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8. Graveyard of Scars
Last Updated:
2025-05-03 18:36:47
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Crimson Kisses 10. Paper Walls
AMARA POV:The silence between us was a goddamn warzone. Thick. Electric. Every breath is a landmine waiting to detonate. Viktor stood too close—so close I could feel the heat of him bleeding into me, even though he wasn’t touching me. Not physically. But the way he looked at me was like he was peeling back my skin with nothing but his eyes, exposing every inch I’d spent years burying.And then he said it.“I know who hurt you.”My entire body went still.His voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was quiet, calculated, almost gentle, like he was cradling something dangerous and didn’t know if it would explode. But the words… they hit harder than any scream.They shattered the air between us, slicing through me with the precision of a blade forged in hell.“And I know
Crimson Kisses 9. Fractured Facade
AMARA POV:The first thing I noticed was the emptiness.The bed beside me was cold, the sheets barely rumpled where Luca had once been curled at my side. A quiet stillness filled the room, the kind that whispers more than silence should ever say. I blinked against the fading dusk bleeding through the curtains, my body sluggish and stiff, as though it had forgotten how to be alive.The clock read 08:00.Night. I'd slept through the day like a corpse avoiding resurrection.My body ached from more than exhaustion. Every breath dragged through me like smoke clawing at a hollow chest. I sat up slowly, and then it hit me.The memory. Sharp. Unforgiving. Viktor’s eyes. Cold. Calculating. And worst of all—pitying.He had looked at me like I was a tragedy, not a weapon. Like I was a girl begging to be saved, not a monster built to burn the world.I could still feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, as if he’d branded me with that moment; me in nothing but a towel, my scars naked, my soul strip
Crimson Kisses 8. Graveyard of Scars
Viktor pov:The second I stepped out of her room, I slammed the door behind me, hard enough to make the hinges rattle and groan in protest. The echo cracked down the hallway like a whip, chasing after me, but no amount of noise could drown out the image seared into my mind.Amara. Standing there. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, her battered body was on display like a silent confession.I moved blindly, fists clenched at my sides, the muscles in my jaw locking so tightly I thought my teeth might crack. Maybe if I moved fast enough, if I could just get away from the door, from that room, from her, the image would fade.But it didn’t.It burned behind my eyes, vivid and merciless. Her scars, Christ, there were so many. Pale, twisted remnants of a hundred different wars carved into her skin. Some old and faded into silver, others fresh and angry. They mapped her body like a history written in pain.It wasn’t just that she was hurt. It was that someone, somewhere, had tried to destroy her.
Crimson Kisses 7. Bleeding Quietly
Amara pov:We were finally settled in the Iron Citadel, Viktor’s goddamn fortress. Everything screamed power, wealth, and danger. And the moment I saw Viktor’s smug face, that arrogant smirk like he’d just won some twisted game, I wanted to slap the hell out of him. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because my brother was here. Because I had to stay strong, for him. I couldn’t leave Luca alone in this lion’s den.They gave us rooms next to each other. There was a door between them, connecting our spaces, and even though I didn’t say shit about it, I appreciated it. Just knowing he was close helped keep the panic from crawling up my throat But our rooms being placed directly across from Viktor’s is not a fucking coincidence. He wanted us right in front of him, under his control. They probably didn’t trust me; smart move.The room they gave me was… nice. Too nice. Big-ass windows, expensive furniture, a bed softer than anything I’d slept in, even better than the house I bought for Luca in Mexi
Crimson Kisses 6. No Saints Here
