers like a frightened rat against the wall. “But watching your entire body burn until there’s nothing left but a charred, twisted skeleton... that would bring me more happiness in this life than screwing a thousand women in Sodoma.” I lift my hand, my finger brushing her flushed cheek. “Keep that in mind the next time you want to talk about my secrets, Freire, unless you really want to play with fire.”
I turn away, walking toward the emergency exit, leaving her behind. I glance one last time at the fire extinguisher, taking a deep breath as I struggle to control my thoughts before they spiral out of control.