Amara pov:Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Luca. My little brother. My whole goddamn heart. His face kept haunting me, his wide, scared eyes, his voice calling my name like I could actually protect him. He looked so small… so helpless. And right behind him was the monster himself, Viktor Dragovic. Calm as fuck, like stealing someone’s brother was just part ofgrey regular day. Like ripping my soul apart didn’t matter to him at all.I was curled up on the couch, sitting in complete darkness, holding a knife so tight my fingers were going numb. Not because I planned to use it, but, because the pain reminded me I was still alive. That this nightmare was real, not just some twisted dream. Outside, the sky was slowly turning lighter, soft blue and gray creeping in, but inside me, It was all fire. Pure rage. Hurt. Fury. It was like poison bubbling under my skin, and any second now, it was going to blow.6:02 a.m. My phone buzzed.Caller ID: Lion Dickhead. Of course it was him.I
Crimson Kisses 5. The Lion’s Prey
Amara POV:The night air outside the Iron Citadel smacked me in the face as soon as I stepped through the gates. It was cold, sharp, and cruel, like the bastard I’d just left behind. Viktor Dragovic thought he could reel me in with his big speech and smug smile, like I was some pawn ready to be played. Screw him. I wasn’t going to dance for anyone, least of all a man like him.The guards at the gate didn’t look me in the eye as I passed. Good. Let them be afraid. I hailed a cab, the sharp whistle cutting through the eerie silence of the street. The headlights blinked once as the car rolled up, and I climbed in without saying a damn word, slamming the door behind me. The driver asked where to, but I barely heard him over the pounding of my thoughts. When I finally mumbled my address, he nodded and took off.The city blurred past the windows, the dark streets and flickering lights swallowing me whole. My boots tapped against the floor of the cab, restless, angry. Viktor had pissed m
Crimson Kisses 4. Eyeliner and Egos
Amara pov: As I walked into the place, I couldn’t help but notice how huge it was. The walls were painted black, giving it a creepy vibe, and there were giant statues of the old Dragovic rulers everywhere. They were meant to look scary, but honestly, I found them funny. Big round stomachs and bald heads, what was supposed to be intimidating just looked ridiculous.The guard walking with me saw me chuckling and tried to glare at me. Poor guy, he was scared. I could feel it, and honestly, he had every reason to be nervous.“What’s so scary about them? They look hilarious! Big bellies, no hair, totally bald. Is your boss ugly like them? Ugh, I was hoping for some handsome mafia guy, but I guess those only exist in books,” I said, letting out a little rant. The guard didn’t say a word. He just kept walking, ignoring me like I wasn’t even there.Asshole.Finally, we reached a huge door. It swung open slowly, leading to a massive room. The guard stopped and finally spoke, his voice flat
Crimson Kisses 3. The Devil Wants a Dance
Amara POV:Viktor Dragovic wants to make a deal with me? That’s fucking hilarious.I’ve killed men with more brains and less ego. He thinks tossing money and whispers my way will get my attention?He has no idea who he’s playing with.Still, I couldn’t help but grin as I stared at the encrypted message glowing on the screen:“The Devil offers a meeting. Midnight. Iron Citadel.”Drama much?I leaned back on the hotel couch, swirling cheap whiskey in a glass. My black boots were muddy from last night’s kill, blood still crusted on the laces. I hadn’t bothered cleaning them. Why would I? The mess was half the art.He’d been trying to kill Dmitri Solokov for four fucking years. I did it in one night with no backup and no blueprint. That must’ve bruised his pride so hard he bled jealousy.Now he wanted to meet me. Like I was some damn contractor.My laughter cracked the silence, dry, bitter, dangerous.“Poor bastard’s probably jerking off to my kill report.”I shook my head and downed the
Crimson Kisses 2. The Revenant
Viktor POV:The room stank of sex and smoke. Silk sheets tangled around my legs, the girl draped over me like a goddamn leech. Her laugh grated against my nerves, soft and fake, like everything about her.“You're quiet tonight, baby,” she whispered, trailing her fingers down my chest. “Want me to—”The door burst open.“Viktor!”Aleksander. He never barged in unless it was life or death.“What the fuck, Alek?” I growled, already sitting up, the girl squealing and grabbing for the sheets. “You lost your goddamn mind?”He didn’t blink. Didn’t apologize. Just said one name.“Dmitri Solokov is dead.”Silence crashed into the room like a bullet.I stared at him. “What?”“Dead. Gone. His compound's a crater. His body’s barely recognizable, but it’s him. Dental records confirmed.”The girl gasped. “Wait—the Dmitri? The king of—”“Get out,” I snapped.She blinked. “But I—”“I said get the fuck out!” I roared, turning on her so fast she tripped trying to grab her clothes.“Psycho bastard!”
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